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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
 Posted - 10/24/2019 : 02:19:18
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I'm breathing prayers
In the room where you're sleeping.
The old ways of love.
DL |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2019 : 06:30:51
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In the deep part of the night,
where the darkness growls and the heart bleeds...
I scream your name.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 10/30/2019 : 23:20:09
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1970. Nebraska. Singing The Boxer to the stars while she slept in the back of the car.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 10/30/2019 : 23:24:10
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1971. Valley Forge. Snow up to the knees, thumb out. Finally a ride in the back of an old hearse. I laid down in the back, crossed my arms and melted.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 10/30/2019 : 23:27:15
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1972. We ditched the car that took us from Sacramento to the east somewhere in Philadelphia and ran for the train.
I’m still looking back...
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 11/02/2019 : 07:46:43
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SPILL THE WINE...... and run
Spill the Wine was on the jookbox
in the ice dream parlor in 1971.
A not on the map gathering in the Utah desert
between the highway and Zion Canyon,
Hurricane, Utah looked at us like
a scene from Easy Rider.
Teenagers treating us like rock stars,
older men with faces of death [for us].
My friend got a room for a dollar,
I went to spread a little NY love
to the fans.
We had a great time
until the gun shots.
She said it was just
her brothers out looking for her.
A kiss goodbye and I left my jacket and boots
behind and headed for the canyon.
Went thru Vegas, Disneyland and
up the coast to San Francisco barefoot.
I forget which Chinese philosopher said it,
It is far better to lose your boots
than to feel a bullet in the head.
I agree, but, damn, I loved those boots.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/04/2019 : 20:59:36
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-A shift on the reservation. Rain with an heirloom edge. Lightning at his shoulders. Way to say something sad. Key in its secret place over the lintel when the light is on.
-Stars press against the windows of the tribal hall. Shaman and Curandero. Dark circle of birds in the sky. Censors in their slow cold wings. It must be Winter.
-For those who believe in the epiphany in dreams... Wind-pleated ground where his boots touch down. Biblical dust. Copal burning. Juniper and sage in abalone bowls. Far across the valley she rises. Ghosts remain seated when they move toward each other.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/04/2019 : 21:11:43
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| "...why you saw it that way...?" he says leaning in. "His love for black and white," she says. "How he'd fling his arms about shouting, 'Conspiracy of light! What it hides and surrenders!' His camera, a portal. Prophetic. His portfolio, disturbing. Dark. Central Park figures eerie in fog. You couldn't take your eyes away from them. Their breath. Subway stations like catacombs. Grey rainbow low over Angel of the Waters. The fountain's innocence gone." He's quiet for several moments. "How old were you then?" He asks a lot of questions. She asks questions too. New truths and a swamp in his stories. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 11/09/2019 : 06:26:20
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1970. Death Valley. I was with two gorgeous Israeli ex military women. I figured I was either going to get lucky or killed. We were tripping in a Mustang at 100mph and 100 degrees... I did not get killed.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/16/2019 : 16:34:34
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| Melvyn builds boats in a barn with a wood stove and Goodwill sofa. A complicated man who makes a "superior" pot of coffee. His work is precise and beautiful. The most sought after man in the marina. He once taught, "...upstate someplace." Maybe Marine Biology. We're all content without specifics. He has a niece named Janey he's crazy about. Has me mail letters to her in St. Petersburg. Cartons of books. "I have half a secret," he says. "You have the other half." "...his way to stay ahead of the sorrow," you say late one night. I don't ask questions. I think about the mysteries on J-Dock. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 11/16/2019 17:24:53 |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/16/2019 : 16:57:14
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| He's rocking with his palms resting on his knees. She's sitting on the top stair beside him with his to-be-continued stories. He interrupts when she leaves something out. "Unfair advantage!" he says suddenly. "C'mon..." she says laughing. "...the water did all the work for you." "Once is enough..." he says. Wet footprints on the deck. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/25/2019 : 20:14:01
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| "Moki Dugway," she says. "Most dangerous...?" he asks. A quiz. A puzzle. A prize? "No..." she pauses, "No..." His inquiring eyebrows and summing-up eyes when he lands his gravity-defying chair with a thud. "Tell me," he says. "Flying into a star..." she says. His touched face a light in her hands when he laughs. Later, eyes closed, "Oh, yeah...? he says. "The first day," she says. "No..." he says, "...before that." |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/25/2019 : 20:31:46
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| Waterfront tales. Tuna men chasing biblical creatures under the waves. Their ships crowding the Embarcadero. "Straight 'crost from City Hall 'til my hands give out. No greater fish (Bluefin) in the whole damn ocean!" Carlito pounds his fist on the table. His granddaughter, CiCi pauses before setting several plates down. Grilled sardines with lemon and olives. Saffron paella. Baskets of stuffed sausage bread. Oysters to order at the counter. Around 5pm the day's catch is whitewashed on the window. High bench in front where the faithful collect or pay off. Superstitious. No red hats in the crowd. They come here often. He loves these dark-paneled rooms with wide plank floors and rough edges. The long bar with history in pictures on the wall. The newest member of the crew asleep in a crib in a hallway off the kitchen. This sanctuary of tradition. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2019 : 04:22:42
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Ogden, Utah. Sleeping between railroad tracks and a highway. Middle of the night awakened by loud “moos”, we realized that a cattle drive was passing through and over us. Jumping in sleeping bags we laid down nearer to the tracks where it seemed quieter... Until the train came through.
Then the Mexican jumping beans ballet part two ensued.
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San Diego
Swinger
508 Posts |
Posted - 12/03/2019 : 17:46:09
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Track washout. Rail line from San Diego to Los Angeles. The main washout came within 20 inches of the railroad ties at the edge of a 40 foot bluff. Ocean crashing below. 100 years operating on the brink. High surf, waves, rain, and irrigation runoff cause the cliffs to crumble. NCTD Director, Matt Tucker, "The additional job needs an engineering design plan before the work is done and it may wait until January. More detail will follow when we have solid facts." Six phases of stabilization are planned through 2050. Del Mar Mayor, Dave Drucker, "We need to get the track off the bluff as quickly as possible. It's just way too vulnerable at this point. While it is somewhat dangerous it is safe to drive the train." In the meantime passenger trains are limited to 30 mph and freight trains to 10mph. Rain and flash flood warnings for tonight and tomorrow. Water and air 62. Back to you, Blaine.
Quotes from San Diego U-T. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 12/04/2019 : 00:56:47
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Cracklin Rosie Saved My Life
It wasn't that I really wanted to die,
It was just that I didn't care a whole lot about living anymore.
It was February, 1972 in San Francisco and it seemed
like it had been raining for weeks.
I'd cut my foot jumping off a cliff at Big Sur,
had a fight with a girl, couldn't get rides
and by the time I got back to the City
I was wet, cold, hurt and feeling
sorry for myself and alone.
I didn't even go back to McAllister Street,
I just got a big bottle of Gallo Rose
and laid down on the beach next to
the Pacific Coast Highway.
When I was thinking at all, there was a stray
notion that if I just got drunk enough and
laid there long enough, the tide would come in
and I wouldn't have to decide anything,
just kinda drift on out to sea...
Somebody had parked a VW Bug just behind me and
they were playing the radio loud;
it was Neil Diamond singing Cracklin Rosie.
I remembered a friend telling me that
it was a song about some Eskimos getting drunk on
cheap rose wine and pretending they had a woman
and I looked at my Gallo and
just started laughing
then crying
then laughing
some more until I was doing both at once...
I figured it was the Old Man trying to tell me something,
so
I got up, brushed myself off, walked by the Bug,
yelled Thanks to the couple somewhere inside the smoke
and I walked back home to McAllister and the rest of my life...
Hell, I still don't know if the story about the song was true...
But this one is...
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/09/2019 : 21:08:15
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It's night. But the color is peach. Champagne peach with a glow. A stranger's life. New clothes. New closet. Elusive view. No tangible landmarks when the screen goes dark for a moment and then flickers with...
...Tugs on the river. Their endless migration. Manhole covers huffing steam. Trees growing out of grates in the sidewalks. Pigeons picketing the Park. The rest of the world west of here. A jar full of subway tokens to get there. MET guards in their freshly-pressed blue. Nodding when she takes the stairs two by two. The Knights patiently waiting. Composed in their armor. More alive than yesterday. "A lesson," she says. "History's narrator..." he says when she reaches for the pan to cook eggs. Poached in milk he likes them. "...keep talkin'," he says, his chest rising and falling inside his shining white shirt. His resolute heart beating closer. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 12/22/2019 : 01:25:59
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Seems it's the best of times
At the worst of times
Guess it's like that getting old
My body's getting weaker, but
It's my heart can't take the load
Some say they wouldn't change a thing
I wonder how that would be
Because if I didn't have any regrets
I'd have no memories
There's a church right down the road
Where we had our wedding day
But you know I lost that girl
Somewhere along the way
The more I learn about loving
The less I seem to know
Most days I think that this grey beard
Is all that's seemed to grow
Some say they wouldn't change a thing
I wonder how that would be
Because if I didn't have any regrets
I'd have no memories
See the pictures? She's the one that left
It's been awhile now
Three angels took her to her rest
To her I'll always bow
She showed me what a friend could be
Though she never wore my ring
She always took all I had
And gave me everything
The boy's gone long ago
I try not to mention it anymore
But though it's been many years
I remember that closing door
There's time before, and time to come
But it never feels the same
There's a time you have to stand up
And get back in the game
Seems it's the best of times
At the worst of times
Guess it's like that getting old
My body's getting weaker, but
It's my heart can't take the load
Some say they wouldn't change a thing
I wonder sometimes how that would be
Because if I didn't have any regrets
I'd have no memories...
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/23/2019 : 23:17:39
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| The Sailor and the Mute Fortune Teller where the boulevards rush to the sea. Heart-driven gypsy road years. Dreams distilling in sleep's blue room. Two teacups on the counter. A fortune in leaves. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/23/2019 : 23:21:10
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| The sun fades. The sky darkens. The kelp beds roll. Thicket of stars over the harbor. Crystalline moon on deck. A man and a woman at the salt-ruffled edge asleep beneath the waterline. Tide dragging their ankles out to sea. |
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The Nightly Vigil