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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
 Posted - 11/23/2006 : 17:25:03
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They've all left me now except for Mick...
We go to that place that is so familiar to us both...
The darkness takes on a different color now,
Talking about my memories of a future with Rebecca...
Mick has lots to say,
What to leave in what to leave out,
Rewrite, boy, rewrite or sometimes
Hell, just leave it alone...
I hold him to me, as a man, as a friend
And feel his frailness and his strength, both...
I ask him to stay and
He says,
Didn't you know?
It's forever for those like us,
Just forever.............
For Ever, Mick, Thank you....
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 11/23/2006 : 17:28:59
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His eyes like stars, like scimitars. His heavy, silver hair. He's at the end of a long story. Far-fetched edges. Six wet miles at low tide. All those fractured wishes glittering along the highway. US 101's broken glass above them. There's the moon, now. In it's sky-locked cradle. Alight over the contradictive Pacific sea. They're sitting at the long table. Hands folded in thanksgiving. They've been sitting there a thousand years. Light melts in sooty globes around them.
Ailinn
Swinger
774 Posts
Posted - 11/23/2006 : 14:34:05
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Stars on the floor when he opens the door ready to tell the whole story. "Pages and pages of dreams," he says. "Guard your heart, now!" he cautions, and draws the torn shawl across her cold shoulders. There's the moon's crazed porcelain cup up over the treetops. The reluctant, high thin clouds. The pointed star only he can inviolably follow. He slips his warm palm under her elbow. Takes her into the sky. She has bells on her shoes. Fastened with invisible fishline. They leave a small music on the smoke-filled air. An owl blinks in a eucalyptus tree. "See how each leaf dreams it's own divine dream," he says. Down the sand-blown road the coast curves and glitters. O, dangerous midnights inventing the alphabet. Her hijacked heart. His black leather satchel on fire. Her counterfeit pen leaking it's blue infusion on the floor. His name and dark sail still a mystery.
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/23/2006 : 17:50:13
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| Happy Birthday, Reverend B! I wish you a great year. Love from the other coast of north America. |
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aussiedave
Swinger
Australia
509 Posts |
Posted - 11/26/2006 : 02:31:07
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happy birthday my brother
..from this side of the BBM..
AD |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/26/2006 : 16:50:37
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| Fog-bound days. In 1360 he crossed the crumbling cliffs blindfolded. A spatter of rain. Then another. The wind battered the grey flumed coast. The briny wide ocean bared its sharp teeth below him. Sometimes the wind broke him. Sometimes the keening harpies serpent songs did. He arrived out of breath with a story that rhymed. The sea house invented itself quickly around him. The kitchen with its long plank table and hand carved chairs. The candle's constant invitation. The open oven door. The aisling's incantation when the dark came down. |
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 11/26/2006 : 20:32:19
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Deafened by the strife-laden wind, not able to see no more than what is heard through the blindfold.
Is it truth...or just the wind?
craig |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/28/2006 : 19:36:29
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The sea is crystal clear tonight
The wind is up the sails are tight
But I can see no harbor lights
I can see no land in sight
The sea is crystal clear tonight
I can see the harbor lights
At last I have the land in sight
Where there is someone waiting up for me...
~Mickey Newbury~ |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4925 Posts |
Posted - 11/28/2006 : 20:06:14
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Where did that come from? 
Come on Ro, tell 
Karen Runk |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2006 : 18:43:57
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"I am asleep in the upstairs bedroom. Rolled up under a big goosedown coverlet as light as the mornin' air. The window...cracked. Honeysuckle vine crawling by. Leaving the fragrance of a thousand tiny white flowers. The wind dancing with the branch of a young cottonwood tree. Too close to the house. No place to grow."
~Mickey Newbury~ |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2006 : 18:46:24
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| Dark now. Stars coming into the heart of it. And the black silhouette trees. As if the leaves were painted on the sky. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2006 : 19:16:06
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I love this old room... The figurines on the tabletops, the dusty pictures on the walls, the white bearded handsome man that sings his waltzes quietly in the corner... The friends stopping by on the odd nite.....
But, Oh what a pallette the Irish Lady paints with! Her colours from The West set my heart ablaze!
I could listen to her paint all nite...
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Edited by - buckman on 11/29/2006 19:18:06 |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/30/2006 : 18:30:59
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"...stepping into this three-quarter moonlit night to say... Sleep well... Dream."
~Mickey Newbury~ |
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 11/30/2006 : 18:34:39
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"I usually sit pensively in the shadows of the corner of the room. Once in a while, just once in a while, I may have something to say..."
craig |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 11/30/2006 : 18:38:27
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| "Before you leave to know everything brush those clouds away from the sunshine!" she cries. "Take your sunglasses off," he tells her. Her starry tears when the stairs grew steeper. Her belled shoes, water-logged. Dust rising in fistfulls under his feet. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/01/2006 : 18:07:28
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| "...before the cold sky closes... Hold on to the ones you love. Like today was the last day in the Universe," he says. She says, "...finished the wings. Do we fly now?" In pictures she's still smiling at the Post Office. No numbers under her chin. Her fear is the only thing he will not allow. She becomes fearless in his house of miracles. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 12/01/2006 : 20:00:35
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Yeah, Mick.....
Funny, it's a three quarter moon in NY , too, tonite....
I guess we're still two bits short of havin a buck, but let's make a night of it anyway.....
They lit the tree at Rockefeller Center last nite, wanna go over with me and Becka?
Then we go to St Patrick's...
Then the Bitter End, then the Lone Star, then the Bottom Line....
[[OK, Rev,you know none of those places are there anymore, don't you?]]
Yeah, Ralphie, I do....
But, neither is Mick,
He won't know....
HEY YOU THERE....... DON'T TELL HIM......
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/02/2006 : 16:52:14
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| "...if this were a true story...and it is..." he said. A two-sided border story. Dangerous centuries behind it. The small space where they waited. The rusty gate. Palm trees exploding above the chimneys. Shore birds patroling the balcony rail. Soldiers guarding the scarred garden pathway. Her heart-shaped spade driven deep into rock-riven soil. His talisman heart banging against her ribcage. Blood-light blinking from her ruby-stung ears. Blisters rising on his interrupted life line. One night he showed her where the boat was hidden. Their shoulders touching in the tarry dark. The astonishing stars. The moon's bright sickle above them. His gaze so grave. Her smile so free and brazen. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2818 Posts |
Posted - 12/02/2006 : 19:33:20
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You have crossed all boundaries tonight of word usage and colours and art.... I am stunned once again at the newest painting on the wall....
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/03/2006 : 15:29:27
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One waltz around the room, then, Reverend...
"...to days gone by..." |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2154 Posts |
Posted - 12/03/2006 : 15:33:09
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"..write...Write...WRITE....the candle is burning at both ends and time is short. DAMNNNNN.....those steps are rough!"
~Mickey Newbury~ |
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The Nightly Vigil