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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
 Posted - 02/24/2007 : 17:08:45
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| Her face is a waif's face. Dark eyes set with sooty fingers. A vagrants vanishing perspective gaze. Chopped hair and chipped black nail polish. Tie-dye from some ancient Good Will run. Scuffed and laceless Doc Martens. "Well...jus' 'til I get my life back in order," Roberta Barron says. Alias Robber. Chole's intractable granddaughter has secured "temporary permanent employment" at Sunrise Retirement Home. Alma Cottswold looks anxious and skeptical. McKenna just nods. 'Plucky' is the word ascribed to Robber as a child. She heard it as 'lucky'. Expects happy endings. The glass brim-full and spilling. "Fer sure," Robber says, grinning her insouciant grin. Who's that pulling into the gravel parking lot, now? Bleary-eyed from traveling through a dream-riddled dark. Stars sliding across the worn dashboard. His hand on his passengers knee. An alibi on FM radio. He slides out of the drivers seat and comes around. Her sequined sandal touches the ground. "Careful, my Love..." he says in his southern gentleman drawl, "...that first step's a tricky one." He reaches for her. His transparent hand substantial again. His old grip with its pressing magic. "Oh-oh..." says Chloe, "...here comes the family reunion." |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 02/24/2007 : 23:16:03
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| Another paragraph we are all fortunate to share in... |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 02/25/2007 : 19:47:34
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Melinda came riding back in yesterday on Moonbeam...
We didn't talk much last night,
So often it leads to trouble...
After a long, quiet game of cards, she said,
I love you, Preacher...
I said, I know, Darlin,
But, do you think you can find an easier way
To try to inspire my writing?
Rev Buckman
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 02/28/2007 : 19:20:16
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Pages and pages of dreams...guard your heart now...
~Mickey Newbury~ |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/01/2007 : 19:03:20
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| This is where they meet. In the middle of the night. At the edge of the cameo-lit tamarisk grove. The true latitude and longitude necessary for gravity to keep them spinning in place. A small space. No wider than an eyelash. Now he's asleep on his heart side. The plane of his cheek resting against her right shoulder. He's dreaming the water story. She's heard it before. Small afternoons in an uncertain season. Awake and asleep. Through centuries of banked fires. His glass-like language. His clear, unfettered pane. His blood on the sheets. Not hers. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/02/2007 : 18:14:10
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| When the stars go high he arrives to console her. Lifts the lid on the ancient chest with its fierce Celtic symbols. Hands her the warring scrolls, his bow and his quiver. His tempered sword. His burnished suit of mail. She's down on her knees in the dust of the ages. Her porcelain palms pressed together again. |
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3791 Posts |
Posted - 03/03/2007 : 20:50:47
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Bright crisp, windless morning...a rarity in this country of constant rain. A brilliant, white cloud forms between the snowcapped Argyll mountains. It slowly moves towards the Clyde as it flattens...blanketing Holy Loch as it lazily floats slowly westward out to sea.
craig |
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3791 Posts |
Posted - 03/03/2007 : 21:26:33
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A simple stone
placed on her marker.
"I was here",
it silently exclaimed.
craig |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/06/2007 : 19:00:45
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Melinda woke me up, somehow
She brought me out of the back of the saloon|
Out into the streets again...
And then she left...
What a wonder is a woman for a man's soul...
Rev Buckman
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/07/2007 : 18:11:08
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I think that I lived on the edge
Of oblivion and heartache
For so long
That I wasn't fit for
Human consumption...
Pity, I still love the edge...
Rev Buckman
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/08/2007 : 18:32:51
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I yelled out into the the yard that
Supper was done
For the third nite in a row
With no answer from Melinda....
Do ya think I should give it up and just eat?
Rev Buckman
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/08/2007 : 21:36:40
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I was fixin a railing,,,
Moonbean rode on in with Melinda
There was a quiet moment...
She said , Can we play cards?
I said, Are you gonna cheat>
She said, Probly not....
I said, Sit down and try not to talk too much...
Rev Buckman
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/10/2007 : 07:54:05
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HORSE'S MOON SUITE
[I think I may go away for awhile.... again, maybe not... Either way,I would like to leave something up that I am proud of... there is an audio of this at : www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema ]
Horse's Moon
At twilight
We rode away from the setting sun
Directly into the full moon...
I could see the reflection of
My horse's face in it and
Saw the shadow of sadness
That she had come to realize
I could never love her completely...
It never affected her work...
Horse Left
My horse has left me
As I knew she would
Because I did not love her enough
Which is why I did not love her enough
Which is why she left
I am left with just me and
My two legs
It may be enough for other men
But not for me...
Secrets
The horse came back to me tonite...
Came from behind
Nudging me
Head down, pawing the ground...
I said, Baby girl,
The secrets we keep from each other
Are the same ones we keep from ourselves...
Don't take it personally, OK?
Carmelita Returns
An hour after the horse came back
I could hear Carmelita limping
Up to my room...
I said that I had gotten so tired
Of not hearing a voice that
I had been talking to myself for three days...
I said that I had decided that
Evry poet is a warrior and
Evry warrior a poet...
And she looked at me with that black hair
And black eyes that I would have died to see
Just once and said...
Shuttup, Preacher,
Lie down and please,
Just shuttup...
Vanilla Touch
I smelled the vanilla
Before I felt her touch...
She had come to me in
The darkened room
While I lay alone thinking
Of a new poem...
As Carmelita silently settled
On top of me, she said
Feels like home, eh, Preacher?
Another poem lost forever to a woman...
Alone Again, Naturally
As soon as I came home tonite
I knew I was alone...
The horse was gone...
Carmelita had left nothing
But the vanilla scent and a note...
Preacher, we have gone to find
Where you hid the moon,
Don't wait up...
Pity, I so loved watching her leave...
Leaving Backwards
Carmelita has left me so much
You would think I would get used to it...
All I have left of her this time
Is the stain of her cup on the table...
It's getting to the point that when
I see her standing in my door
I think that she is leaving me
Walking backwards...
If you were me it would make sense...
Kick the Table Over
I have let it all fall away tonite...
I have kicked away the table
Once again and
Let the cards fall where they may...
If you want me,
Either of you....
Come back....
Or YOU figure out how to live
Without ME....
REV BUCKMAN
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/10/2007 : 18:06:38
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| 44 Calle Ceilo Azul. Enter through the jasmine-framed archway. An ornate verdigris gate. An open door. Many pictures down the sun-washed corridors. Coyote footprints crossing the Saltillo tile floor. A long market list on the refrigerator. A tray of glass beads that match his eyes cooling on the kitchen counter. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/11/2007 : 18:57:54
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| Robber's landlady lives with her two dead husbands resting on the carved mahogany coffee table. "...and she keeps cats..." Robber says, passing the chips and tomato-flecked guacamole, "...that's why she has to have them weighted down. Like little Oscars, but tippy." Each urn has its own golden plate. With dates and pertinent sentimentalities. The Claddagh symbol on Dillon's. Lord of Riccochet Alley ~ California 74 on Martin Lord's. "He built that road, ya know," says Robber Barron. Sunrise Retirement Home's newest employee...and self-appointed local historian. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/11/2007 : 19:01:16
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| His pent-up energy. His brooding, dark fuel. An ocean around them. And the resinous trees. In ancient Inis Fail... His Ark still out there. Sailing. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/12/2007 : 15:45:49
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Melinda's beauty haunts me. Newbury's shouting, standing on his rock in the ocean.Lang and McNeely and Polk writing songs that wanted to be mine but never were. She's waiting for me, somewhere....Oh, she's waiting for me on that windy beach with the red hair like in that Waterhouse painting...
Dreams and horror.....
Over and over...
Dreams and horror...
Rev Buckman
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/12/2007 : 18:38:06
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| First there were the bits of suet and crumbled pemmican. She certainly knew what I found tasty. At sunrise and last light I'd watch her standing there. All longing. A chimney perch across the street provided my birds eye view. I saw him too. Teaching her how to read Braille. One hand resting lightly on hers. The other across her mouth when she was moved to weeping. How the saints sobbed into their white handkerchiefs when he turned a deaf ear to their tears. He had something else in mind. Breakfast set before him at 7am. Supper when the adobe walls flushed with roseate light. Something for me in the yard before the night dew prospered. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
1895 Posts |
Posted - 03/14/2007 : 20:54:13
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| Back on Mulholland the wind is blowing the patio furniture around the yard. "I've had wings before," she says. She's anchoring the awkward easel. Watching the red sun sink into the pewter-cast Pacific Ocean. "I had stockings on," she says, "proper as anyone else. He was waiting for me to get off the train he had the track and the time for. When the conductor handed me over, he kissed my hand. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2705 Posts |
Posted - 03/16/2007 : 23:36:33
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Poem: "Come Gather Round Me, Parnellites" by William Butler Yeats, from Selected Poems and Four Plays of William Butler Yeats. © Scribner Paperback Poetry.
Come Gather Round Me, Parnellites
Come gather round me, Parnellites,
And praise our chosen man,
Stand upright on your legs awhile,
Stand upright while you can,
For soon we lie where he is laid
And he is underground;
Come fill up all those glasses
And pass the bottle round.
And here's a cogent reason
And I have many more,
He fought the might of Ireland
And saved the Irish poor,
Whatever good a farmer's got
He brought it all to pass;
And here's another reason,
That Parnell loved a lass.
And here's a final reason,
He was of such a kind
Every man that sings a song
Keeps Parnell in his mind
For Parnell was a proud man,
No prouder trod the ground,
And a proud man's a lovely man
So pass the bottle round.
The Bishops and the Party
That tragic story made,
A husband that had sold his wife
And after that betrayed;
But stories that live longest
Are sung above the glass,
And Parnell loved his country
And Parnell loved his lass.
FOR ROR AND SAN DIEGO AND GRANIA AND MICK AND ILLIANCE
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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The Nightly Vigil