| Author |
 Topic  |
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
 Posted - 12/12/2010 : 08:46:03
|
GENE
The Parkinson's twisting your once-limber body,
pulling you to the right and down, always to the right
and down, buckling your posture until your right ear sought
a pillow, left elbow bent at odd angles as your hands searched
for anchor between your thighs, your whole body trembling.
Over the years of decline, my son took to sitting on your right,
always to your right, snug to you, still able to see the man
who danced with joy before the earthquake entered the flesh
and stayed. My son's body became the pillow for your ear, the anchor
for your shaking hands. In his heart now, you dance from the grave.
DL |
 |
|
|
Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 12/13/2010 : 07:35:20
|
quote:
Originally posted by rodeo
...and may I say, the real Pooh is far superior to sham pooh.
FOR-sure... |
|
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 12/18/2010 : 11:30:32
|
The Way It Is
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
William Stafford |
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 12/18/2010 : 19:11:08
|
Heart surgery.
Would you like to finish your tea
before we continue?
No, go ahead, it's OK.
Have you done this before?
Not like this.
You mean the blood?
Here, let me get you a bandage.
How fine you appear
properly pin-striped.
Daunting rep tie,
tailored shirt,
white cuffs shining.
Right thumb curled
in the nether world.
Closed wings folded
over Sunset's
twenty miles of neon blue. |
|
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 12/19/2010 : 11:20:59
|
What was it I went looking for, wanting to replace
The wider ring of anger with the tighter ring of grace
Until my skin went missing and a newer skin did form
Too thin to be a prison, thick enough to keep me warm
And I looked in twenty countries, desperate to see
A face that rang familiar in the smoke of history
At last my skin was burning where your lips had left their wine
I joined hands with the smoke the day your body covered mine
And I knew I had to follow, as if a hidden string
Had pulled me back from anger, into the tighter ring
And when you wrapped me in your hair I had no skin at all
Your fingers ten commandments then, and I obeyed them all
What was it I was looking for, desperate to see
A face that promised mercy in the ruins of history
I traded in my skin for love, wanting to replace
The wider ring of anger with the tighter ring of grace
DL |
|
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 12/19/2010 : 11:24:34
|
| Good to read your words again, Roisin. |
|
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 02/09/2011 : 20:17:21
|
Fate waits on the patio of the Hotel Los Flamingos sipping Coco Loco and eating cognac-grilled shrimp. Under a thatched umbrella in tropical shadow a 1950's Tarzan and Jane look on. Carmine twilight when the shots are fired. When the souvenir women with babes in slings scream and fall over their trinkets. When truckloads of soldiers roll past the blue-domed Cathedral where Christ writhes in sorrow in His crystal crib. Past the Eiffel Tower and the brazen cliff divers, past the bungee jumpers and concrete bunkers along Acapulco Bay. The Devil dances to bongos at midnight. Pulsing lasers strike his silver-skull crown.
On Miguel Aleman Boulevard in February 2011 all the neon lights are red.
|
Edited by - Ailinn on 12/09/2015 11:05:13 |
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 02/20/2011 : 13:12:07
|
| Catching up at Sunrise House. Roberta Barron, alias "Robber", Human Resource coordinator and Chloe's great grand-daughter. A waif's face with dark eyes set in with sooty fingers. Chopped hair and chipped Holy Coal nail polish. Refuses to wear the prescribed sun-logo lab coat. No laces in her lug-sole metalic boots. Robber's dusting lavender shadow on Chloe's closed eyelids in the Dayroom at 5 pm. She's taking Chloe to see Black Swan at the El Camino Arclight. Chloe's petite with graceful hands and perfect posture. A dancer in '42 who "...toured with the USO." Robber holds her MAC brushes between her teeth and applies blush to Chloe's high cheekbones. When Robber whisks off the "Daddy's Rippin' Ribs" bib the assembled clap and tap their slippered toes. Elise and McKenna are a couple now. I suspect Robber arranged that too. Scheduling their "Walking Therapy" together. His and Her canes to lean on. Meals at the same corner table. Rumors of a candle. Contraband here. Finally, Marcella Delight. Transferring to Rancho Mirage. "Do you ever get out to the desert?" she asks me. Grief's still steeping its cruel tea there. Unfixable sadness. I don't tell her my windows are covered with butcher's paper and not coming down any time soon. I make a date to take her to The River, a make-believe oasis on Route 111. There's a Cheesecake Factory and a P. F. Chang's China Bistro. There's the Santa Rosa's serrated silouette at sunset. Melancholy color. Red time. |
|
|
|
Joe Z
Windchimer
USA
1819 Posts |
Posted - 02/20/2011 : 15:37:19
|
| My Dear Ailinn, Elise McKenna is the unforgettable character from Somewhere In Time, played by the beautiful actress, Jane Seymour. You know I don't believe in coincidence. |
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 02/20/2011 : 19:02:12
|
| My Dear Joseph, Neither do I. Looking forward to your new endeavor. Both of them. Love to you, Roxanne, and the family. |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 02/22/2011 : 18:26:48
|
All the days you walked beside me
Were all the days I did not fall,
Winter winds caress my soul now
Another day learning to crawl.
All the nights you laid beside me
Were the nights I did not shake,
God,
The doors are left wide open now
There's nothing left to take.
Did you leave me with a song to sing
So my lips would remember how?
Did you leave me for the past again,
While I'm stuck in here and now.
All the years a little slower
While the fingers hold on fast
Every night's a little longer
Midnight joys have mostly passed.
All the nights you laid beside me
Were the nights I did not shake,
God,
The doors are left wide open now
There's nothing left to take.
All the days you walked beside me
Were all the days I did not fall,
Winter winds caress my soul
Another day learning to crawl.
HB 2010
|
|
|
|
Joe Z
Windchimer
USA
1819 Posts |
Posted - 02/25/2011 : 15:41:40
|
He hears us Hank B
Inexplicably He knows
Us eternally
|
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 02/25/2011 : 18:50:28
|
Darlin, I can't make excuses
For the kind of man I've been.
I've paid so many pipers
for so many deadly sins.
I'm not here making promises
Or trying to change your mind.
Just an old man chasing memories
Before the whiskey makes me blind.
[The girl shouldnta danced like that
There oughtta be a law.
She sent me to the floor of Hell
And I bounced back up for more.]
I never heard your crying
In the middle of the night.
I was busy burning bridges
And making up new lies.
The preacher says you lose your soul
When you sniff the devil's breath
The night's couldn't come fast enough
Until the day you left.
[She shimmies and she shakes that thing
Turns a good man over to wild
I still see that red dress in my dreams
Sometimes I even smile.]
We never had the money
But, baby, we had a time,
Golden Gate Park was hot that day
You were my first song that rhymed.
Those magical days of nineteen
Turned to forty overnight
Things get lost along the road
You can never make them right.
The girl shouldnta danced like that
There oughtta be a law.
She sent me to the floor of Hell
And I bounced back up for more.]
[She shimmies and she shakes that thing
Turns a good man over to wild
I still see that red dress in my dreams
Sometimes I even smile.]
The girl shouldnta danced like that
There oughtta be a law.
She sent me to the floor of Hell
And I bounced back up for more.]
Hank Beukema revbuckmanmusic 2010
|
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 02/27/2011 : 17:48:02
|
I think I heard she was Brazilian.
Her skin was a cup of coffee
half filled with cream.
She had on one of those little black dresses and
when she danced it was as if it was
as easy as breathing and yet
less than a whisper to my eyes.
Everything else stopped even the music
and the people talking and I just stood there
and watched her dance...
Forever...
|
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 02/28/2011 : 21:02:07
|
| Eve steps out of Adam with her heart on her sleeve. Guilty before they begin. |
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 02/28/2011 : 21:11:01
|
| Adam races across State Route 127. Tumbleweed. Miles of mirage. "Do you know what I'm sayin'," he says. An alibi on the radio. His hand on her knee. Adam cuts the lights but leaves the motor running. FM static rolling in. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 05/16/2020 18:31:57 |
|
|
|
Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 03/07/2011 : 20:26:03
|
US Highway 90.
Brackettville, Texas.
Home of the real Alamo.
The one where John Wayne was Davy Crockett.
The ritual stop at the Burger 'N Shake.
Cheeseburger, fries and a coke.
Conversation with my fellow road warrior,
I survey the highway outside the picture frame window.
A man with a cross on his shoulder with a wheel at the bottom.
A man on a mission.
We all have our crosses to bear I concluded,
Smiling.
A snapshot of time...
In my mind's eye.
Craig |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 03/11/2011 : 20:19:11
|
The horses stir, uneasy.
I creep into the camp as a cat walks on grass.
I take back what is mine and avenge the stealing of my soul.
I have no sense of guilt...
The men around the campfire eye me warily,
but none dare move.
They know me, and what I have lost,
and what I have lost makes me dangerous.
As I leave, I run their horses off with a slap,
leaving them powerless in the freezing wilderness.
and still, I feel no guilt...
Illiance and Grania stared at me as I rode in.
When I told them of the campsite and Our victory
they shed quiet tears for those who had not made it...
The river runs, the moon is high and clear
and it is oh, so bitter cold.
But, there is one more hand to be dealt before we rest.
I will never feel the guilt....
|
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 03/12/2011 : 18:05:38
|
Adam lies on his heart side toward Eve's honey-comb soul. Divine light leaking through the louvers.
Eve steps out of Adam with a chip on her shoulder. Hairline cracks in the wallpaper. Something burning on the stove.
Adam has the Almanac out on the table again. A sky of roiling blue. A confluence that moves him.
Sails swell in the Bay through the window's low pane. Adam feeds the script through the shredder. Page by coffee-stained page. The fog-bound bridge swaying behind him.
What was it like waking up with the sheets on fire waiting for The Ark to arrive? Waiting for the olive branch in their sleeping-history high iron bed?
Was Eve "in love" with Adam? Don't you think she should have been? I suppose it's you who persists with these questions. So. How's the rodeo circuit, or are you riding for the brand? |
|
|
|
Topic |
|
|
The Nightly Vigil