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Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
 Posted - 07/27/2011 : 19:17:58
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When he was younger, Albert spent every day
like it was gonna be the last and every night like
the house was on fire, which it occasionally was..........
so..... what's changed, Rev?
Glad you're considering staying around.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 07/27/2011 : 19:28:54
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She was from Oregon.
Albert was from everywhere.
Somehow that glassed in porch on Geary
was just big enough and just small enough.
He walked into the kitchen one morning
and she was just there, like the fog.
He'd forgotten his shirt
and had on black sunglasses.
She had on that little levi jacket
with the flowers on the collar.
They went to the blood bank on Mission
and he bought her breakfast with his money
for the whole day.
He had to work at the bar that nite to make up for it.
She remembered his kindness that first day,
thru the years,
especially when he started in with the whiskey and drugs
and became someone she didn't know and wasn't ready for.
That first day kept her in love with him long after it should've died
and believe me, Albert worked at killing it,
but she could never stop feeling
like they were meant to stay together.
Sometimes love and life go on
even when they shouldn't
and you just hafta do a little bear dance
every once in awhile
to keep from going nuts.... |
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andrew p
Firefly
USA
3936 Posts |
Posted - 07/27/2011 : 23:51:00
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Dance on Bro...like nobody's watchin'
andrew
"Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet." ~Roger Miller~ |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 07/28/2011 : 05:46:59
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It hadn't been all that long since we'd seen each other. We were the same age. I thought I looked old. He looked hundreds of years older thaN I did.
In my own subtle, inimitable way, I asked, "Dude, you look awful...what happened?"
"They told me that the light at the end of the tunnel just could be a train.
They didn't tell me that sometimes...
the train doesn't have its light on..." |
Edited by - rodeo on 07/28/2011 09:16:51 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 07/29/2011 : 15:14:32
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It Never Crossed My Mind [Jesse's Lament]
The hills you climb get steeper
When you're eighteen and alone
You're trapped inside your head
With no clear direction home
[The demons are right behind me
They've picked up on my trail
The tracks go on forever
But I'm no longer on the rail]
But, I'll never give it up
Give me any spark you find
I'll never take that way out
No, it never crossed my mind
I'll never leave you, Daddy,
I couldn't be that unkind
I'll never leave you, Mommy,
No, it never crossed my mind
It seems they just don't get it
You've given it all you've got
The world beat you up today
It brought you to this spot
[Go easy on my memry
Love the ticking of the clock
I ran as fast as I could run
Until I tripped on that last rock]
But, I'll never give it up
Give me any spark you find
I'll never take that way out
No, it never crossed my mind
I'll never leave you, Daddy,
I couldn't be that unkind
I'll never leave you, Mommy,
No, it never crossed my mind
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 07/30/2011 : 22:49:43
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| Many nights in and out of morphine dreams through headwinds and crosswinds the sky embraced him. He had no fear for there was nothing left to be afraid of. And when he finally looked down from his astral perspective and saw the runway lit with burning tires, he pulled back on the throttle and adjusted the flaps. He skimmed the treetops and flared the nose and touched down. When he taxied in, the vaqueros raced their wild horses beside him cheering and shooting their pistols into the air. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 07/31/2011 : 08:15:27
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It must have been the summer of 1971, because Albert was still nineteen. Working the 6 pm to 6 am shift at Bud's Taxi in Nyack. 12 hours on, twelve hours off, seven days a week. It was great if you were young and didn't need to sleep and had some,um, stimulants. He would get off at dawn and walk down to the new luxury apartments on the Hudson and sleep a few hours on a waterbed with one of the crazy girls he hung out with in those days.
One nite, about 2 am, the Red and Tan bus from New York pulled up and They got off. A drunk blond and a skinny guy with a big afro. The other driver was on his way to the airport so it was all Albert. They wanted to go to the black "resort" up on the mountain outside of town. [The boys used to go there when they were fourteen to get rum drinks because the only thing that mattered to Valentine, the bartender, was the color of your money, not your skin or age.He'd give them 151 Bacardi and make em fried chicken and became a lifleong friend until his liver caught up with him back in the Eighties]
The guy growled at Albert to wait until he was sure they could get a room and he noticed that he seemed to have a pretty good hold on her arm, but just figured it was to keep her on her feet. A few minutes later, the blonde comes out of the door fast and jumps in the front seat and tells him to get them both out of there as fast as he could. Albert hit reverse, hit drive and didn't stop until he got to the taxi office.
He was a little disappointed that all he got was a kiss on the cheek
and a "knight in shining armor" comment, but he was pretty "sped up" at that time of the morning so he took events as they developed and the kiss put Albert up on the nite. She never told him what happened in there or what the story was or much else except to watch out for hisself for a good while and she got on the next bus heading back to the City.....
He sat at the dispatcher's desk in front of the big glass window with the door locked, feeling like a target, praying for the first time in a long time, hoping Mikey got back before trouble did... Every time some drunk walked by the window he jumped, until he saw the sun hit the top of the movie theater across the street.
When 6 am came, Albert cashed out with Bud's wife and headed down to the apartment building on the Hudson River for his space on the
waterbed without saying a word to anybody. What the Hell was he gonna tell them? Heck, he didn't know what happened hisself and he was there. He figured maybe it was a good time to go back to San Francisco, and later that day he packed his backpack and stuck out his thumb...
[Yeah, I know. I'm disappointed, too, but, then again,
Most of the time a Real story doesn't end, it just goes on.....]
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Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 07/31/2011 : 14:22:16
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And on..... and on....... and on..... and on.....
"if" we're lucky! |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 07/31/2011 : 18:46:56
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It's like nothing you've ever seen before.
It's like the feeling you get when you win.
It's like the first time you smell a woman's scent
on the back of her neck.
It's like being transported to another time
and place by a good book.
It's like like that first rush through your bloodstream
after years of denial and feeling alive and whole again
and hoping that there is a different result this time
and knowing there never will be.
It's like having everything you need
and nothing that you want.
It's like getting a puppy when you're eight.
It's like looking into someone you love's eyes
when they're angry and seeing Heaven and hell
at the same time for the first time.
It's like every other time-
time after time.
It's like everyday you have to learn how to live
all over again.
It's like the world is changing faster than
even my generation thought it ever could.
It's like waking up in a dark room and forgetting
who you are and trying to remember
the last dream for a clue.
It's like being poor as a kid, but having parents
good enough to keep it from you.
It's like drowning,
but still you keep your mouth open.
It's like Chet Baker singing.
It's like Billie crying.
It's like Motown's backbeat
It's like a Newbury song on a Silver moon night.
It's like everybody is shouting at once sometimes.
It's like a double rainbow over the Hudson.
It's like running in quicksand but making progress.
It's like nothing and everything you thought it would be.
It's like nobody I know is ever going to give up.
It's like it's about time.
Yeah. That's what it's like.
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 08/04/2011 : 20:26:59
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When you're 10, you want to be 13. When you're 13, you want to be 16. When you're 16, you can't wait to be 18. When you're 18, yep.. you just want to be 21. But, I have YET to hear a 21-year-old say, "I just can't WAIT to be ...... 22 !!" When you're 27, you're looking at thirty .. When you're 30, you might be getting ready for a mid-life crisis (or two). Wait !!!! Go back a few words ... Did I say .. when you're "27" .... ? .. Now, where in the world did that number come from ..
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 08/04/2011 : 20:35:52
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| I hear the ocean in my brain, calling me to come. The waves are swelling and crashing inside my head, against the windows to my mind, where the door to my heart isn't far away. I must go down to the sea again .. where the endless water meets the endless sky - the red sky kisses the waves goodnight and the gold kisses them good morning. I see this through the eyes of a child, wondering and knowing at the same time ... just how big God is. |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 08/04/2011 : 20:47:40
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Hank inspires me ..
It's like looking in the mirror and seeing an old lady and knowing you're still young.
It's like walking as if you have no where to go and all day to get there.
It's like wanting peace so badly that you're willing to fight for it.
It's like the softest music in the world makes the loudest noise.
It's like walking downstairs backwards and pretending you're walking up.
It's like singing a song so loudly that no one can hear it.
It's like having a new baby brother and thinking all Dad sees is him.
It's like loving someone so much that it .... hurts.
That's what it's like, Hank. That's what it's like, Dear Heart.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 08/05/2011 : 20:17:27
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She was a long lost reminder
of the man I could've been
The doors I should've walked on by
The ones that drew me in
Everyday another mile
Further from that dream
Reminding me that flesh & blood
Are not all that they seem
She stumbled in late that night
When I'd given up the chase
I'd put oceans of whiskey down
But had one more for the taste
They all look like angels
When it's quarter after three
Her eyes were used to darkness
A warm body filled the need
It's a tunnel running nowhere
I love the life I lead
It's me that flies and me that cries
While those around me bleed
Evrytime she made that sound
I touched her deep inside
The water's getting colder
The river seems so wide.
She was a long lost reminder
of the man I could've been
The doors I should've walked on by
The ones that drew me in
Everyday another mile
Further from that dream
Reminding me that flesh & blood
Are not all that they seem
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 08/05/2011 : 20:52:30
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Wow !!
Love the way you write, Hank ...
BGee |
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Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 08/06/2011 : 07:11:46
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All women are angels at 3am when you look at them through whiskey eyes, don't 'cha know?
It's the 10 o'clock wake up that spins your world around.
Good job, Mr. Rev. |
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Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 08/06/2011 : 07:16:29
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Barb,
I relate to every "like".........
Especially the mirror!
Beck |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 08/07/2011 : 04:53:00
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So, Albert went on to say,
"Don't let a battered soul ruin a good life.
All the days count, you know."
We'll see, I said, We'll certainly see.. |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 08/07/2011 : 22:29:42
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No one sat with me...ever. Everyone knew that...so the "kid" was obviously new in town.
"Not much goin' on around here, is there?
When's the last time you had any fun?
Hey, are you listening to me...are you gonna answer me?"
"I'm thinking".
"You don't have much to say, do you, big Boy?"
"Call me that again...I'll kill you".
"Man, what's your problem?"
"She used to call me that".
"She...who the hell is she?"
"Too many questions, punk".
"You think you can call me punk and get away with it?"
He stood and drew his gun in the same motion. I didn't stand.
His last question?..
"Mama...?"
Damn, part of my drink spilled... |
Edited by - rodeo on 08/16/2011 07:17:28 |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 08/07/2011 : 22:59:29
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He rode three days across the high desert
When he arrived he knew everything
He showed me a card trick
And he told me a joke
He told me to keep away from the window
When I took the bullet out of his chest
He didn't flinch or change his expression
When he made me lay down beside him
His sleep was ahead of the posse
He has scars that shine in the moonlight
Brighter than the rest of his skin
But I can't tell you what he looks like
It was dark
Or his hat was pulled low
And his mouth was covered
With a bandana
-for Rev and Rodeo and days gone by... |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 08/08/2011 : 08:14:26
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I didn’t look back all that much….didn’t look forward either.
I would, however, look up from my Bible when the bottle was empty; they’d bring me another one. They told me I was good for business. Go figure?!
I usually went out in the street to meet the ones who came to put an end to my misery.
Twice, I tried to help them.
I drew, pointed at the ground in front of them, fired, then looked at them in dismay as they shot…missed….then shot again. They both did this little nervous thing with their eyes….looking side to side as if to see who made them miss a shot they’d been making for years…at cans…and bottles and old dogs. Pitiful. Most dogs don't shoot back.
I’d shake my head, fire my second round; turn and go back to my table.
I really felt bad for ‘em… Really!
The “kid” was the only one who didn’t make me get up and walk outside.
I appreciated that.
Most of ‘em said something like, “Get up, sumbitch…get out here”….or something worse. Whatever happened to manners?
I always told them to go practice some more. They always thought they were as ready to kill as I was to die.
I didn’t really mind being called "sumbitch"...
...only one other person had ever called me “Big boy”.
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The Nightly Vigil