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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
 Posted - 08/24/2019 : 17:51:44
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"...but that's jus' the way of it..." he says, "...go on..." "You know the story," she says. He doesn't say anything.. "Sassy for Coca-Cola," she shrugs. "Wholesome for General Mills. Ted was my favorite photographer. A manic genius who imported State Line Potato Chips. Drank cases of Mateus Rose. Kept a fishbowl full of candy bars and peanut butter crackers. Had a pampered cat named Tiger and a mother in Queens he adored. In between takes I'd sit shivering in underwear and a barber's cape. He'd toss Tiger's blanket in my lap. When he said 'shut your eyes,' I shut them. Let him blow phony snow in my face. 'Cheekbones,kid!' he'd shout. 'Haute couture!'"
He stands and holds his hands over the fire pit. Moonlight shining his shoulders. Kokopelli guarding the yard. "Write me a letter," he says. "Write every day." Dear Sir... she writes. Rainy Wind Font. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 09/04/2019 17:23:31 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 08/26/2019 : 11:54:35
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They stopped at the river.
She knew it was where I hid the moon...
The horse skittered, she danced,
Oh, how Carmelita loved when a horse danced.
And
She loved when she found one of my secret places.
So many places still to find,,,,
She has yet to find where I hid the sun...
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 08/28/2019 : 11:22:59
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Jesse Matthew Beukema
Jan 24,1974 - Aug 28, 1992
The best of days and the worst of days.
I dream of you so much
it's like you're still here.
Space inside, partly died,
left on the road with you.
Our buddy,
Our music man.
So much left to teach you and
learn from you.
What a man you would have been!
We miss you our angel...
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/04/2019 : 16:12:31
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| She sleeps in his shirt stiff with paint. Denim-blue for work. Cut sleeves fraying at the elbows. The season grows colder. The holidays come round. Will you help? they finally ask bringing tea. Silver bells. The chandeliers sparkle. The children have grown. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/04/2019 : 16:30:38
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| The spinning world spins. His fast car rushes westward. Rips across the desert under the mechanics of stars. Dust whirling in dervishes behind them. His hands steady on the wheel when he spins out in the tamarisk grove. Road ricocheting inside his head. His ragged laugh and brazen skill. She's quiet beside him. Her fingertips on his wrist. The rapid pulse there. And in the small space between his sideburns and his ear. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 07/17/2021 16:49:38 |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/04/2019 : 16:32:59
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| Morning fortress of fog. Foam-flocked at the high-tide mark where their names are buried in sand. And now the bluffs are falling. He said they would. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 09/07/2019 : 16:17:41
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There is pain out in the world tonight
And some of it's your very own
Lord, I know you gave it all you had
Somehow that last dream has flown.
Have the spirits all deserted you
Left you to sing your lonesome tune?
Lord, we ask so little and yet so much
Why do the answers never come too soon?
Do not be so hard upon yourself
The world will gladly do that part
Keep what matters flowing freely through your soul
So the truths can reach your heart.
Does it sometimes seem so much to bear
All the work that goes unseen?
Is it the weakest or the strongest ones
That end up going to their knees?
Do not be so hard upon yourself
The world will gladly do that part
Keep what matters flowing freely through your soul
So the truths can reach your heart.
We enter naked and without blame
And day by day we gain and lose
We need the hope our elders promised
We need to find the path to choose
Do not be so hard upon yourself
The world will gladly do that part
Keep what matters flowing freely through your soul
So the truths can reach your heart.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 09/13/2019 : 04:08:25
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Mom and Dad took me to the
Old Madison Square Garden in 1959
To see the Roy Roger's Rodeo.
The Sons of the Pioneers sat right
In front of us
Tall on their horses and sang
Cool Water and the horses never moved.
When they sang Tumbling Tumbleweeds
The horses danced sideways like they
Really liked this one.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/16/2019 : 17:15:15
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| Small wings of dust at her ankles. She's intent on keeping her feet on the ground. Not turn around in the bright humming air. Color and sound she hadn't noticed before. A dozen determined steps before she glances his way. He's still there. He hasn't moved. He doesn't wave. A few more steps before she turns back again. Sun at his shoulders. An outline of sails. A thousand and one...a thousand and two... Seconds tick by. He's laughing when he walks away. She knows what will happen now. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 12/09/2019 21:26:45 |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/16/2019 : 17:21:38
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| Embarcadero. "Whole days in old places," he says. "Other books...other lives..." "The great age of crossers," she says. "They came separately. Two boats. My father on adventure. Cold nights in the hold. My mother on something with champagne flutes and deck chairs. He was in the hotel business. He had a thick brogue. She was an ethereal stranger who floated over croquet lawns under a lace parasol. Her feet never touched the ground. He put me to sleep with extravagant stories. Left in the middle of one." |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/16/2019 : 17:30:18
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| "...our own language," he says. "That story. Remember...?" "Four beaver pelts down on Amsterdam..." she laughs, "...lashed to the rail for the rooftop shot." "One wish this moment..." he says, and squeezes her hand. "Unchaperoned," she says. "Oh, Lord!" he says, "Oh, Lord..." Urban twilight. Sky half dark with wings. Fingers laced. Wrists humming. "We're gettin' better at this," he says. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 09/21/2019 : 20:18:47
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In her voice a dog is barking.
Just outside my soul.
She never saw the best of me
She never saw me whole.
Ornaments for earrings,
Rainbow tattoos on her skin.
Some days her hair was blonde
Turned red the nights she sinned.
There never was the time then
The way I've got it now.
Forever's never long enough
Always learning how.
The times I knew and the times I cared
They don't matter anymore
Tonite that dog is barking
Time to close up that back door.
Ornaments for earrings,
Rainbow tattoos on her skin
Some days her hair was blonde
Turned red the nites she sinned.
One day or nite can change things
The leaves blow down the street
A woman laughs, a baby cries
Did I teach her how to cheat?
Somebody else's life
Is playing in my head
No direction left but up,
More alive than dead
Years they pass, scars they show
Redemption draweth nigh
If it wasn't for the moonlight
No one would see us cry
Love comes to town once or twice
Sometimes it even stays
Like the circus, roll the tents
The clown's the one who pays.
Ornaments for earrings,
Rainbow tattoos on her skin
Some days her hair was blonde
Turned red the nites she sinned.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/24/2019 : 17:25:04
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| A kind of surrender entering a mine in earthquake country. The weight of risk overhead. But curiosity overcomes trepidation and they step into the indelible dark. What's concealed by brush on the mountain is stunningly revealed. Sun-pierced portals. Shafts of moted light through honeycomb openings. A maze of spectacle inside. Chambers of varying sizes. Some so low they have to stoop to get through. High-roofed pockets of jagged crystal. Glowing quartz. Violet mica. Tourmaline. The Blue Cap vein. Color more vivid in the rock than in jewelry. Nearly an hour passes. Blind for a few moments when they finally walk out. Back on the reservation there's beef and fry bread at the tribal chairman's house who tells them Wind Spirit sings with Coyote out by the Tourmaline Queen. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 09/24/2019 : 17:30:40
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| Narrow alleyway. Thin slice of sky. He points to the stars and names them. "...as many constellations as keys on a piano..." he says on a street of red cobbles and makeshift shrines. Tribute bouquets and candle stubs flickering in niches in the wall. Pan de muertos. Sweet conchas with crosses. Bright woven God's Eye at the vendors stalls. "...line between the mortal and the divine..." he says. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 09/29/2019 : 09:47:33
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Whistle me a up a tune, Mick
My heart is breaking in two
I'm spending the nite with
my closest friends,
Her memory, a bottle and you.
Sing me a sad one like only you can
I know there's more left in this heart
It's a long train we're runnin
Gettin faster each day
But we've come so far from the start
What ever she took,
she took me by chance,
It was all we could do just to stand
The first days were wild
The nites all aglow
There was still time for holding hands.
Some things you lose
Others you burn
Some just get taken away
Nights filled with whiskey,
The days fueled by pills
It's gonna stop hurting today
So, Whistle me up a tune, Mick
The night is just right for two.
An empty glass toast
to beginnings and ends
Her memory, a bottle and you.
Sing us of ramblin and shining blue skies
Fade the words right into my heart
It's a long road we're drivin
But gettin shorter each day
We've come so far from the start
Sometimes all it takes
Is one little dance
You feel it, she's holding your hand
The days of the child
The years watching him grow
Are stored safe in another land
Sounds like the blues
But some days you learn
Some just get taken away
Words chase the whiskey,
The mountains are hills
It's gonna stop hurting today
So, Whistle me up a tune, Mick
The night is just right for two.
An empty glass toast
to beginnings and ends
Her memory, a bottle and you.
Sing us of ramblin and shining blue skies
Fade the words right into my heart
It's a long road we're drivin
But gettin shorter each day
We've come so far from the start
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 10/05/2019 : 16:02:36
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| High meadow in the glen. Lake hidden by mountains under blue blankets of snow. Raptors gliding over the Old Ones. Sage. Smoke medicine. Ghost music. "What happened?" she says. He says, "Sticks and stones." Boat low in the water. Creak and shiver. Fog prowl. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 10/05/2019 : 16:09:54
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| Pirates. Sea gypsies. Siege on the waves. Blushing lanterns on Bankers Hill. Rough wooden benches off India where the story heats the room. "In the beginning... There was the tuna...!" Raucous shouts. Loud fists on the table. The bottle passed around. A man with scars on his back is staring out into the street. Tinsel rain. Low clouds. Storm smeared with a palette knife. Pieces of sky showing through. Star in the harbor. Rocking. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2249 Posts |
Posted - 10/05/2019 : 16:28:46
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| "...am I hypnotized...?" she laughs, "...under your spell...?" "Don't open your eyes 'til we get to the bus station part..." he says, and places a log on the grate. "Strangers pack my trunk. Leave out the important things. Harlequin doll and music box. Wildflower trading cards. A tool that plugs in and gets hot enough to burn images in wood. A surly girl from Tarrytown walks me down a long hall. Saints on the walls. Doors that lock from the outside." Saturday slides into Sunday. Dawn on the sill. She's so sleepy. "...man on the riverbank with a small can of fire... Shows me how to use a bobby pin on a locked door. Says he once worked on Wall Street but he's happier now living in a cloud of forsythia." "Show me how you do that," he says. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 10/17/2019 11:48:08 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 10/11/2019 : 00:37:15
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Did you think it was all just magic
Or maybe just another dream?
They say
There's no such thing as coincidence
But at the time that's how it seemed
The words were true when we said them
We flew without coming down
Somewhere down the street there's music playing
But these days I don't hear a sound.
Did you think it was all just magic
Just a trick with smoke and tears?
The headlights show the road ahead
But I live in the rear view mirror
A friend came by yesterday
He asked me how you were
I said I don't really know anymore
I never hear from her.
The magic was in the moonlight
The magic was in your eyes
The magic's in the way we go on
When the heart just wants to die
The magic takes the brass
And turns it into gold
The magic keeps the memories alive
To warm you when you turn old
I never wrote that song that night
I never got it done
I promised you so many things
Before my legs forgot how to run
Full moon rising thru the clouds
Like a teardrop in the sky
The only time that's wasted
Is the time spent wondering why
Did you think it was all just magic
Just a trick I did with smoke and tears?
The headlights show the road ahead
But I live in the rear view mirror
A friend came by yesterday
He asked me how you were
I said I don't really know anymore
I never hear from her.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2872 Posts |
Posted - 10/14/2019 : 18:30:20
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You can't be Too strong...
They tell me I need to make a "fearless moral inventory" and seek forgiveness.
There are some sleeping dogs in dark corners I don't want to or have to kick.
There are some movies that come back on their own, nite after nite,
a running dialog with myself and whatever Gods are still listening.
There are some things I don't want forgiven, wanting the
sharp edge of their memory cutting me, shaping me,
forging me over the coals.
The basement in Pittsburgh, huddled in filth,
hiding from The War...
The beach in California where I "died."
His body on the road.
Her face when I told her.
Saying goodbye to Martina, laying in a bed
in the back of a truck.
The abuse heaped upon the ones I loved
and myself.
The selfishness, the cowardice, the weakness, the stubborness.
The turning away,
the lost years,
the rivers crossed at nite in the darkness...
Maybe someday I will find that there really is
A God that forgives...
For now, it's up to me to have the courage to
leave behind the failures and move on
with strength...
You can't be Too strong...
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The Nightly Vigil