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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 12/16/2020 :  18:21:58  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Apple cake on J-Dock. Waves all foam and glitter. His eyes shot through with silver. Sky so blue and pure the earth shines. Unlikely Eden.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 12/20/2020 :  16:23:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Put me to sleep, honey..." he says, "...do that." She touches his forehead, his face, his hair. His breathing slows. Becomes shallow. "The part where you left off last time. Gold wire..." he says, "...start there." "White outside the window," she says. "Trees sheathed in ice. Forest like a glistening green wall. Low light on the choir in the nave. Gold wire halos. The Sacristy lamp's red glow. First Christmas alone." She watches his chest rise and fall. "A year later, the grand Cathedral in the city my father called America. I wasn't afraid in the subway. Fifty Hail Mary's on a Rosary." "That life..." he says with his eyes closed, "...save it all."
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 12/29/2020 :  18:19:53  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Sometimes at the start
We give away a bit too much
She talked about her past
I talked about my dreams and such
We lived so far apart
Just couldn't find that middle ground
But this old world keeps spinnin
And that past keeps comin 'round.

Every time she heads for Mobile
I go headin for the bottle, Lord
I keep hearin those old stories
And I take her at her word
My head and heart they listen
Sometimes much too well
She's on the road to Mobile
I'm on the road to Hell...

Every one we meet along the way
Has a past they cannot change
She tells me today's what matters
That I'm acting much too strange
But every time she goes away
It's to that same old place
The past's become the future
And it's something I can't face

If she can turn the clock back
And try him one more time
Then I can find my whiskey
We got along just fine
There's somthin bout a bottle, boys
It's quiet and it's tall
It leaves you room to be alone
Leaves you just enough to crawl

Every time she heads for Mobile
I go headin for the bottle, Lord
I keep hearin those old stories
And I take her at her word
My head and heart they listen
Sometimes much too well
She's on the road to Mobile
I'm on the road to Hell.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 12/29/2020 :  18:33:48  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
For Ailinn:

https://youtu.be/42KE4GQPKLI

Edited by - buckman on 12/29/2020 18:34:32
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 12/31/2020 :  16:13:31  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Thank you.

Days gone by.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 01/03/2021 :  19:44:52  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have gone to that
darkest heart of the night
And seen myself looking back,
As in a mirror, Asking
"How did you come to this place?"

Flying as if in a dream,
Previously ready to die
but no longer wanting to.

It is time to shed the
old, dead skins and
bring out the new wine.

Tonite we dance, my darling...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/08/2021 :  16:57:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Canal Street," she says. "The studios near West with a Hudson view." "Ghosts smokin' under the Loop," he says. "Long walk down an' back those days. Does that look right to you...?" Two easels in the room where he's working. Blanket over his shoulders. Sun high in the sky where he likes it. His brush blazing Solar Blue. The images on both canvases similar. Brass spittoon and barrel seat by the Café door. Ship adrift at the edge of the dusty boardwalk. Endless tumbleweed ocean. His pent-up energy. His peppery grin. His spirit on the deck pacing.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/09/2021 :  18:58:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Each night
he pulled the sun down
from the treetops.
Each morning
he flung it back up again.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/17/2021 :  16:17:20  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
-The coyotes prowl at night. They come down from the canyons and howl in packs of threes. They look like dogs but their stride is more loping. More canny. More like rival gangs. Off J-Dock the sun sets red on the water. Scarlet clouds stay lit 'til 9. The stars come on one by one revealing their astral magic. Under the waves fish dream with their eyes wide open.

-Summer's last days. The fire pits cool. The Lifeguards pull on their hoodies. Low skies over open water. A dark story. Why not. With coffee. Some little grief tartlets. Cinnamon sugar on top. "We are who we are," he says. His shine. His blue heart way. His pen moving across the pages under the lamp's yellow glow. God upstairs takes aim with rapt attention. A fire on the hearth. The kettle whistling. A tenderness. For you.

Edited by - Ailinn on 01/30/2021 16:45:27
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/30/2021 :  16:01:53  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Snow there. Tahquitz high-tree miles. The old mine road abandoned. The neighbors seasonal and few. Ash on the grate. Glowing embers. Just the black and stars above. In the dream-riddled dark enough candles to burn the house down.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/31/2021 :  09:36:08  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The past's cambered light. Crimson-tipped ocotillo. Spiny branches. Surf rushing in. Bottom shells churning in the wave. Sun-hot cobbles. His step air light. His eyes full of turquois and copper. Photos. Lines in a carved wooden box. Rainy Wind Font. Cramped slant letters. Doodles and glyphs in the margins where their thoughts run off the page. A play with one plot. Smiley faces.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/11/2021 :  17:23:31  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He wants this film flickering in places. Sunspots burning through. "...warm winter coat with fur collar..." she says. "...gift from General Mills. Room Service poached eggs on toast. Tiny birds in a buttered nest." He's sitting on the top step handing up clothespins one by one. (There's a washing machine but no dryer.) Cactus and aloe in painted pots in the courtyard. Sound of water close by. She sits down beside him. Mustard and roses in the vineyard. His shirts billowing on the line.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/16/2021 :  17:35:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Days gone by...

-Window wide open beside him. Rain hissing the blacktop. "No doubt..." he grins, tipped back in his gravity-defying chair. He's holding her wrist while he's talking. The riot in the blood. "I'm listenin'," he says, "hahaha." "We had legs," she says. "We could walk away. We could run if we wanted to."

-Cold on the mountaintop waiting for Triple A. Palomar stars exploding.

-Remember the deep light down the hall. That dark honey afternoon. Paisley shades drawn at her windows. Life size Jesus in a niche in the wall. Cinderella Harbor floating below. "Mi hijo," she calls you. Presses the keys in your hand. Hand she holds at the table.

-Water leaping the channel's edge. Deep folds of sky coming down. Lightning spiking the clouds. Melvyn runs the math through his head. You read the wind's fickle angles. Steer through the brume. Know the lure's weight and where to drop it. The landmarks, seen and unseen. You lift the boathouse with car jacks. Summer sanctioned it settles down.

-The light gathers manifest around him. Dawn branches shine beside his sleeping. He can bend this light at will.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/27/2021 :  18:32:50  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
-He's facing west. All the light in the world rushing to the Pacific. Shadows lengthening. Mystery. The sea lifts and settles and lifts again. Late wings low over the ocean. Free stars up and showing. "Pieces of sky scraping our cheeks..." he says, "...so close to Heaven."

-Life on land. She touches the canvas where he clotted the paint in places. Still wet. Still alive. Still dreaming. He may change it tomorrow. Or next year. Or never. There's him and then there's everything else.

-Violet hours. Jasmine shiver. The flowers won't sleep when he's pacing.

-"Talk about this now," he says.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/14/2021 :  18:42:29  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Summer. Not the first, but an early one. Certainly not safe throwing themselves into the sea like that. Pacific climbing the stairs at Grandview. "Somethin' you wanna say before...?" he says. She says, "If you can swim I can fly."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/14/2021 :  18:44:45  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Planes coming in. Wings over India to the Harbor. His hand at her elbow in the crosswalk. Shaved ice in paper cones.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/14/2021 :  18:54:29  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
South Coast Highway near Swami's. Monks in saffron robes. Surfers. Flower carts in the parking lot. A party with donuts on the hood of a car. Business is good Sunday mornings. Melancholy notes when he plays those heart-driven years.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/14/2021 :  19:12:13  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Water 58, Air 59. And an extra hour of sunshine. Back to you, Blaine.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/16/2021 :  18:00:29  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A high bed. A fireplace. Kerosene lamp on the table. Another time. Another era. The light darker. Like the denser light of Durrow. They live a long time there. Snow in their hair and on their shoulders. Old glass. Carnival, hobnail, depression.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/19/2021 :  19:24:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They drive out to the glassblower's house. They met Clement in Old Town years ago. One of the first anchor artists there dawn to dusk. In his seventh decade he sold the shop and moved to Bonsall. White clapboard. Brick walk to the door. A closed porch with 6 over 6 windows. Spherical discs in each pane catching the sun. Chess set on a handmade table. Bookshelves full with Hydroponic Gardening and The Civil War. They drink Typhoo tea looking out over the San Luis Rey River in no rush to reach the Pacific that day. The afternoon wanes. They embrace when they're leaving. "Come back soon," Clem says. "Hopefully," you say in the lavender light of evening. They're quiet on the way back to the coast.
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