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buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 07/11/2021 :  09:30:39  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply


As I stepped off the train
I saw the old depot and
beyond it the dusty street that
led to the saloon where so many years
had been spent practicing my, um, craft.
Funny how different it looked
with clear, sober eyes in the light of day.

The pretty brunette was holding the
young girl that had gotten off the train behind me.
I noticed her eyes thru the tears and
how they still changed colors with the light.
She had been here in the whiskey years
but something [besides Carmelita]
had kept me from ever approaching her.
I never knew if it was the pain or the
intelligence in her face,
but every time I started to talk to her
it just came out as mumbles.

She said, I heard you gave up the
whiskey and the preaching,
so what do you do now?
I said, I try to make things right.
She said, It's a big world, why here?

I looked at her face and her eyes,
still changing, but slowly now, and said,
Gotta start somewhere, and besides,
It kinda feels like home.

2021
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 07/11/2021 :  21:00:15  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
the first new Buckman one in many years. For you, Roison. Blessings.

Edited by - buckman on 07/12/2021 18:28:59
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 07/12/2021 :  16:38:11  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...and later. Sepia color. Two people in dusty traveling clothes waiting on the platform for the train to arrive.

I see you're keeping company with the Muse again.

Blessings to you too, Reverend B.

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 07/16/2021 :  12:03:32  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

As we walked down the dirt street
together, we passed the Cafe Lupe.

I said, Are you still working there?
Betty said, No, I give piano lessons now.

As her daughter tagged behind, I whispered,
Does she know about the dance-hall-girl days?
She said, I was a widow, left out here in the West alone
and I swore I wasn't going to
make a living laying on my back.

I did it with who I wanted,
when I wanted
and not for money.
I was a dancer.
I had fun.

I said, Who's that supposed to
make feel better, me or you?

It was quiet for a spell after that....
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 07/17/2021 :  07:52:57  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Secrets We Keep from Ourselves

We sat on Betty’s back porch
drinking coffee waiting for
twilight and the grass to grow thru the dust.

She said, You know, we made love once,
all those years ago.

I said, Well now,
You'd think I'd remember a thing like that.
Seems I was so shy or drunk,
I barely spoke to you.

She said, You were laying in your room,
barely conscious, mumbling about poems
and making love to a green bottle in the dark.
I crept in wearing nothing
but Carmelita's vanilla, never said a word
got aboard for awhile, then snuck out.

I said,
Jesus, What else did you keep to yourself
all this time?

Never looking up,
She whispered,
a sound like a butterfly sighing,
Have you looked closely at my
daughter’s eyes?

From The Journals of Rev Buckman

Edited by - buckman on 07/18/2021 13:08:36
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 07/17/2021 :  16:46:12  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It only rains on one side of the street. Bright on the other side. Grass shining. "Miracles?" she says. He glances up from the easel, "I'm listenin'," he says. Small town Post Office on Main. Kettle-top water tower. A lake nearby. Short walk to everywhere. She knows the names of most of the streets now. This green edge. This Eden.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 07/17/2021 :  17:04:12  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
New wine in the granite-strewn Valle. Chimes in the arches. Sunset flush on the sky. Quail with their tippy caps coming home. He's bent over the old iron table cataloging history's narrow escapes. Sun flecks in his hair. His shoulders burned from August. "Playing dress-up," he laughs. "What were you thinking then?" "I wasn't thinking," she says. "Jus' doin' the days," he says. "Riding the subways," she says. "Ads the length of the cars. Drink Coke. Smoke Luckies. Buy Bonds. Black Jack Gum... Everyone rushing. Anonymously intent. Souls in flux. The stories there." "No blank pages," he says. "Too many worlds have already disappeared."

Edited by - Ailinn on 07/17/2021 17:11:10
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 07/23/2021 :  02:35:28  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

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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Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 07/23/2021 :  17:43:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Once upon a time takes years," he says. Sun setting through layered clouds. Sky on sky. Peach to salmon. Branches disappearing one by one. "Shiny or shining?" he says.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 07/25/2021 :  09:50:53  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Sitting in New York eating fried rice, alone,
and remembering San Francisco
Almost fifty years ago.

Cigarettes were a quarter a pack,
Gas was 30 cents a gallon.
We were so poor that we split
The fifty cent rice bowl at the
Moon Cafe on Arguello Blvd.
I remember thinking that if
I chewed it more that it might fill
Me up and maybe last longer.

So we sat there chewing and listening to Mrs Moon
Screaming in the kitchen like she was
Being murdered and looked at the
moon stencilled on the front window...

Nothing else mattered but us.

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