Mickey Newbury Web Board
Mickey Newbury Web Board
Home | Profile | Register | Active Topics | Members | Search | FAQ
Username:
Password:
Save Password
Forgot your Password? | Admin Options

 All Forums
 The Back Porch
 Open Topic
 The Nightly Vigil
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
Previous Page | Next Page
Author  Topic Next Topic
Page: of 165 Lock Topic Edit Topic Delete Topic New Topic Reply to Topic

buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 05/01/2005 :  20:15:29  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Not one wasted word... Every line a treasure... Richard Brautigan said that he prepared to write a novel by writing sentences that were perfect.... When he could do that he would write a paragraph with no wasted words... Then a page... Only then was he ready to begin his novel... Your paragraphs are a delight... HB

http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/03/2005 :  20:12:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I live in a small house on a hill with many plates on the table for each meal. Where we often eat in rotational shifts. Everyone being welcome. There's always a kettle of soup. With bread or biscuits to nibble. And sweet butter. He will have it no other way. The back and front doors wide open. To move outside as well as in. May is a good month for this musical-chair arrangement. And June through September. The lamps are lit late and the tame flowers still shield their lovely faces when the sun leaves the sky. It was apples I was slicing. That forbidden fruit made fresher with a hint of lime. From my kitchen window, across the courtyard the Church bells chimed as it's steeple stabbed the darkening blue. I tried to hold myself together when I first saw his reflection in the mottled mirror. But his eyes were the same unmistakable hue. And his quiver of hand-forged arrows still burned under his immaculate shirt. A radiance that showed through the hole in his worn breast pocket. Sure, I dropped the cinnamon. And the knot of nutmeg too. Venial transgressions. Proof on the floor. A pyramid of shining sugar where he stepped closer. When he put his finger to my lips and winked and whispered, "Shhh..." I turned up the tender tune on the radio. Standing there with the cold knife in my hand, faces appeared in the doorway. Hesitant and curious. But nobody asked when dinner would be served. Ah, the acquiescent power of music.

~Diary of Red Rose~
Go to Top of Page

Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 05/03/2005 :  20:22:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Quivering sounds

Karen Runk
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/09/2005 :  20:14:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Rough sugar, this wreath of thorns. When the night falls down and the stars turn up their volume. Here they come again. Crash-landing. Missing the X in the cleared cornfield by a country mile. All green encroaching. Sticks and stones and brambles too. Where the silken chute drags them haphazardly. Limp Raggedy Ann and Andy. How memories walk ahead turning back to glance over their shoulders now and then. Pieces of promises scraping their cheeks. Their lives finally settling like restless leaves.
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 05/11/2005 :  19:49:46  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
So when Christopher Robin goes to the Zoo, he goes to where the Polar Bears are, and he whispers something to the third keeper from the left, and doors are unlocked, and we wander through dark passages and up steep stairs, until at last we come to the special cage, and the cage is opened, and out trots something brown and furry, and with a happy cry of "Oh, Bear!" Christopher Robin rushes into its arms. Now this bear's name is Winnie, which shows what a good name for bears it is, but the funny thing is that we can't remember whether Winnie is called after Pooh, or Pooh after Winnie. We did know once, but we have forgotten....
--Introduction to Winnie-the-Pooh - A A Milne

Ralph

http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
Go to Top of Page

Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 05/11/2005 :  20:04:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Winnie is my hero



Karen Runk
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 05/11/2005 :  20:06:14  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Somewhere between Exit 12 and 13 I wrote a song once about a dime a dance romance under a quarter moon to my Barbie...

Somewhere between Clay Marsupial and Winnie ther Pooh is Rev Buckman..

Somewhere between the moon and New York City is Ralph, taking a few nights away from us on his beloved Hudson River raft...

Somewhere north and west of the Hudson is me reading The Vigil, my nightly adventure into reading True Artistry...

Somewhere Between San Diego and Heaven is Ailinn, weaving her spell of words on my heart...

My point? Oh, bother, I seem to have forgotten it... Oh well,As Procol Harum said, Life is a beanstalk, my son.... Enlightenment, I don't know what it means....

HB
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/12/2005 :  19:44:17  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...poor as a church mouse, I tell ya, Ro... I was starvin'!..." "...bad time, bad time, hahaha." "...that's when I really started writin', though..." "...once I allowed myself to write... ...Then I was okay..."

~Mickey Newbury~
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/12/2005 :  19:50:10  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I tried to italicize 'allowed' five times. Sorry.
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2872 Posts

Posted - 05/13/2005 :  03:54:11  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"""""S'okay""""" ~*~..... Rev
Go to Top of Page

Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3794 Posts

Posted - 05/13/2005 :  04:35:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...poor as a church mouse, I tell ya, Ro... I was starvin'!..." "...bad time, bad time, hahaha." "...that's when I really started writin', though..." "...once I allowed myself to write... ...Then I was okay..."

~Mickey Newbury~



Sometimes all that is needed is a little help from a friend, if it's allowed.

craig
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/14/2005 :  18:09:01  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I love those slanting letters. Thank you, both.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/14/2005 :  18:21:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Blue breeze mica-flecked air. Sunlight glinting off water. Jeffrey and Cameron are fish. Surfing the off-shore ledge in a southern wind. San Diego water 67, air 81. Paddle out. Snap up. Wide arms spread reaching for destiny. Fingers are brakes. Raking the rolling walls. What slows you inside the whisper and the roar. Hear your heartbeat in the curl before you scream looking out through green windows. Silver streamlets spinning off the ruffled edge. No two waves alike. The trick is finding bottom. And not getting hit in the head with the board. A long ride in when we're lucky. Or wipe-out and eat a lot of sand.

There's a party for the Lifeguards tonight. A tradition before Memorial Day. Moonlight Beach between Swami's and Eden. Combination Mexican/Luau/Barbecue. Food on leaves and sticks. Beer in cans. Wine and the Beach Boys in boxes. "...help me, Rhonda. Help, help me, Rhonda... GET her outta my heart..."
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2005 :  17:44:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He caught the spirit in the glass before she raised it to her mouth. In that house where he was always happy. Where chaos lived a mile down the road. Not welcome. But not shunned either. He was Mercy. And when new flowers nodded and preferred to doze he understood their summer longing. His dreams in a satchel. Haphazardly tied. The punched ticket fraying in his back pocket.
Go to Top of Page

Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5446 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2005 :  21:29:53  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Lament

Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely,
your path struggles on through incomprehensible
mankind. All the more futile perhaps
for keeping to its direction,
keeping on toward the future,
toward what has been lost.

Once. You lamented? What was it? A fallen berry
of jubilation, unripe.
But now the whole tree of my jubilation
is breaking, in the storm it is breaking, my
slow tree of joy.
Loveliest in my invisible
landscape, you that made me more known
to the invisible angels.

Rainer Maria Rilke


visit http://www.betterdaysradio.blogspot.com
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/18/2005 :  20:39:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He has the scorched Almanac out on the table. His maps and charred ancient charts. He unscrolls the parchment with it's edged terra cotta. No apparent X appears. Just the legend in heiroglyphics. She watches as he coaxes the fickle latitude and longitude to align. Where the earth's rent rim is fissured with salt waterways. Where stakes, like swords await the bright fruits arrival. The children lean closer. Press their small faces to his sun-warmed shoulder. Follow the finger he points to the welcoming ground. This is the time he loves. The beginning. Before the first green shoots appear. Before new leaves break through to start their summer-long ascension. May 19th.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/19/2005 :  19:34:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Two tin cans and a thousand feet of string. Meet me at Yellow Coyote sitting out under stars. Nothing's changed. Happy Birthday, dear heart.
Go to Top of Page

Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5446 Posts

Posted - 05/23/2005 :  12:25:14  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Under One Small Star

My apologies to chance for calling it necessity.
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking
that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologize for my record of minutes to those who
cry from the depths.
I apologize to those who wait in railway stations
for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you
bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in
the same cage, your gaze always fixed on the same point in space,
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity, please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck
the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everything that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be
each woman and each man.
I know I won't be justfied as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
then labor heavily so that they may seem light.

Wislawa Szymborska


visit http://www.betterdaysradio.blogspot.com

Edited by - Doug L on 05/23/2005 12:29:07
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2005 :  16:54:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have a bracelet of Gaelic names and I've used every one of them. Never the same name twice. Mick explained it to me. Complicated and involved. "Whoa, I can't follow that," I said. "...then be careful who you tell your secrets to, hahaha..." he said. We're just back from the beach. Shivering. Sunny this morning, but now a cloud's come to earth and the fog is rolling in. Love all day on the shore. Heart-shaped shells and seagull prints like tiny sailboats on a plate of sugar. Even the guy with the metal detector was coming up with treasure. Now we're cooking Albondigas soup. Like Italian wedding soup, only Mexican. Tiny meatballs. And the spices get way dialed up. "Serve with a fire extinguisher," Mirella says. This mornijng she brought me a day lily called Acalpulco Nights. Dark red. Dark. Black almost. Heavy velvet flowers with ruffled edges. And another called Frankly, Scarlet. True red. With a soot-smudged yellow throat. So beautiful. "But, Mirella...!" I said. She knows flowers prefer suicide to crossing my black-thumb path. Except cactus which curiously thrives. "Don't go looking too much into things," she laughs.

-Memorial Day. For the service and the sacrifice... Our eternal thanks and prayers.

Edited by - Ailinn on 12/19/2015 12:39:36
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

2245 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2005 :  16:58:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...be careful who you tell your secrets to..."

~Mickey Newbury~
Go to Top of Page
Page: of 165  Topic Next Topic   Lock Topic Edit Topic Delete Topic New Topic Reply to Topic
Previous Page | Next Page
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
Jump To:
Mickey Newbury Web Board © 2003 Mickeynewbury.com Go To Top Of Page
Snitz Forums 2000