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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5446 Posts

Posted - 01/16/2007 :  23:39:37  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
DESCENT

In her culture they weep more at birth than death,
tears for the one who's been asked to return.
A generous sadness regarding the welcome this world offers,
the descent into suffering. Weep, then.

Yet, by kindness of spirit, she brushes aside the tears,
goes about making happiness as one would make a fire.
Winter is only a visitor, she says, one who, when he goes,
leaves so many flowers behind.

DL



http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
509 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2007 :  01:43:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
'I guess I just don't know how to articulate what I feel'

I said

I suddenly saw that love is behind everything.
......a man was going through psychiatric treatment, and he had gone
down in to a number of terrible abysses.His experiences were frightening, especially under drug treatments, and yet he finally wrote,

"There is no such thing in life as a bottomless abyss. At the bottom
of all abysses are the arms. Underneath all conceivable human experiences are the everlasting arms. The whole point is--in what universe do we live? One that is undergirded at all points by love, or not? Underneath all conceivable human experiences are the Everlasting Arms. Fall as far as you will, you cannot fall out of those Arms, only into them"

page 84 "Where I Love I Live"

G.Bingham
1977
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5446 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2007 :  02:31:18  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.”

Rumi


http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2007 :  17:08:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I believe...
that imagination
is stronger than knowledge
That myth
is more potent than history
That dreams
are more powerful than facts
That hope
always triumphs over experience
That laughter
is the only cure for grief
And I believe that love
is stronger than death

~Mickey Newbury~

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Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2007 :  17:29:10  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Copy Paste Print Clip Hang........done

Karen Runk
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/21/2007 :  14:49:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
After even heaven
What will we have then
After the after
I will still call you friend

~Kevin Young~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/21/2007 :  14:57:20  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The year was young. He had just come home from some war. They were green as the trees around them. She has photographs of their early life on earth hidden beneath fading botanicals. Scholarly illustrations, not art. Their splintered dime-store frames not worth saving for future yard sales. Clutter sure to be set out at the curb when she's gone. She maniacally private. No labels in her clothes or on her prescription bottles. He spoke in tenses. Here and now. And what came before and after. Worlds overlapping. Time and space. She's a superstitious chronicler of his grace. Won't step on the cracks in the sidewalk. Won't tempt Fate. Won't change the things he named. She sees the candles reflected in the mirror. The broken lifelines in his upturned palms. The sacks of rich soil trucked in this morning. Ferny flats waiting to sink their roots into the ground.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/25/2007 :  18:57:24  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A Chloe Story

...then came the uneasy time. Hairline cracks under the wallpaper. Skewed light and serrated shadows. Sooty smudges under her daddy's eyes when she sat cross-legged on the closet floor and he would read to her. Sirens wailing outside. The Air Raid Warden banging on the neighbor's door. Black-out shades. Her black cat named Ladders purring in her velvet lap. Juiced oranges every day. Spoiled girl. Child of privilege. Her bones absorbing black-market heat like blotting paper.

"Oh, she has such a generous heart!" the nurses aids say.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/27/2007 :  17:05:06  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...trouble was when they turned the prams around and stuck them damn plugs in their ears," retired bookkeeper, Alma Cottswold says. "Beg to differ, ma'am. T'wasn't that a'tall. T'was when they put the milk up in cartons. No cream in the bottles. No more little bulb-tops or curved spoons for skimmin' off the pleasure," says octogenarian McKenna. The assembled nod and tap their slippered toes. That McKenna, now, he's a smart one. Does his crosswords in ink in one hour. Chloe sits with her hands folded in her lap. Her mouth a closed zipper. She has a CD player on a shelf in her room and a shiny disc in her pocket. Les Brown. She also has those contraband "damn plugs". (Contraband because the insurance gods insist "the old folks won't hear the fire alarm.") 88 candles on her next cake. She remembers love's divine inventions. How the solace of secrecy defined their days. How a different reasoning took over at twilight. How they waited impatiently for the expected happy ending. At 9pm Brandi helps Chloe to her room. Chloe loves Brandi's stick-up hair and ten earrings. "Have a good one," Brandi says. Chloe nods and moves to the shelf. Her still beautiful fingers reach in her pocket for another Sentimental Journey.
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts

Posted - 01/27/2007 :  19:04:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
quote:
Originally posted by Ailinn
...88 candles on her next cake.


Eighty-eight keys from one end to other on a piano keyboard, from the beginning to the end, with all the flats and sharps of life in between...sometimes it is happiness, other times, it is not. But mainly, it's how we play the piano that matters in the end. After all, our life is our song.

Craig
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 01/28/2007 :  20:50:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She would meet him by the phone booth under the Crosswater Bridge. A weedy dirt lot at the bottom of the hill. Several County construction vehicles parked off to the side. Stored for months there. Along with the big generator lamps the road crews used for night work. "I don't want you to cry," he said on Earth. "Okay... A little." How the Angels adore him. His unassuming way. His uncomplicated goodness. There's a place down the road. A night street with blinking neon. The perspective of a tunnel. A door. A small door. Hither and yon. Where trepidation arrives. A dense shadow. Invisible ink and a candle.
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
509 Posts

Posted - 02/02/2007 :  08:40:12  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Like as a woman in pain
Convulsant with expectancy
Bears gladly the agony,
Counts little the anguish,
So writhed your flesh
On Calvary's Cross

I cannot understand-
Who fear the suffering,
Who turn my face from pain
And burn with shame
When comes the agony-
Pain's purposefulness

One thing I know,
For this my heart cries out to me:
There cannot be true destiny,
True haven's goal without
The sorrow of the Cross,
Else wounding is eternal

This thing I know,
When I am called to suffer pain:
That had he suffered not
I suffer sore,
But since he suffered deep
Pain really is no more

Into pain's depth he plunged
As never man before,
Taking the sting unto himself,
Denuding pain of agony,
Giving the senseless sense
And useful reality


G Bingham


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San Diego
Swinger

509 Posts

Posted - 02/03/2007 :  17:49:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
LA Times front page item this morning:

"LAPD officers arrested Chewbacca, "Star Wars" street performer Frederick Evan Young, 44, of Los Angeles in his furry brown wookie costume Thursday on a charge of misdemeanor battery for allegedly head-butting a tour guide. Police say he crossed over to the dark side in front of hundreds of tourists at Grauman's Chinese Theatre. The incident - witnessed by Superman..."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/03/2007 :  18:21:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Chloe's granddaughter, Robber comes to visit. Chloe's waiting in the lunchroom next to the vending machines. She has a cup full of change and a pile of wrinkled singles before her. Robber stands in the doorway and checks the photo in the locket in the palm of her hand. She has three thin blue bracelets tattooed around her slim wrist. Hearts and flowers and hearts again. A grunge angel with a back-lit halo from the Coca-Cola machine. Roberta Baron is her christened name. "She's a ticket," Alma Cottswold says. "A chip off..." says Thelma Barnes, "...the apple sure didn't fall far from..." "Acorn," McKenna corrects her.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/03/2007 :  18:23:34  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dreams are the carriage that carry us.
Close your sleepy eyes, now.
Dream.

~Mickey Newbury~
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Doug Lang
Swinger

Canada
1135 Posts

Posted - 02/03/2007 :  19:35:31  Show Profile  Visit Doug Lang's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
After a lengthy struggle with cancer, Canadian poet Blake Parker
died last Tuesday, the 30th of January, in Nelson BC.

You can hear some of Blake's poetry at the link below. Listen to
Body Talk first, then Shadow Of The World, both from Blake's
Terminal City Trilogy, a three-cd set recorded in the time after
his chemotherapy failed and he lived with his death every day.

http://www.blakeparker.com/listen_to_blake/listentoblake.htm

Blake Parker (1943-2007)


http://www.myspace.com/dukelang
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
509 Posts

Posted - 02/10/2007 :  00:50:46  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Love Incarnate
eyes of fire
burn deep into my soul
reveal my guilt
my shame

Love Incarnate
surrenders to
the sword of Wrath,
lays down his life
for his sheep

Love Incarnate
consumes my guilt
my shame,
arises victorious
to give gifts of eternal life.


AD
Feb 2007
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/10/2007 :  19:00:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The accident happened three days ago on her birthday. Now she's deep in the plush upholstered back seat. The heavy suitcase between her patent leather feet that don't reach all the way to the car's carpeted floor. She doesn't look out the window. The landscape sliding by. Clouds and windshield wipers. She doesn't turn her head left or right, or take her eyes off the man who is driving. The back of his head. His silent dark suit collar. His official cap. She's not afraid. She's angry. She's nine years old and she knows where she's going. To the trains in their dirt and cinder yard. North and south they travel. She doesn't know which way will be hers. There's a window between her and the man. She wants to tap on the glass and say, "Don't stop! Keep going!" She wants to find the place where her daddy is waiting. A treat in his pocket. A speckled blue marzipan egg in a cellophane wrapper. A gold ribbon she'll tie around her finger for luck.

Edited by - Ailinn on 03/18/2018 17:35:44
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/10/2007 :  19:03:03  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hold the hand of the one who leads you across the dirt yard. Refuse the blindfold. Ready... Aim... Hurry! Here comes the train in its tunnel of rain.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 02/16/2007 :  19:36:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Answered prayers. Happy day. Nothing can harm you. Dream now.
~Mickey Newbury~
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