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buckman
Firefly
USA
2829 Posts |
 Posted - 06/07/2008 : 12:34:42
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I sat in the dark in the back of the saloon, saving the world...
I could smell the fear, the loneliness and the desperation in the room.
And that was just me.
OK, just kidding. I wasn't afraid.
The other two things just sorta grew on me,
like hunger, no, that's not exactly right;
more like lines on a man's face.
After years of not looking,
one day they were just there.
Loneliness and desperation were okay,
but what with what I did,
fear was not, I thought
as I reached for the green bottle
and looked at the gun lying next to it...
One for the lonely, one for the fear;
The desperation I let go it's own way.
Like hunger, it helped me keep an edge...
It was good for business...
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 06/07/2008 : 22:45:40
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Strange how people who suffer together
have stronger connections than people
who are most content.
I don't have any regrets.
They can talk about me plenty when I'm gone.
You always said people don't do what they believe in.
They just do what's most convenient.
Then they repent.
And I always said, "Hang on to me, baby,
and let's hope that the roof stays on."
Bob Dylan
"Brownsville Girl"
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 06/10/2008 : 22:32:13
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Sometimes, I come in here and just say nothing. Saying nothing
says a lot sometimes. And, saying a lot sometimes says nothing.
I just kind of made that up. I like it. It's true.
BGee
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Edited by - BarbraG on 06/11/2008 00:44:42 |
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aussiedave
Swinger
Australia
509 Posts |
Posted - 06/10/2008 : 22:38:54
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| love it |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2829 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2008 : 19:32:22
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I made dinner for my parents tonight. As my father said the prayer, I was still cooking, but I looked over and mom had reached over and they were holding hands... After 60 years together... Just liked that.... alot....
~*~ |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4925 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2008 : 21:35:42
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You are so lucky to have them, Hank.
God bless you all
Karen Runk |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 06/14/2008 : 07:26:06
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Evenings of days when the sun had gotten so hot it made
the clock give up its hands. We'd go down the street and sit
in the veranda with old Moxie Manuel, great ambidextrous Jew
of the Cotton States League, almost blind now, who'd pitch
both ends of a double-header and drive back to Baton Rouge
after the games like it was nothing.
Sit there in the heat with him telling broken bits of stories,
his petite wife in the kitchen making mandelbrot, the smell
of the almonds, the sound of her expertise as she took the baked
bread out, sliced it, flipped it, and baked it again with
the cut side down. Later, when she'd bring it to us, Moxie
would open a piece under his nose, inhale that citrous heaven.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2829 Posts |
Posted - 06/26/2008 : 19:50:56
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I'm listning with my mind
But hearing you with my heart
I dream of all the days and nites
We won't have to spend apart.
There's too much time behind us
To miss what's up ahead
I remember waking up
And watching you in bed
Hours beyond hours
And miles from your arms
I'm following all my habits
and losing all my charms
There needs to be an answer
And we've still got time for trying
We started almost underground
But we're never far from flying
I'm listning with my mind
But hearing you with my heart
I dream of all the days and nites
We won't have to spend apart.
There needs to be an answer
And we've still got time for trying
We started almost underground
But we're never far from flying
Hank Beukema revbuckman music 2008
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 06/27/2008 : 20:17:34
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That's AWEsome, Hank. Truly.
BGee |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2217 Posts |
Posted - 07/06/2008 : 18:10:10
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| Their bare feet come together at the edge of the Sea of Cortez. Their borrowed names, sunburned, underlined in red. July again. |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 07/10/2008 : 16:15:19
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"There is a grace approaching
that we shun as much as death,
it is the completion of our birth.
It does not come in time,
but in timelessness
when the mind sinks into the heart
and we remember.
It is an insistent grace that draws us
to the edge and beckons us to surrender
safe territory and enter our enormity.
We know we must pass
beyond knowing
and fear the shedding.
But we are pulled upward
none-the-less
through forgotten ghosts
and unexpected angels,
luminous.
And there is nothing left to say
but we are That.
And that is what we sing about."
~ Steven Levine |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 07/12/2008 : 00:10:21
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There is a tree growing in Rockledge, Florida. It's one
of the most wondrous things I have ever seen. No one seems to
notice that it's there .... it's just ... there. It's roots
are buried deep, and as it comes out of the ground, the trunk
lies close to the ground for about 3 or 4 feet, and then ... it
just curves straight up and into the sky, with a beautiful shroud
of leaves forming something beautiful.
I could walk by it a hundred times a day and never get over the
wonder of it.
It's right across the street from where my Kristyn is now living,
and I was quick to point it out to her. She had never noticed it.
I thought, "how sad".
BGee |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2829 Posts |
Posted - 07/12/2008 : 21:44:39
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We are too new to know.
We are sure we are the only lovers
that have ever felt this way [we think]
We are getting sicker of the modern world evry day.
We are sure they're running a game on us.
We are so tired of it all.
We are getting better every day even as we get
closer to death.
We are misunderstood and overlooked
and
underhandled and overbearing.
We are too much to take
except in small doses.
We are finding that the ways to live without
drugs and alcohol are all boring and that
we were cleverer and funnier stoned.
We are pretty sure the line before is bull****
and the devil talking.
We are tired of everybody dying on us.
We are pretty sure that's the way
it's always been so get used to it.
We are certain there is always
something left to lose and
nothing to gain or maybe it's
nothing left to lose and
evrything to gain.
We are bears of very little brain...
Hank Beukema
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Gloria
Rocker
USA
293 Posts |
Posted - 07/18/2008 : 05:59:15
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I remember way back as a child.
We raised rabbits and they ate a special diet of oatmeal with various other items in it. One of the items seem to have attracted maggotts. My brother had a few friends over one night and got up the next day for breakfast. He mixed up the wrong batch of oatmeal for his friends...needless to say they turned a strange color of green when they noticed the oatmeal was moving around in the food.
Gloria
http://freewebs.com/gloriacomingore
http://www.thestarlitecafe.com/poets/Gloria
http://www.myspace.com/gjcomingore |
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Gloria
Rocker
USA
293 Posts |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2217 Posts |
Posted - 07/19/2008 : 17:46:35
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Three Border Stories
1. A snatch of rain spattered the pane. A confusion of branches under cloud-swollen skies. A night without stars. Stormy weather. "Gone are the days when I couldn't wait to hear what I had to say," he said sipping his syrup-thick coffee. "Just keep talking," she said stuffing rags into bottles filled with gasoline. Seven cypress stood guard over what was left of Eden. Things happened," he said, "but not accidentally." |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2217 Posts |
Posted - 07/19/2008 : 17:50:16
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| 2. "You an' me!" he said. He was angry. She was stirring pinto beans in a black pot at the boarded-up frontera cafe. Her heavy books stacked on the counter between the rusty condiment caddy and sticky fly-paper strips. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2217 Posts |
Posted - 07/19/2008 : 17:54:26
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| 3. The sun dipped below the horizon. Still a prophet in the province of the heart, he cajoled and he scolded. "Listen..." he said finally, lighting the last amber lamp. It was a Saturday evening in a village of church bells and chickens. He was clean-shaven in a shining white shirt. "...people find their own way in the story." Dust motes settled on the broken tile. Frail dreams resurrected. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2217 Posts |
Posted - 07/19/2008 : 17:55:42
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| ...the calliope plays all day off Revolucion. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2217 Posts |
Posted - 07/25/2008 : 19:29:00
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He rode three days across the high desert
When he arrived he knew everything
He showed me a card trick
He told me a joke
He told me to keep away from the window
When I took the bullet out of his chest
He didn't flinch or change his expression
He made me lay down beside him
His sleep was ahead of the posse
Our fingerprints disappeared
When we reached the Mexican border
He has scars that shine in the moonlight
Brighter than the rest of his skin
His eyes are blue
And his hair is bluer
But I can't tell you what he looks like
It was dark
Or his hat was pulled low
And his mouth was covered
With a bandana |
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The Nightly Vigil