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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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