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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 01/29/2009 :  22:03:58  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Somewhere in the night, the old man is looking up
at the stars just outside his window. The moon is
rocking ever so gently, back and forth, back and
forth. He closes his eyes for a moment and, upon
opening them, sees the same beautiful scene again.
He wonders why he ended up alone....lonely for the
first time in his life. He had it all back in his
day, he remembers. Her hair was as black as night,
her eyes blue as the sky, with a smile that made
the sun shine on his darkest days. How he loved
her. When she left, after so long a time by his side,
to make her journey into the stars, she had told him
that he should look for her just before he went to
sleep. "Just find the moon, and look to the right,
my love. I'll be among the stars. I'll be waiting
for you." This - he does every night before sleep comes
and takes him down roads of memories that he walked
with her. Wandering around the night sky is the
highlight of his day, but the wonder of his dreams
in the night brings them together again, if only for
a little while. He knows she waits. And, so does he.


BGee

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2820 Posts

Posted - 01/30/2009 :  20:03:58  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Melinda's Waltz

Things to remember, things to forget
May be what's left of it now.
Days by the river, ice bound and blue
A basket, a bottle, moments with you.
Sounded so simple, and wasn't it cold?
Fresh-faced, looking ahead.
If we could've jumped forward
Looked back at today
Would we find us alone in our beds?

With your head on my shoulder
Your hand on my back
I could almost dare to dream.
Plans that we made
At the end of those days
Words that we truly did mean.
It's only too late,
When we bring down the gate,
Lock up, turn out the lights.
There's a path not yet walked
For one, maybe both
Where the past and future are right.

[So many miles between then and now
And more between us and romance
But, Hell, here we are
It's the wee, small hours
There's always time for a slow dance...]

It's nearly a year since I last saw your face
These days I'm just learning to walk
So much to offer, so little to give
But we're dancing, no time to talk.
With your head on my shoulder
Your hand on my back
I could almost dare to dream
Plans that we made
At the end of those days
Words that we truly did mean


It's snowing tonight, I can picture the lights
On the mountain from your back porch
Hard to tell, I was under your spell
I always carried the torch.
Some of my edges, cleaned and smooth
Some rough as ever I fear.
It's late in the game, there's no one to blame
What doesn't bring a laugh, brings a tear.


[So many miles between then and now
And more between us and romance
But, Hell, here we are
It's the wee, small hours
There's always time for a slow dance...]

Well, here we are
It's the wee, small hours
and
There's always time for a slow dance...

Hank Beukema - 2009




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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/08/2009 :  19:50:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Pick up the sword," he said. She followed him into the mountain. They slept in their armor inside the honeycombed cage where the caves whispered and plotted and brought their terrible heat down.
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
509 Posts

Posted - 02/13/2009 :  22:58:51  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
distance between us,
eternally just,
despite wounded souls
united

scars deep and grieving,
avalanches soft,
smothers our smiles
divided

AD January 2009
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/14/2009 :  16:54:14  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Border beckoned. The sheened ocean. The other bridge. The weeds bending on both sides of the rail. No loss betrayed his senses. No beauty escaped his eye. All that falling-down Shangri La light spangling the windshield.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/14/2009 :  16:59:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I crossed with another truck full of angels today. Plaster of Paris and papier mache. Pierced tin and bits of chipped mirror. "Anything else to declare?" "Extra halos," I said. Last time we were sent to Secondary, remember. Cooled our heels on the concrete divider while they kicked the tires and had the dogs sniff around. This morning I didn't even take my sunglasses off. You must have looked suspicious that day.
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 02/18/2009 :  00:04:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She has walked through her life with steps that have been
either too fast or too slow with no time alloted to stop
and smell the roses. Those who have mattered to her the
most were the ones she sidestepped, continuously thinking
that there would always be tomorrow to re-visit the
dreams and memories of the past.....memories worth reliving
and laughter worth sharing again in the retelling of stories
from long ago, in the re-visiting of loved ones grown older.

Time stole those plans and ran away with them.
Time took the time that she had left with those she loves
and wrapped everything into a neat package and threw it
all away. "If only" doesn't matter anymore. It's too late.
Chances are slim that she will ever be completely happy
again. There will always be SOMEthing missing in the passing
of things that stayed on a back burner with no fire to keep
them warm. No fire to keep them warm. No fire.


BGee

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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5446 Posts

Posted - 02/18/2009 :  01:36:03  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Sat next streetporch bluesman last summer New Orleans a few short
blocks from Congo Square heard in blind primitive beauty of
bottlenecked Miss National and rust-hinged singing the entire
American opera in single pitched cry plowshares work songs
rhythm oil tellin' time off belief as medicine all the way from
there to here in one plunk song sang come on n go to Beulah land
outshine the sun come on go to Beulah land outshine the sun DL
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5446 Posts

Posted - 02/19/2009 :  23:39:30  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough
to be to you just object and thing, dark and wise.
I want my free will and want it to join
the path which leads to action;
and want during difficult times, where something is opening,
to be with those who know things,
or else be alone.

Rilke
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 02/20/2009 :  01:31:43  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Aloneness and loneliness. Are they one and the
same or are they even connected at all? Do they
mean the same thing?

What say you?


BGee
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2820 Posts

Posted - 02/22/2009 :  17:14:01  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Does love get wasted?

I've been alone almost every night
for the last five years
[except for a couple of precious months...]
I have so much in my heart,
but nowhere to put it.

Where does it go when I'm not using it??

Does love get wasted?

~*~
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2820 Posts

Posted - 02/22/2009 :  17:16:49  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Don't get me wrong.

I like alone,
I even enjoy alone, after most of my adult years
having a companion or lots of people around.
Alone can be refreshing, free-ing,
time spent finding out what you missed
along the way...
Everybody knows what's missing, tho.
Fill in your own blanks...
And no, I don't just mean That...
Any number of things you live without
when you're alone.
But, hey, there's people living without everywhere.

So,
Don't get me wrong...

Rev buckman
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2820 Posts

Posted - 02/22/2009 :  17:19:30  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Happiness seems to run faster as I get older.

Used to be I could catch it
with a fast car, a stretch of river,
a woman and a bottle by my side.
Further back, my son laughing.
But then I was cheating;
I was running with false energy
from one thing or another
and now I'm not.
Slower, maybe wiser, maybe not.
It makes happiness stay a little ahead,
slipperier, harder to grab...

But I can still see it...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/26/2009 :  17:37:19  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"To keep me in the chair He broke my legs."

His slow heart beating day-in-and-day-out. His blue wounds, like peacock feathers. His spirit preparing to walk away from his body. One white candle burning on the balcony rail. Moths flinging themselves at the luminescence.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2820 Posts

Posted - 02/27/2009 :  18:33:43  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A few brave angels still
get into my house at nite.
I stuff towels underneath
the door but it only slows them down.
They hover over the bed,
sometimes with the face of Jesse,
sometimes with Martina's.
Sometimes they have no face at all
which is the worst.

I am so weary of disappointing them.
I've seen how they look every dawn
for so long
I can't remember
a time before they came.
The time of the demons
seems long past, but
I can tell you that
it is sometimes as bad
to be haunted by angels...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/27/2009 :  19:03:12  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They came with their packs back from Durrow. From its denser light and heavier air. From the creak and shiver of seafaring days. "Can we rest a while, now?" she whispers. When he speaks to her he changes her name.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/27/2009 :  19:07:17  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He leans in his boots in the doorway. The fresh paint puts him in a luminous frame. Her look takes him in at the corners of her eyes. Sideways. Shyly. Behind his right shoulder the last daylight gathers under one tree where all the benign light left in the world slopes to the ocean.

Edited by - Ailinn on 03/21/2020 17:47:44
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2173 Posts

Posted - 02/28/2009 :  17:34:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
On hot nights he interpreted the sky in what was left of Eden. A curved story rushing out of his hands. Sparks at the ends of his lashes, like stars.
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 02/28/2009 :  21:32:54  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"I'm only going to get one shot. There's just one
bullet left." Knowing I had to find his heart the first
time was something new to me. I wasn't afraid that I
couldn't do it. No, I was afraid that I wouldn't.



Sugar
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2820 Posts

Posted - 03/01/2009 :  07:28:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Effortlessly she paints. Moonbeams from other planets.
Sounds from a future passed. Colors remembered from dreams.
Stories from astral travels. Windchimes with no breeze.
A taste not recognized, but pleasing.

All things considered...

~*~

For ROR

Edited by - buckman on 03/01/2009 07:31:28
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