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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
 Posted - 10/07/2009 : 20:05:01
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One day
One moment.
One flake of time
is all that's needed
to change everything.
On that dusty street with
evrybody watching
I looked in his eyes and saw
I wasn't the man I thought I was.
I was stronger
and he could never beat me.
Even before his hand moved
I knew how it would end.
I would be the one standing
and he would be crawling-
this time...
The view is definitively better from here. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2174 Posts |
Posted - 10/07/2009 : 22:22:55
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| She brews tea in a dragon-shaped pot. Incense thickens the air with Autumn. Cinnamon. Apple. Something like that. Hive of light at the corners of his eyes now. |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/07/2009 : 23:19:43
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Time didn't stand still; it flew...backwards.
There he was. Standing over the demon that I was to face.
The expression on his face never changed, but the look in his eyes did...a look no one had ever seen. Except her.
I didn't know until it was over that it had happened before; many times long ago.
He said, "I need a drink...a real one".
I didn't know until it was over that it had happened before; many times long ago.
I could have died that day. I would have died that day.
I needed a drink...a real one.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/08/2009 : 19:49:19
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When Melinda first knocked on my door
Looking for a place to land,
I told her that I had built walls
Around my heart and that I was
Never going to let anyone ever get
Close enough to hurt me ever again...
Apparently I was mistaken...
Tonight, by the light of the full moon,
My old heart found a new path thru the woods
And into the river of pain...
Think I'll just sit here awhile
And let the water wash over me...
~*~ |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/09/2009 : 20:34:24
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As I finished the service for the boy's burial, the loud drunk continued laughing.
He was still laughing as I put three holes in him and sent him to his own services.
I will not abide rudeness in the face of death,
or in the presence of the Lord-
There has been enough of that and it will
no longer stand in my presence.
He looked good laying there face down, as if it was
natural for him to be breathing dirt.
Ashes to ashes, dirt to dirt...
This piece of dirt has gone back to the dirt in the twinkling of an eye and I feel no sense of guilt as we finish covering the boy with the last few shovelfuls.
I collect my fee and I climb on
my horse's back and push her out of the camp, heading for the next burial.
There is no shortage of paydays for me.
Death is always in season here in this land and I am always
more than ready to help them to their peace...
or to send them there if need be.....
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/10/2009 : 13:24:17
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I fall in love a few times a day.
At least.
I don't mean walking by on the street
sweaty, burning lust [tho thats a part of it]
but unborn children and houses,
apartments, trips, fights and all of it.
Even tho we haven't spent but an eye catch moment
already I feel the guilt of the fights and
the wrong decisions I would have made.
Such a blessing and a curse.
They keep my heart ticking quite long
after it deserved to quit.
Are we all like that?
I really don't know.
Christ, no wonder the world is so messed up... |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/11/2009 : 20:14:36
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She came upstairs and found him
sitting in the rocker just
looking out the window at a hawk
flying over the yard and
beyond that to the river.
He seemed sad.
She thought of a rhyme...
Eighty two and nothing left to do.
Did he have regrets?
Were they his own or for his son?
Were they because he had no grandchildren?
Were they because his friends kept dying?
Or was it just a peaceful moment after breakfast
and nothing much was wrong?
She knew.
She shared the same life.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning in March
looking down at the Hudson River.
Nothing much was wrong...
\[Hear Steve Goodman in your head, singing Mike Smith's The Dutchman. Margaret and Henry Beukema have been together over sixty years. They live on the banks of the Tappan Zee.] |
Edited by - buckman on 10/11/2009 20:38:37 |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/13/2009 : 08:03:11
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"The Big Lie (it just keeps a'changin')"
First, I said I was not as evil as he was.
Then I said they only died if they wouldn't take "no" for an answer.
Then I said, "She really loves ME".
Then I realized it was a lie.
Then I looked over at him and from the pit that we both shared, I said, "I'm taller than he is".
Finally, the truth.
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Edited by - rodeo on 10/13/2009 08:04:17 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/14/2009 : 19:46:41
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She came out of the darkness,
While I was just sailing along
Waiting for forty to come
And take me to a comfortable midlife.
Looking at her left me with the mumbles...
The kind of woman I would
never even look at because
I wouldn't want to be hurt
When she would go for somebody else
And leave me
Watching her walk away
With that black dress and
Those high heels.
Weeks later when we were
rolling merrily along
My friends would wink at me
When she would walk by at work
And make comments like,
Don't it make you proud
And
Why you?
You dog....
Of all people...
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1824 Posts |
Posted - 10/14/2009 : 20:48:51
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Hank,
Is this the way it's going to be with you and me?
You sneak in and leave a note and you sneak out.
We can't go on like this. What kind of relationship
can we ever have without direct communication? How
can you help me ..... oh, I know.... wait a second...
I have an idea. ( That could be dangerous. ) Why
don't you just continue to sneak around ... it's more
fun that way... and, at least, I'll be able to know
how you are on a regular basis. Be looking for
you soon. Now, I know where to find you.
Take good care, and stay warm this Winter. Walk by
the Hudson now and then for me..EVERY time I hear
the name, I recall a plane that landed on it wrapped
tightly in the hands of God.
Love ya,
BarbraG |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/16/2009 : 20:40:03
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After the Fiesta I needed to be alone...
I ride NorthEast for many days
Where to be October
Means something...
Where I ran and fished and hunted
As a child and learned the ways
Of the woods and of the Great One...
The trees are aflame in
Their private moondance of fire...
Against the blue of My Hudson
Reflecting the cliff faces of Storm King
It plays the illusion the Old Ones called
Riverdeep mountainhigh...
I smile to think of my Other family
Now gone on high that walked this riverbank
With me so long ago...
Oh, They were so like the October trees,
Aflame and dancing with color and
Great beauty just before their private
Winter came and turned them gray...
In the creeping darkness,
I whisper a prayer
That they would
greet me in the spring
As the trees will,
Reborn and ready
For another fling
Around the Dancefloor...
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/17/2009 : 12:43:25
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It's hard when you see
That that man that you're hatin'
Is you in ten years.
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Edited by - rodeo on 10/18/2009 08:39:58 |
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 10/19/2009 : 20:05:26
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Random thoughts...
I was in the den, he was getting ready to go somewhere, I wasn't. He said, "OK, stay". I did. He walked out the back door, I didn't. He came back in, picked me up and wore out my backside. I cried...a lot. I was 3, he was 30.
I was running, running, running! My older brother, another friend and me. I was four years old. We were cornering by the cyclone fence. I slipped and fell. Hit my head straightways on the corner post. Momma wanted to know what happened. I was pushed. My brother got the alligator belt. I feel guilty to this day, almost fifty years later...
Going out with him, fishing. A small Scott, 16-footer. It was close to sunset, a Friday. He had talked about this moment for quite some time. I was lying in the bottom of the boat. He hooked a big bull redfish. It broke his wooden fishing rod that he had brought back from Japan while serving in the Navy during the Korean Conflict. He managed to land it in the boat, cut fingers from the fishing line and all. He was proud. I was too!
Long, hot days. Monotonous hours. Shrimping. East Bay. Robinson's Bayou. Troll for an hour. Pick up. Cull. Troll for an hour... tough and boring for a young fellow, but I was with my Dad.
Sun Oil Canal. A waterway between East Bay and the Intracoastal. Trolling one Saturday morning. The net was snagged. He took off his coveralls, preparing to dive in to get it loose. The six year old wanted nothing of it. He cried, worried that his father would get tangled up on the bottom. His father hid his laughter. He calmed down the young lad. He dove down twice, to no avail. He had to cut the port door off of the shrimp net. I was excited! An early day back home. This was only a fleeting optimism. We went to Charlie's Net Shop in High Island. Charlie lent him a door. Back to East Bay and the hot sun...
Moonlit night. A small craft fishing Moody's Reef. A seasoned waterman and his two sons. Fishing. Full moon reflecting on the slight chop. The boat was casually rocking. A few bites, nothing of significance, bait thieves, hardhead catfish or blue crab to be sure. Night's lodging in the old "duck hunters cabin". It offered us refuge for twenty five years...where I got my first rabbit. I didn't say I shot it, I just got it. Out of twenty-guage shells for the JC Higgins bolt action shotgun. An eleven year old Davy Crockett came across his first rabbit. It was dispatched much to his father's chagrin. (I still have that firearm. It will be given to Joshua Dylan Wilkins, about twenty some-odd years after he is born this December.)
The announcement. We are moving to Louisiana. Oh my God! But I am a Texan! I don't want to move over "there" with all those...those Cooneys!! My protest was to no avail...
All of my friend were left behind. I was distraught for a year. I had my twelveth birthday just outside Broussard. No friends, just family.
End of sixth grade. I scored the highest on the achievement tests. I scored in the 1st year of college level. (In Texas, we completed all of our school books. In Louisiana, well...you went just as far as you could go. If you got to the end, well, that was good. If you didn't? Well, that was OK, too.)
A year later, the children were asked about moving back to Texas. I was bound and determined to stay with all of those "Cooneys". I was getting to where I could understand them. It couldn't have been because I had a bit of French blood myself...just a bit. My father should have known. It was from his side. French Huguenots.
This is not the end of the story...just the beginning.
Craig |
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Jonmark
Windchimer
USA
1791 Posts |
Posted - 10/19/2009 : 22:02:55
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Nice. |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4925 Posts |
Posted - 10/20/2009 : 09:45:47
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I hope you keep this in your files, Craig, for your children and g.children to read. This is great reading.
We all need to write things down about our childhood and pass it on. I must do that.....one of these days.
Karen Runk |
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 10/20/2009 : 18:09:57
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The lives we live today are a result of what was written in our childhoods.
Craig |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/25/2009 : 16:40:10
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It's been quite awhile, my darlin
Since we first took those long river walks
Past the shops down in Garrison
When I first heard the way your eyes talked
I think it was the start of the romance
When you put your mouth close to my ear
You whispered Forever, it's only forever
I've waited for you to appear
Are they still serving beers down at Guinan's?
Do the ladies still dance Irish nite?
Do you think we can waltz by the fire
Do you mind if I turn down the lights?
La da da, da da da, la da da dee
La da da, da da da, la da da doo
La da da, da da da, la da da day
La da da, da da da, la doo....
We push and we strain, we run thru the rain
Trying to find the right one
There's no way to name it, no way to claim it
But getting there's half of the fun
Are they still serving beers down at Guinan's?
Do the ladies still dance Irish nite?
Do you think we can waltz by the fire
Do you mind if I turn down the lights?
La da da, da da da, la da da dee
La da da, da da da, la da da doo
La da da, da da da, la da da day
La da da, da da da, la doo....
Hank Beukema - revbuckman music - 2008
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1824 Posts |
Posted - 10/28/2009 : 21:38:05
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The funeral procession advanced slowly into the cemetery
where he was to be buried. What a life he had lived !!
The celebration had just begun. He had brought so much
joy to everyone he had met, taking nothing and giving
everything. He was a man of the modern West, but he had
always dreamed of living in the days of Bill Hickock and
Wyatt Earp, with both guns blazing to stamp out those who
would take from others and who would kill to get it.
His hearse was painted like an Indian pinto pony. Friends
thought him a bit eccentric. Family adored him, knowing
that the man in the pinto hearse was the best man, husband
and father in the world. His legacy was the good he had
done with the fortune he had amassed over the years. He
had been a driving force in the lives of so many who had
started out with nothing... His family was so proud of
him.
"The evil that men do live after them ; the good is oft
interred with their bones."
Time would tell, as the celebration of his life began to
unfold on that snowy afternoon.... just a week ago today.
BGee
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2009 : 20:44:22
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Only write what you know. They'll know it when you lie.
Be careful who you tell your secrets to...
Craig |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2174 Posts |
Posted - 10/31/2009 : 18:09:15
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-for Craig.
"...and no sunglasses after midnight..." |
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The Nightly Vigil