Stephen C. McKinney Memorial Thread (1969-2001)
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Fist and Faith
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Furls Fire
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Okay 
I didn't see any responses so I didn't think there was much interest.
Anyway, I will try to find a short one. Bare in mind, tho, these are not finished stories. They just sort of stop. I guess he could never quite end them. Hence the label on the box.
I didn't see any responses so I didn't think there was much interest.
Anyway, I will try to find a short one. Bare in mind, tho, these are not finished stories. They just sort of stop. I guess he could never quite end them. Hence the label on the box.
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
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The Laughing Man
- The Gap Into Spam
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Furls Fire
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Oh wonderful Marvin Welcome to Stephen's thread!
I haven't gotten around to typing anything up yet. I hope to get to it soon. Then I'll post some
I'll start with one of the shorter ones... he tended to...ummmm...babble on
Welcome to Stephen's thread! I haven't gotten around to typing anything up yet. I hope to get to it soon. Then I'll post some
I'll start with one of the shorter ones... he tended to...ummmm...babble on
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
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Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
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duchess of malfi
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Furls Fire
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Hugglesssssssssssssssss Duchy 
and Fist
and Fist
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
We came to the edge of things and she said, “here again”, in a voice like darkness. The truth hung over us. I glanced over the edge and over my shoulder and at her. She peered off and away, no longer with me. “I can’t do this any more”, she sighed. My arm found its way across her shoulders and she shrugged if off. “Why did you bring us here again?”
“There was no where else to go.”
“We can go back.”
“No.” I sighed. “Back is not an option, we won’t survive.”
Her glare turned hostile, “but we will survive this?”
I nodded.
“I don’t believe you.” She turned her back to me, side-stepped away. “Death would be better than this again.”
“I feel that way too sometimes.” I said. I thought as she did. Not knowing if I had the strength nor the will to free fall over the edge again. All things considered, as we came once more to this point, it would be easier just to stop, lay down, breathe in the last breaths…and let go. Sleep would be welcomed, peace would be welcomed. To float along nothingness, free of pain…ah Heaven.
Yet, it was not an option. Suicide by lack of fight was clearly not something I was capable of doing. But, what about her? Was she capable? And if so, capable of what? Stepping over this edge with me again? Or staying behind and letting herself just pass beyond the pain?
“Why us?” Her voice shattered my thoughts. “Haven’t we done enough? Been through enough? Why doesn’t it just leave us alone?”
Hard questions. She always knew how to ask the ones I couldn’t really answer. “Is the why of it really that important?”
“Yes” she hissed, her hot eyes found their way to meet mine. “If we must jump into this again, I want to know why. I want to know how come the last time didn’t work. I want to understand it! You may be able to walk blindly along this course and not give a damn how you got here. But, I’m not like you! I never was! You. With all your strength, all your blind faith. You make me feel small. I’m not going this time. You…are on your own.”
“There was no where else to go.”
“We can go back.”
“No.” I sighed. “Back is not an option, we won’t survive.”
Her glare turned hostile, “but we will survive this?”
I nodded.
“I don’t believe you.” She turned her back to me, side-stepped away. “Death would be better than this again.”
“I feel that way too sometimes.” I said. I thought as she did. Not knowing if I had the strength nor the will to free fall over the edge again. All things considered, as we came once more to this point, it would be easier just to stop, lay down, breathe in the last breaths…and let go. Sleep would be welcomed, peace would be welcomed. To float along nothingness, free of pain…ah Heaven.
Yet, it was not an option. Suicide by lack of fight was clearly not something I was capable of doing. But, what about her? Was she capable? And if so, capable of what? Stepping over this edge with me again? Or staying behind and letting herself just pass beyond the pain?
“Why us?” Her voice shattered my thoughts. “Haven’t we done enough? Been through enough? Why doesn’t it just leave us alone?”
Hard questions. She always knew how to ask the ones I couldn’t really answer. “Is the why of it really that important?”
“Yes” she hissed, her hot eyes found their way to meet mine. “If we must jump into this again, I want to know why. I want to know how come the last time didn’t work. I want to understand it! You may be able to walk blindly along this course and not give a damn how you got here. But, I’m not like you! I never was! You. With all your strength, all your blind faith. You make me feel small. I’m not going this time. You…are on your own.”
I sing to life
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
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Fist and Faith
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Furls Fire
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LOL! Just a bit. Imagine how I feel looking at it all and none of it finished. And most of it cryptic like that one. My guess is that it was a metaphor for AIDS treatment, this "edge of things".
What I find most frustrating about these writings is that, unlike his journal entries, none of them are dated. They are just started and go on until they just stop. I have no idea when they were actually written, tho the tone of them suggests it was sometime after he became full blown.
I'll put some others up soon.
What I find most frustrating about these writings is that, unlike his journal entries, none of them are dated. They are just started and go on until they just stop. I have no idea when they were actually written, tho the tone of them suggests it was sometime after he became full blown.
I'll put some others up soon.
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
-
duchess of malfi
- The Gap Into Spam
- Posts: 11104
- Joined: Tue Oct 15, 2002 9:20 pm
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The Laughing Man
- The Gap Into Spam
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Furls Fire
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When I first read it, I imagined them on a high cliff and below nothing but thick fog. What I find fascinating about it, is that he never gives us an image to work with. He left that to the reader to conjure up. It says so much with so little words.
Of course, I think anything he put to paper great...if he wrote "twinkle twinkle little star" I would praise it as one of the greatest masterpieces of our time...hehehe
Of course, I think anything he put to paper great...if he wrote "twinkle twinkle little star" I would praise it as one of the greatest masterpieces of our time...hehehe
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
I nice piece of writing nonetheless. Of course, I identify with the person demanding to know why. 
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Furls Fire
- Lord
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- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
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My pleasure
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
December 23, 1998 2:22pm
I’m watching the snow fall today as I sit writing in the big bay window, looking out into the forest that borders Russ and Tracie’s property. Here, the world disappears and Heaven descends to the Earth. All this whiteness, all this serenity, I feel like running from the house naked and rolling in that pure mantle. Ah, and yet, I would disturb its sanctity, its divine beauty, its peaceful hush. A silence settles over the forest as the snow falls, so quiet, you can almost hear each flake touch the mantle and sigh.
God is here, as He is everywhere, but here, at this time, His presence enwraps the house with this pure blanket. And we snuggle together under its warmth, though it be cold in nature, God’s love blazes with ardor and glory. I feel warm. And this house, its walls, its space, its heart, emits the aura of the Lord’s graciousness. All that is here is holy.
I begin missing moments, I find myself thinking in one and then awaken incoherently, grasping and gasping at the knowledge that several have gone by. These moments stolen from me, at a time when they are deemed most precious. I watch the snow fall and realize that as others measure the way of their lives in days, weeks, months, years—I measure mine in hours, minutes, seconds. How close the hours seem to be dwindling down to the final seconds of me.
And now, a holy hush settles over me, and my troubled thoughts of missing moments sigh their way out of my soul’s thinking and I feel His Presence embrace me. Ah, Father, You are here. Here as You are everywhere.
**Same day, or night rather, 10:18pm**
Christmas comes again, in all it’s glory and beauty, and ah, how blessed I am to be here with all my family for another celebration of our Lord and Saviour’s birth. We are, as always, gathered here at Tracie’s house of love. This house of peace and joy and light. This house, which never seems to be crowded or too small, this house where the more people that gather and enter through its doors, the more the walls seem to swell in accommodation. The grace of this house echoes the singing of the children, as their voices praise the coming of Jesus, like the host of angels that proclaimed His coming over 2000 years ago that Holy Night. The walls still vibrate with the memory of that joyous sound. And I hear His words…
“Whenever two or more gather in my name, there I am in their midst..”
Ah, Glory to God in the Highest and Peace, good well toward men! Thank You, Father for allowing me another Christmas. Thank You, Father for the glorious gift that is Your Son. Thank You, Father for my beautiful family. Thank You, Father for my life.
Oh holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Saviour’s birth
Long lay the world
In sin and error pining
‘til He appeared and the soul felt His worth
A thrill of hope
The weary would rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees
Oh hear, the angel voices
Oh night, divine
Oh night, when Christ was born
Oh night, divine
Oh night, Oh holy night!
Ah sweet music! My favorite of all Christmas hymns, and the walls still echo with its beauty. In this house of love and light, we welcome Christmas once again.
I’m watching the snow fall today as I sit writing in the big bay window, looking out into the forest that borders Russ and Tracie’s property. Here, the world disappears and Heaven descends to the Earth. All this whiteness, all this serenity, I feel like running from the house naked and rolling in that pure mantle. Ah, and yet, I would disturb its sanctity, its divine beauty, its peaceful hush. A silence settles over the forest as the snow falls, so quiet, you can almost hear each flake touch the mantle and sigh.
God is here, as He is everywhere, but here, at this time, His presence enwraps the house with this pure blanket. And we snuggle together under its warmth, though it be cold in nature, God’s love blazes with ardor and glory. I feel warm. And this house, its walls, its space, its heart, emits the aura of the Lord’s graciousness. All that is here is holy.
I begin missing moments, I find myself thinking in one and then awaken incoherently, grasping and gasping at the knowledge that several have gone by. These moments stolen from me, at a time when they are deemed most precious. I watch the snow fall and realize that as others measure the way of their lives in days, weeks, months, years—I measure mine in hours, minutes, seconds. How close the hours seem to be dwindling down to the final seconds of me.
And now, a holy hush settles over me, and my troubled thoughts of missing moments sigh their way out of my soul’s thinking and I feel His Presence embrace me. Ah, Father, You are here. Here as You are everywhere.
**Same day, or night rather, 10:18pm**
Christmas comes again, in all it’s glory and beauty, and ah, how blessed I am to be here with all my family for another celebration of our Lord and Saviour’s birth. We are, as always, gathered here at Tracie’s house of love. This house of peace and joy and light. This house, which never seems to be crowded or too small, this house where the more people that gather and enter through its doors, the more the walls seem to swell in accommodation. The grace of this house echoes the singing of the children, as their voices praise the coming of Jesus, like the host of angels that proclaimed His coming over 2000 years ago that Holy Night. The walls still vibrate with the memory of that joyous sound. And I hear His words…
“Whenever two or more gather in my name, there I am in their midst..”
Ah, Glory to God in the Highest and Peace, good well toward men! Thank You, Father for allowing me another Christmas. Thank You, Father for the glorious gift that is Your Son. Thank You, Father for my beautiful family. Thank You, Father for my life.
Oh holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Saviour’s birth
Long lay the world
In sin and error pining
‘til He appeared and the soul felt His worth
A thrill of hope
The weary would rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees
Oh hear, the angel voices
Oh night, divine
Oh night, when Christ was born
Oh night, divine
Oh night, Oh holy night!
Ah sweet music! My favorite of all Christmas hymns, and the walls still echo with its beauty. In this house of love and light, we welcome Christmas once again.
I sing to life
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
-
Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven
I know I posted that one before...before Isaiah passed. It's just so beautiful.
Christmas is here again....
God's Gift
Little Baby on the hay
soon there'll be another day
when nails shall pierce your hands and feet
as you provide our sin's defeat.
Risen Jesus on the throne
we lift our praise to You alone
for You're the gift that we receive
the moment that our hearts believe--Roy Lessin
Peace to all my friends here at the Watch this holiday season. May you all find love, joy and grace in the coming year.
Hugglessssssssssssssssssssss
Christmas is here again....
God's Gift
Little Baby on the hay
soon there'll be another day
when nails shall pierce your hands and feet
as you provide our sin's defeat.
Risen Jesus on the throne
we lift our praise to You alone
for You're the gift that we receive
the moment that our hearts believe--Roy Lessin
Peace to all my friends here at the Watch this holiday season. May you all find love, joy and grace in the coming year.
Hugglessssssssssssssssssssss
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
-
Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
- Posts: 25472
- Joined: Sun Dec 01, 2002 8:14 pm
- Has thanked: 9 times
- Been thanked: 57 times
That's also my favorite Christmas hymn.
Thank you, Stephen and Tracie, for your constant example of what Love is. I have such a wonderful image of that house on the mountain!!
HUGGLESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Thank you, Stephen and Tracie, for your constant example of what Love is. I have such a wonderful image of that house on the mountain!!
HUGGLESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
Furls...what a DOLT i am....Stephen C wrote:We came to the edge of things and she said, “here again”, in a voice like darkness. The truth hung over us. I glanced over the edge and over my shoulder and at her. She peered off and away, no longer with me. “I can’t do this any more”, she sighed. My arm found its way across her shoulders and she shrugged if off. “Why did you bring us here again?”
“There was no where else to go.”
“We can go back.”
“No.” I sighed. “Back is not an option, we won’t survive.”
Her glare turned hostile, “but we will survive this?”
I nodded.
“I don’t believe you.” She turned her back to me, side-stepped away. “Death would be better than this again.”
“I feel that way too sometimes.” I said. I thought as she did. Not knowing if I had the strength nor the will to free fall over the edge again. All things considered, as we came once more to this point, it would be easier just to stop, lay down, breathe in the last breaths…and let go. Sleep would be welcomed, peace would be welcomed. To float along nothingness, free of pain…ah Heaven.
Yet, it was not an option. Suicide by lack of fight was clearly not something I was capable of doing. But, what about her? Was she capable? And if so, capable of what? Stepping over this edge with me again? Or staying behind and letting herself just pass beyond the pain?
“Why us?” Her voice shattered my thoughts. “Haven’t we done enough? Been through enough? Why doesn’t it just leave us alone?”
Hard questions. She always knew how to ask the ones I couldn’t really answer. “Is the why of it really that important?”
“Yes” she hissed, her hot eyes found their way to meet mine. “If we must jump into this again, I want to know why. I want to know how come the last time didn’t work. I want to understand it! You may be able to walk blindly along this course and not give a damn how you got here. But, I’m not like you! I never was! You. With all your strength, all your blind faith. You make me feel small. I’m not going this time. You…are on your own.”
had i had time to research properly i would have nominated this piece for the Prose Category in the Watchies....its just brilliant.
please accept my humblest apologies for forgetting to look here for a nomination and please continue to post Stepen's work.
it's wonderful. thankyou so much.
cyn
you're more advanced than a cockroach,
have you ever tried explaining yourself
to one of them?
~ alan bates, the mothman prophecies
i've had this with actors before, on the set,
where they get upset about the [size of my]
trailer, and i'm always like...take my trailer,
cause... i'm from Kentucky
and that's not what we brag about.
~ george clooney, inside the actor's studio
a straight edge for legends at
the fold - searching for our
lost cities of gold. burnt tar,
gravel pits. sixteen gears switch.
Haphazard Lucy strolls by.
~ dennis r wood ~
have you ever tried explaining yourself
to one of them?
~ alan bates, the mothman prophecies
i've had this with actors before, on the set,
where they get upset about the [size of my]
trailer, and i'm always like...take my trailer,
cause... i'm from Kentucky
and that's not what we brag about.
~ george clooney, inside the actor's studio
a straight edge for legends at
the fold - searching for our
lost cities of gold. burnt tar,
gravel pits. sixteen gears switch.
Haphazard Lucy strolls by.
~ dennis r wood ~