Tuesday, October 23, 2007

An Every-Night Cinderella, Eric Bachman and Singleton 2007



I'm not alone...

As long as the wind
will talk to me,
I hear your voice

I'm listening...

The wind always
has a story to tell....

She whispers
in the night,
whipporwhills
to the moon,
frolicks in the sun

But she listens,
as she gales,
tumbling litter
winter leaves
baby butterflies
waves
crashing

I hear the sounds
of her bright voice
echo; alive


Sometimes I hear her
moan--gasp--cry
sometimes
laugh--lilt--whisper


In the night,
there are secrets
everywhere
and she knows
all of them.

But if one knows
to listen well
to her breathy voice
and feel her caress
and her soft kisses
on their face
nothing
will remain hidden

Nothing
will stop her
from becoming one,
from becoming a kite
of stardust and light;
blue and purple
and red and white
flying from the palm
of her invisible hand

And then she'll do
what the wind
always does,
she'll unravel
the kite string
one loop
one inch
one beer
one line
at a time
and set it free
a new constellation

One more brand new
Cinderella
dancing
in her midnight sky.

13 comments:

singleton said...

Clink!
"One more brand new
Cinderella
dancing
in her midnight sky"
Beautiful!
Neon lit and
flickering
in the wind!

eric1313 said...

It could never have been
except our words
breathing life into her
and now she needs us no more
she on the wall
her everything
her tears are not water
but diamonds born in the forge
of the star-gods
riding the night
sighing her soft breath
is the kiss of the wind.

singleton said...

and she glows
she knows
glass slipper in the sky

eric1313 said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
eric1313 said...

Fits her like
the water
fits a mermaid

everything is perfect
everything will burn
every night
without an end.

singleton said...

"like the water fits a mermaid"

taffeta gown in phospherescent teal
roaring
slurping
climbing
dancing on it's own

sequined
and beaded
zippered
and
fated
by the seamless
seamtress of the
sea

From the watchtower
she's dripping in
frothy hemlines
moving victorian lace
The sun pulls the curtains
endless encore
the lights go on and off
and she's swathed in tie-dyed
skin
and butterfly wings
naked
but for her soul
a crystaline
buoy
tethered to
the shore

The show must go on....

eric1313 said...

Yeah... wowsa. now it's your turn to hit publish. This is a shimmering dream.

eric1313 said...

Never mind! I got her all wrapped up and ready to go in the drafts.

Princess Pointful said...

This is a visually stunning poem.

I felt weird, but I just kept on thinking "this is so damn pretty"!

eric1313 said...

Princess

No problem at all; the weird thing is writing them! They come together out of nowhere.

Out of the sky.

Thanks for dropping by.

singleton said...

Princess....
awww, "so damn pretty"....that's Cinderellish in itself! And Eric is right, they come together on the wind.....:)

Maithri said...

Genius!!

I'm in awe of your gifts - the both of you.

Sending you a candlelit kiss on the breath of the evening,

Love to you, Maithri.

singleton said...

Maithri.....
The evening wind
brought the morning sun.....
rising....
Your candlelit gift safely arrived!

Peace~love my friend