Friday, October 26, 2007

The Show, Eric Bachman and Singleton 2007

"Like water fits a mermaid"

A 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
sea foam splash
smile sigh
eight miles high
and deep.

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...

16 comments:

singleton said...

clink!

eric1313 said...

clink!

The new drafts are perfect.

eric1313 said...

And this one is mostly Sing's, I wrote maybe three or four lines I thought would go well, right in the middle.

i beati said...

lovin this spinning joy ride in this blog Whee . Glad i found it today ..

singleton said...

Eric....none of them are mostly or a little bit or a lot, they're a free for all, a wild tumble of the dice, you throw, I throw, we all throw down....and then somehow like that, clink! They're done, amazing, my friend!

ibeati...."spinning joy ride".... so glad you came along for the ride! Thank you friend!

peace~love

singleton said...

Eric...yup, your silly this second sun! If you're over playing in the Drafts, I can tell you that nickel posting block is haunted, it shows up as Singleton, Not butterfly and no matter how it's formatted it keeps slipping back into double space, At first I thought it just had a mind of its own and was waiting for us fill in the blanks, but now I think its downright stubborn!

singleton said...

Lined up with their painted
faces
moulin rouge cheeks,
little hens
in the ladies room
cackling
spitting
hissing
smiling
through
antique teeth,
veneered words
splinter off
their tongues....
"So nice to see you"....

Even fairytales have
cardboard creeps
climbing
through the pages,
And she believes in fairytales,
so she dusts them off
with
feather words,
billowing
sweet
cotton candy,
pink
on their cheeks

And they praddle
as she prances out the door....
"Isn't she a doll?".....

Sometimes,
you have to fix the endings....

The Butterfly Bar said...

I may not see you there
looking through the leaves
but your soul sings a song
that echoes and pings
across the body time
a piano played by heart.

All the verses we know
were learned so long ago
and all the songs we sing
become a brand new dream
echoing hazy blues and greens
across the body of time

A song gives you away
from behind the thickest leaves
your eyes give you away
as much as the sing you sing.

singleton said...

"He's been here, again".....

She fingered the cord
maybe now, maybe later
and decided
to pull the curtain
now....
sheers sliding left and right
wide screen window
slowly
bringing the morning
into focus,
the letters
backwards,
scribbled
on the glass acquarium walls

The Butterfly Bar said...

The words scribbled on glass
read out loud by a clownfish
old snapper hermit crab
the sea horse riding again
all meant one thing:

"there is life, even under glass
and flourescent false light."

The shades drawn reveal
in a red-rose light
what the darkness conceals:

That there is more to life
than swimming in circles

So sayith the setting sun,
but really
that's the last thing
that should talk,
as to live in the center
of the whirling universe
is to not know the thrill
of balancing on its end
over the black of forever
above, below, beyond.

singleton said...

She swam in circles,
deeper and deeper,
rubbing her nose on the glass,
smudges
brown eyes blue
warm water cold,
deeper and deeper
lost in the
underwater forest...
looking out....
traced her fingers
in sign language
on the irredescent wall,
the outside looking in,
knocked furiously,
sound muffled,
distorted,
a paisley oil stain in the current....
and he didn't hear her
rising to the surface
racing for air....
climbing the walls....

The Butterfly Bar said...

the loss was all his

The night, the laugh
the light she brought
claspped in her cup
of encircling hands
shone out to the world
like a gift or a sign
a hello/goodbye wink
in the cool air of night.

When he awoke
he could only
sit and stare
as she was gone
and he was still
silently
sitting
on the cold lonely
stair.

singleton said...

And from the stair
feet heavy
hands heavy
in last nights clothes
he remembered,
what she told
him was a dream,
too make believe magical
to be true,
but just like her,
it had to be.....

And so he watched
for the butterfly
on the other side
of the fingerstreaked
window
the fishnet screen...
he watched for her
to dance in the sky,
the weightless
sea...

Princess Pointful said...

Oooohhhhh.... the imagery is just delicious on this one!!

eric1313 said...

Princess

You did make it to the show! And you use the word delicious like nobody's business--and that's a good thing. Shine on, girl.

Peace out

The Butterfly Bar said...

"He's been here, again".....

She fingered the threaded cord
she thinks maybe now, maybe later
and decided to pull the curtain
now....

Sheers sliding left
and slipping right
wide screen window slowly
bringing the morning into focus,
the letters
backwards,
scribbled
on the glass acquarium walls

The words scribbled across it,
read out loud by a clownfish
old snapper hermit crab
the sea horse riding again
it all meant one thing:

"there is life under glass
and flourescent false light."

The shades drawn reveal
in a red-rose light
what the darkness conceals:

That there is more to life
than swimming in circles

So sayith the setting sun,
but really
that's the last thing
that should talk,
as to live in the center
of the whirling universe
is to not know the thrill
of balancing on its end
over the black of forever
above, below, beyond.