Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Eyes that Sing, Eric Bachman 2007

I may not see you there
looking through the leaves,
but your soul sings a song
that ripples true and rings
across the body of time
a piano played by heart
a hundred notes and lines.

Every verse you know
was learned so long ago.
And all the songs you sing
are from a siren's dream.
Echoing the blue sky blues
autumnal virgin forest scene
across the body of time.

Your song gives you away
behind the thickest leaves.

Your eyes give you away
the body of time, a dream.

Your heart may be alone--
I listen for it's wild call.

Your eyes they sing
a song of midnight lights,

Dancing through the distance
the burnt gold leaves of fall.


singleton said...

And youknowiknowyouknow how I feel about this one! And still you add a word, a comma, a thought teetering on the edge of.....
Peace, my friend, travel safe.....

singleton said...

Cigarette balanced
just so
doing gray ballet on it's own
ashes to ashes
and we all fall down

fighting for
right handed time with
crayolas and
ink pens
and pauses in conversation....

And she's back,
Deja Vue with different wallpaper,
hugging the wall,
staring at me
staring at her
waiting for
to be a name called out loud,
but they're just the same....

And I color them endlessly.....

MyUtopia said...

neat site!

Maithri said...

Ah what beauty you speak here!

Soft Eyes...
Playing that first
in Loves concerto,

Harmonies of light,
Chords of sensuality,
From the open windows of the soul,

Radiant pools
of unborn tears,
Rippling with
brimming over
with love,


singleton said...

Myutopia....We're still painting the walls and draggin' out the tables and chairs! Thanks for stoppin' in and visitin'! Clink!

Your writing is a waterfall
of sounds
falling stars
in a never ending
Just beautiful!

Lost Girl said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
karma lennon said...

I like the colors! You guys are amazingly talented! :)

singleton said...

karma...you can paint on the walls anytime you like....we keep the chalk, the spraypaint, and the bic pens just outside the door, clumped in a pile, by the "Must be 21 to enter after 9:00" sign....
peace~love little one

singleton said...

It was cold when they
opened the double doors
smoke breath
frost breath
out of breath
was the ticket in
for free
and I held my
paid the cover at the door...

eric1313 said...

walked through a hallway
scantly lit and ringing with Friday night's buzz of desperarion

passing the kids and their fake IDs
the regulars and the waitresses
the players, dancers and swayers
single day regulators and then
there's maybe a spirit or two.

I'll have to wait twenty minutes
at the beaten copper bar
but they never left my bottle empty
or a word drop

Because the bartender likes me

because I've been here too long,
or maybe
long enough

like a penny in the well
I fall farther, faster
because I wouldn't be missed

but a voice behind me says I'm wrong

two splashes echo
as the cash register rings

and people talk and
the band sings
to the beat of Friday night's pulse

It's not your own yet it helps you
to find your own level
no matter how deep you have to go.

Tonights are too short
but tomorrows
are a long way yet
flying like the crow
sour mash bird on a train
before the sun light.

Like always
the sky
with the scarcest thread of light
looking on me--
coming or going.

singleton said...

I can't dance
Can't hang on
hold on
to the last verse
any longer
any lower
any more hallelujahs gone
but I wanted
to say thank you
and I wandered in
when the sun was
powder puffing the sky
and the black lights
were hibernating
to scribble
a teeny tiny
nothing in the coppertop,
to leave
the slightest
to bury itself
amongst the
wet bottlerings....

eric1313 said...


that was good all by itself!

eric1313 said...

Damn! I can't even spell that right.

I'll write one right now.

eric1313 said...

If the people get louder,
the band gets louder
until every body nods
'yeah, yeah, yeah'--
until after last call
when the drinks lift
clinks! resound in choir
and everyone gets told
they don't have to go home
but they can't stay here.

But sometimes they do

singleton said...

"but, sometimes they do"

"Will you be my dream?"
Neon lit and
electric fireplace
plugged in
never ending
never rekindled
always burning...

Electric waterfall
Psychedelic slide show…
“Will you be my dream?”

And he said yes,
And meant it…
Storybook endings

While she slept…..

singleton said...

It's 1:30 and they're raisin'
their bottles
their red blue glasses
in the air
cheek-kissing their new best friends
and accidental lovers...
heaven for one last
haunted dance

the lucky ones
go home
with ghosts

singleton said...

And the morning mirror
is a
drowning pool...

singleton said...

Sunday news
piped in Religion
through my windows
TV's three doors down
scores and hymnlines
infomercials for the sleepless....
and I'm a jellyfish....
long arms and legs
lost on the coquina riddled shoreline
"You call this a couch?"
transluscent blue and pink
saran wrapped skin
poisen dying
in the
morning sun.....

singleton said...

The bartender called me
at home
found the phone
number on a wadded up napkin
carved in the bar
transferred over
to find out if
we were free
for karaoke
or Fridays, again.

To wonder out loud
what happened between
the last kiss on the cheek
and now...

karma lennon said...

Thanks, Singy. I'll have to try to get on here one night and play with you guys.....

singleton said...

karma...we climb the walls at random crazy times, accidently karmic, and would love, love,love to have you Clinkin' with us at the bar! That would be so very very cool!

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