Friday, December 28, 2007

Pixie Hat, Eric Bachman and Singleton, 2007


Sweeping out the front door
unshowered,
yesterday dressed,
on a faerie's
daylight
twighunt...

Barefooted
and sunned.

I'm off to gather
trinkets,
rock,
stones,
powdered gold--
to weave a
pixie hat...

* * *

She sweeps
out the front door--

to gather
her magic,
and see what
the tide brings...

An angel
on her shoulder.

Her heart
on greensleeves.

A devil
smiles in the details.

Waiting to see
how her pixie hat turns out.

Waiting for the moment
when all will be said,
and yet there's still
a little bit left undone.

38 comments:

singleton said...

Ta!dah!

The Butterfly Bar said...

yep! We are soooo magic!

singleton said...

Oooops
Always undone
unraveled
unfinished.....
a little bit more
of the magic
to come....

The Butterfly Bar said...

what?

Just kidding! I saw it and fixed it up...

Perfect...

singleton said...

what did you fix?

singleton said...

:)
Oh, Good Lord, Its'a good thing we don't work in an office together....
you'd be forever
cleaning up behind my
"It's all good, let it fly"s! :)

singleton said...

You're still sweeping, arent you? :)

eric1313 said...

I'm here, just looking around, then the phone ran and it was Kristen.

eric1313 said...

Hey, it would be good to work in an office with you. You're the idea lady, and I'm the perfectionist.

It's when two perfectionists collide head to head that trouble erupts. Because no two people have the same vision of perfection.

If you were a perfectionist, you wouldn't do outsider art. Your art is made better by the little imperfections that you turn into extra wonders.

I admire that.

eric1313 said...

and like that... poof!

She's gone... (for want of the ten minutes looking around...)

'night, my friend. We do beautiful work together.

skinnylittleblonde said...

How sweet it is...
gathering trinkets, busted-ups, broken-downs, missing bits & left-behinds in my pocket.
Skip, tip & dip towards the dark
drawn my the moonlights sky
once towards midnight
and twice to two
it's the simple little things
pulling us through
how sweet it is...

eric1313 said...

SLB

Sweet friend, that's the spirit I've come to love in you both. That what other's throw away, you keep, what someone thinks is useless, you think is beautiful.

How sweet it is...

And how sweet it will forever be.

Gledwood said...

I love those verballyvisuals... hey I come over all poetick this evening you can critique my work if you like it's on my main blog http://gledwood2.blogspot.com be entertained!!

singleton said...

Eric.....And that's like my favorite line from
Who's afraid of Virginia Wolfe?

"And poof! it was gone!" :)

Sorry for the disappearing act, the later it gets here, the more people that come through the door! :)

Sweet SLB.....
How sweet you are,
sweeping magic off the floor
trinkets doomed for trash,
teeny tiny new life there,
salvaged,
now it's stash!
ILYSVVM!

gledwood....I'll bop by around beerthirty, love to be entertained!:)

singleton said...

The wind is whistlin'
Hank Williams,
and I hear the whipporwill
through open windows,
white curtains blowin',
lonely guitar at the edge
of the ocean.

Cars pass,
fast and jacked, radios
blaring,
and the music and the musk of
Saturday night maybes
headlights wide open
drift into my kitchen....
Southern Cookin'
stewin'
brewin'
drivin' in circles....

I turn the porch light off
and sit on the steps
barefoot and
mooneyed....
watchin' them race....

the wind and the wannabes....

Out on the town....

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

And that, my friend
is Johnny on the catwalk,
Hank with a bottle on the seat,
topless car in baby blue,
belting out
hell on the highway,
heartwreck hotel
a buck fifty
for your dreams,
free ice
clean sheets
and nightmares in the morning....

I don't know how you do it....

But I knew there was a reason I needed a movietheatre seat.....

eric1313 said...

I'm on a plane to old Vietnam;
it's not my war
not my time
my place
my way

I'm filing past the boys
men, as they say they are
but boys all the same--
peach fuzz stubble
eyes looking past the front
at the man in black
that they all know is near...

taking a seat by the window
I buckle in for the flight
Johnny Cash is audible
He hasn't seen the sunlight
since he don't know when--
and to this I can relate

The sun departs in pink haze
but this plane will catch it,
pass it on our way west
to the war torn far east;
time itself knows
that this is only
a trick of the light...

It marches on
and with it do we.

Johnny sings to me:
"Life ain't easy
for a boy named Sue"
and I could cry blood tears
if I weren't a boy
with orders to be a man.

The ground falls away
and the air gathers us all
to its expansive, windy breast
for one last kiss goodbye...

Johnny leans in so close
that I can smell the whiskey
the stale smoke of dead nights
and I'm there in that cell
with him as he sings his blues;

"Smoke em' if you got'em, kid"

he says with his scratchy
marlboro and scotch voice.

But I don't got'em so I
take one from the man in black
(he's a nice guy, easy going)
as the iron bars clink closed
and today becomes tomorrow
somewhere over the Pacific...

In this flying prison cell
a coffin for the living,
a boat on the river Styx
copper coin in hand shaking
to pay our way to Hades
in the jungle of a foreign land
with strict orders to be a man
to take our death as it comes...

The man in black stays silent
the rest of the way in country.

Time marches on and on and on
and soon it will catch up
to us all...

As that flying iron coffin,
that cacophonous cell on wings
boatman on the windy river Styx
says good by to bring more dead,
we march with time at our backs
guns pointed at every shadow
boys to men to bodies in boxes
burnt up in Dante Johnson's ring
a circle of hell's own fire.

The man in black sheds one tear
for each of us living dead
or just plain dead...

And sings his song of sorrow
for the boys ripped from life
for home in a foreign land.

eric1313 said...

Whoops! Sing, I need to revise it! I thought you weren't coming!

I've read enough Johnny Got His Gun, heard enough horror stories from uncles and armless legless men outside the VA that people wish would have died... I know their stories since I was a little boy...

I know why you love peace, my friend, and I'm there with you...

A hippie about twenty years too late...

Peace and love

singleton said...

It's never too late, my friend....

eric1313 said...

no it isn't to late
and I can sing their song
this one still ain't perfect
but I'll leave it as it is
and maybe later when I hit publish
it will be just right

TY, my friend

eric1313 said...

How are you?

eric1313 said...

did you clink by my treehouse in real time?

Princess Pointful said...

Trinkets and twighunts... such faerie words!

Taking me back to your May Queen comments, Eric!

Enemy of the Republic said...

Yo, Butterflies, I know I am supposed to either burst out in song or heroic verse, but the muse hasn't had her coffee. I would be honored to be in the company of you both at last call. My mom would be fine. I'm sure I've done worse.

singleton said...

Eric....Oooops, do I keep fallin' off the barstool? :) I love, love, love your latest post, the realness is so raw and smokey~souled......Just incredible, my friend

Princess..... May Queens and Pixies at the bar! Ta! Dah!

Enemy....Last call is your call girl, join us anytime, the butterfly bar is open twenty four seven and eleven! And we'd be honored, of course!

Peace~love
Gluing beer caps on the wall....

singleton said...

This is it
the last night
the dark night
the kiss me quick
goodnight night,
tomorrow is
just parade candy
scattered on the streets,
the sacraficial hour,
this is it,
the last night
the dark night
the only night left unclaimed

singleton said...

My neighbor
weaves wives tales
and strings them on
the clothes line,
shutter to shutter,
and chants them,
rants them,
hangs them out to dry.....

"What you're doin' on New Years
spells the year to come".....

Three years ago I laughed
and stayed home and painted,
dialing loved ones and lost ones
at midnight.....

I learned my lesson last year.
Wive tales are for fools
and lovers
and me....


I'll be dancing......

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

the wive's tales
chasing themselves
with sing-to-me-circles
in the Old Year's
footsteps
the road behind

the new tales I chase
have only just begun
to take shape
and find the words
and seek their own
light and life

eric1313 said...

It came to be
like all the rest--

The old one numbered
the last month meandered
to the last wild week;
the last day breaking
down down down
to happy hours
to mad minutes
silly little seconds
spiraling down...

three
two
one

Kiss me when the new one gets here
and send the old one off in style.

singleton said...

Midnight
the child of day and night
yes~no~maybe,
"Don't look back",
Midnight....
the mother of all fevers
clandestine
taboo
collapse,
The stallion of sleepytime strength
studded
and standing
raising his voice
and drawing the line in black~magic
marker
"This is the now, the only
moment ever
between yesterday
and tomorrow"

Midnight,
the
Second Chance Martini.....

I'll have mine on the rocks, please

eric1313 said...

Midnight...
the love child of day and night
the great yes~no~maybe,

"Don't look back"

Midnight...
Born in the arcane math
of 24 and back to zero,
clean slates filled
with a lover's mark,
one more X traced
on our skin by hands
we know by heart.

Midnight...
patron hour
of witches
tyrants
gypsies
jokers
drawing the line in black~magic
marker
stallion of seductive strength
time's marathon ends--
the mother of all fevers
endless
clandestine
taboo.

Midnight...
as the old fire light fades,
a new gift of 365
sunsets and rises
and sacred mysteries,
soft~lipped passing
caress of our greatest
enemy
turned
lover.

Midnight
fizzing
running over
spilling enchantments
like gifts of a wise Magi
from the distant east...

Midnight--
"This is the only now,
the endless moment,
ecstasy born between
yesterday and tomorrow"

As midnight falls upon us
making everything old new
and everything beloved
to begin yet again...
glasses filled with
Midnight love on the rocks
a Second Chance Martini...
spilling over
in hopes that no acquaintance
ever
be forgotten.

eric1313 said...

There's our post for tonight!

Clink!

singleton said...

Ta! Dah! Real time! Clink ya, baby! That's a beaut!

The Butterfly Bar said...

Real time it is!

Maithri said...

Hey there my friends,

Just thought i'd pull up a seat and watch the butterflies...

The Rainbow
ends
Here

Grows wings
Here

turns
the world
into a kalaeidoscope
of painted
words

Dancing through
the velvet
night.

Love you both,

M

singleton said...

Ahhh, Maithri, Sorry I missed you at the bar....
we could have all
scooched in and
passed the peace!
Happy Sunday, friend.....