Sunday, September 02, 2007

Sweet Friend of Mine....


It was a ten speed. Spray painted by thieves, and then, unclaimed, sold at the Sheriff’s Auction for ten bucks. We scooped it up and I had wheels.

They brought me here kicking, screaming, pouting, listening to “A Horse with No Name” on the staticky AM radio. I wasn’t impressed. The cobblestone roads, before I fell in love with them, were just bumpity and made the little Toyota we had inherited by chance, sound rattley and cheap. Piled in the front seat, with Skinny sandwiched between my legs, I watched the fancy yancy houses go by, the “isn’t it just beautiful?s” and cringed. I hated it here.

The evening of the Sheriff’s sale, I took off, spiked pedals piercing my flip-flops, blonde hair flying, cigarettes stuffed in the back pocket of the too-tight peanuckle cut-offs. I didn’t have smoker’s cough then, and I flew. Around Brewer Hill, and down, and down, and down to the water.

They were standing, shirtless, at the end of the drive-way,leaning up against a cheap little car, smoking. Just down below. Two guys with long hair billowing, lounging , blowing smoke rings, and laughing at the sky. Stoned probably. I fidgeted my fanny on the seat. The electrical tape wrapping the seat, transforming it from orange to black, stuck to my upper thigh. With my right hand I yanked the bent and crumpled pack of Kools from the thread bear pocket, poked one in my mouth, and dug deeper for the lighter.

Closer.

Faces coming into focus.

In the wind, flying, I tried to light the cigarette. At sixteen I was cool enough to do this, and maybe, even, flirt, on the fly by.

And so of course, I crashed. A mangled heap of stolen goods and a skinless chin at their bare feet. They barely even moved. “I’m Christian” he said. “Nice to meet you”…..

We spent years playing driftwood in the ocean, floating until we washed up, sun burnt and stoned. I giggled with him through his affair with the next door neighbor, Mrs. Robinson . I painted his bathtub in psychedelic colors and we planted fish there. We danced on tables and hung from balconies together. He taught me to drive a car, we traded poems back and forth and stuffed them in a manila binder…. “Our book”…….

He proposed to my best friend , beer-giddy on bended knees. We toasted. I stood by him when he called off the engagement and told the truth that sent her heartbroken, into the fast arms of a passing Navy Base Boy. I was there when his Father poured a scotch on the rocks, and his Mama, the one he gained by chance, stirred the drink she had been nursing since noon, and held her husband’s hand. I was there for the announcement, the Hush that blanketed the house, their hearts, their dreams. I was there, when in acceptance, they celebrated all he had become, the circle he had created…..

I don’t know how many years it’s been, I don’t know the date, the anniversary of his leaving me. But I know I miss him. And in the quiet of the walls tonight, I felt him here. Today, Orhan reminded me I had guardian spirits visiting ….And he’s not kidding…..

Rest in peace, sweet friend….
I hear you knockin’…..
And I'm listenin'....

33 comments:

eric1313 said...

To our gaurdian spirits--gypsies, flower-faced friends and rays of the coming dawn filtering into the night sky, Aether, the ancients called the glow before the sun, as they thought of the glow as a god unto itself, a glow that preceeds the sun's appearance for one more day.

To our friends, past and present, always their glass filled at the round table, in honor of who they are--not were or will be.

...and I have to say, my favorite nights out always involved dancing with someone warm and soft on a barrom table. The Post Bar, on Mack Avenue in Detroit, a room wallpapered with fake ID's nailed through the face to the walls--but not once did they ever tell us to get down off the tables. The waitress would even bring you a drink while standing up on top.

love it. Your posts are filled with life--love, dancing, accidents, loss and remembering that you are never alone as long as you can remember.

to life--clink!

kj said...

awwwh, singleton, i'm sorry for your loss. the memories comfort and invigorate, to be sure, but there are times when you just want your friend next to you.

because there are times when the part of you that is forever a friend to your friend isn't known without him/her.

xo

singleton said...

Eric...I first learned to grafitti in his world, and to be free, because he let me scribble everywhere, on his walls, tables, floors, shirts...and the two of us together created stacks and stacks of paper, memoirs to a moment...I saved them for years....and finally in a random friday afternoon fit, probably with a nudge from the heavens, stuffed into an envelope and mailed to his baby sister....
No one ever asked us for ID's either, he years older than I, and we went anywhere we pleased and danced, always danced....and they welcomed us....and smiled. A thousand memories we made, but even greater than that, today.....
The rush of knowing, feeling, hearing.... It came so sudden, so fast, so loud, cobblestones plinkety plinking under stolen tires....and at the bottom of the hill...my friend, just watching...smiling....

peace~love my friend, you somehow know......


KJ....It was a flood, a woosh, a wash, and I was suddenly drenched in it. His presence. I've missed him a gazillion times, remembered him more. But tonight, I might as well have been sitting across from him, drinking underage wine and stealing linquini from his plate, under the neon sign that read Phelps, long bulldozed down for a damn Suntrust Bank, and clinking! to 5 speeds on the floor, to Pink Floyd on 8 tracks, to silver lame' belts we shared...I would miss him terribly, if I didn't feel him so very close.....blowing smoke rings and choosing his words so carefully....
Thank you, my friend....

eric1313 said...

I know because I live that gambler rambler life, much like you.

And I'm glad you let me scribble. Do you see the improvement since those first wonder-filled scribblings over at 'peace? When you'd answer me back in poem, I knew that I met a soul just like mine, the only one I ever met, a thousand and a half miles away, but right in my computer screen.

And what an artist! I've noticed that your art--drawing, colors and words so sublime--have kicked up into high gear, too. We profit from a mutual undertanding. Your work is beautiful and brings beauty to the lives of everyone who sees it, from your sisters, to your friends and soul sisters and brothers all over the net.

Let her rip, baby!

(and we both like ending sentances with the word baby!)

sandykessler said...

sometimes the only way I can carry on is those gysie spirits those other angels guiding me through.When I first came down with cancer I lost 3 people very close to me - ex and new. If I hadn't been fighting for my own personna I probably would have fetused up and disappeared...this summer the same. thank goodness they are there.is your artwork for sale - notes prints etc??,

Gillian @ Indigo Blue said...

You're a hell of a firecracker. No wonder Christian keeps his watchful eye on you. He wouldn't want to miss a thing.
xo
Blue

No said...

With the vivid way you describe this, I almost feel him too...It's like I see him there with you, sitting on the couch...hangin' out...

Anonymous said...

Awww.....sister! Never Alone! The energy of life & love simply changes shape...it NEVER disappears, disipates or dissolves.
Clink! to the countless moments blessed by the beautiful Waites!
ILYSVFM~Skinny

she said...

i'm such a solid believer that when we feel a person's presence; they are there and pleased to be recognized

another breathtaking piece of writing singtome; pours out of you as naturally as a river into the ocean. effortless beauty

singleton said...

Eric....Thank you sweet, Bro! Chris and I did the very same thing endlessly....filling a trunk full of crumpled papers with words dancing on them, finally, choosing the favorite 100 or so and stuffing them into a binder....he'd write, I'd write, we'd write together. He was an English Professor who gave up the College Life to go into the deepest ghettos where opportunity was just a big word and teach English and Lit....and Life.....
Years later when he became ill, and at the time there were no breakthroughs, it was a former student, who traveled to Georgia and became his live-in nurse....And who gave the Eulogy thanking him for her life....

Sandy....OMG....May they travel with you always, watching, smiling, guiding....I can't help but feel without their sometimes opaque and sometimes thunderous presence, we'd be empty. I lost two of my dearest friends to the same, simultaneously, short lives ended way too soon, but strong souls and spirits still growing, still evident, in the eyes of their children, the sounds of our stories, the blanket of protectiveness we can't help but feel.....
Please know that since first stumbling across your Daisy's, I've thought of you often and pray, sweet girl, and pray for strength, for peace, for promise.
My scribblings are tossed out like paper kites, and live for the most part on the pages of Justgivemepeace...They're random moments and thoughts captured for just a moment, in a butterfly net....inside my brain!
Peace~love and Football today, my friend!

singleton said...

Blue....Well, you just might have this one right! He was forever saving me from the wildchild that lives within me, and if I know him, and I do, he's probably decided I need a little lookin' after lately!:)

No...Well, of course you can! He's right here, I'm sure! Happy Birthday, sweetie, I hope it's a good one!

Sister Love....Gawd, we were so blessed, the Grove Terrace Gang....Molly in her moo-moo, 10,000 stray cats, Jonathang, painted windows in the sunshine, green pools resurrected, Kimbies and her precious Mere! Clink! to the meant-to-knows, the meant-to-be's, to growing up with the best! ILYSVVFM!

She....Actually, when I woke up and read this one this morning, I almost wondered if it was me that wrote it at all....I was walking down the hall, turned, felt such an incredible presence, and then bang! He was here....And the words were spewing like iced cold kegbeer when you're 17!

Peace~love my friends

Gawpo said...

Wow, Sing's. You swept me along. So well written, Girlfren. It all goes back, I'm thinking, to his standing there---you in your embarrassment---and offering his name, turning it all into an introduction, an invitation. Had he done the cheap, common thing (i.e., laughed at you), who knows what might never have transpired. All that love got borned like a newly birthed baby. You can just continue to celebrate that birthday.

singleton said...

Gawpo...I never thought about it that way and you are so very, very right. Thank you sweetie, for giving me another day to celebrate! Clink!

SpongyBones said...

I so dig their gentle knocks too. Hope you had a good weekend.

Scott from Oregon said...

Sweet friend indeed...

I bet most of your friends could wear that piece of cloth...

singleton said...

spongy....I know you do, sweetie, I know....
Listen and we will always hear.....
Peace and much love

Scott... a cloth of many colors...
How lucky I've been to be so blessed by the circle...
Thank you, sweet friend

paddy said...

Everytime, well this time you grabbed me. I have been through the desert on a horse with no name and I'm not being glib or appear fey, and coinsidently we have just last year inherited a Toyota by chance.
I took off with you right then through it all in some similar relative way I felt you crash (into his arms)
".... and here's to you..... Jesus loves you more than you know wo wooo wo"
---------------------
"On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her/him walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay -
When the angel woos the clay he'd lose his wings at the dawn of day."
Y;-) Paddy

karma lennon said...

Okay, this was so absolutely moving and touching. I can picture it all in my head. Thank god those we truly love never leave for good.

just me said...

I can almost see him there with you, smoothing your hair, while you sleep. No, he will never leave you.

As always, beautiful, haunting, and real.

singleton said...

sweet paddy....I have that same toyota now, by fate....

"I gave her gifts of the mind
I gave her the secret signs
Known to the artists who have known
The true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint I did not stint

I gave her poems to say
With her own name there"

Just beautiful.....Listening now. you get it, you always do....
Thank you, my friend.....

singleton said...

karma.....yes, Thank God... And so the moments, the magic lives on....and love grows....somehow....

justme...I know you know it's real.... My thoughts and prayers and heart go out to you so many times, in random places, at random moments, and I cannot even imagine....the strength that it must take you to believe....but I know you do....we must....for them so they know we are listening, and for us so we hear..... hugs, sweet friend, and love

Peace~love my friends

Lizard Princess said...

A- I love the word "fanny" how you used it (don't know why!)

B- You captured youth in all of it's splendor- and ignorance (but isn't that what youth is all about?)

Bittersweet. I don't think I have ever read one of your posts that doesn't cause a strange rush of bittersweet nostalgia to wash over me.

justacoolcat said...

Circles are always completing, but few are able to capture the concentric nature of this post. Beautiful.

Mark said...

Great story and a great memory of your friend! You are a very soulful person.

singleton said...

lizard....ha! Well, that's just the way it was! LOL! And youth, how precious.....naive perhaps, but priceless....if we could all hold onto just a thread of the desire, the belief, the daredevilry, the hope.....that painted our younger years with magic!

justacoolcat/suchacoolcat.... May the circle be unbroken....thank you....

Mark...the signs.....smiling on my soul....Thank you for visiting

Peace~love to all

drips of paint said...

I cannot find such soulful memory with my past... may be there was but i am still too "thick" to realise those magic moment... so very glad to read yours and I'll rub some of the tenderness off it if you don't mind and smile away with this comment.

peace to your friend and youself!

eric1313 said...

"Eric...I first learned to grafitti in his world, and to be free, because he let me scribble everywhere, on his walls, tables, floors, shirts...and the two of us together created stacks and stacks of paper, memoirs to a moment...I saved them for years....and finally in a random friday afternoon fit, probably with a nudge from the heavens, stuffed into an envelope and mailed to his baby sister...."

Thanks for telling us this story, no matter what. It's funny how there is always something and someone behind just a lone will to write. It takes that kind of soulfull inspiration to create--and you've lived it out. Keep creating everything like you do forever and I'll try to match you like always; You're my kind of writing lovin' soul's breath on ice steaming like in the glass

Been busy, but things are turning back into the normal drummer humbeat of anywhere else, but tonight I'll post.

Hope the leg gets better, I'll be writing more soon. Peace out wild child.



Charms, Symphonies, Fire, Ice


rings circling her wrists
tink and ching delicious a
my personal symphony of chimes
of arms and her braclets
and horse shoe golden butterfly bangles
letter-charms and
rhinestone golden numbers mojo
shing singing my back
while I love her lips
breathing soul's breath

on ice steaming like in
the glass of a laughing
enchanted gambler spirit
each kiss making me more drunk
than the cheap champaigne and white wine have done to either
of us, to our inhibitions
or the ice and fire basic demands
of two desires reborn into faith
at happy hour
again
as the hundred degree August sun
dives for its corner
bell rung for another round,
it knows it can't beat the count

we already made it
a brand new cadilac
I think it's hers but I could be
wrong, since I don't care
because the music and seaty
dance floor heat
we brought with us from the party
were the only things that mattered

but the good luck charms were good
making music from changels tangs

the cologne I bought probably
didn't make me smell cheap
and her perfume didn't make her smell
like she ever nagged too much

because it was way too long
since last they played our song

and there it goes again
like silver chords strummed
and I say goodbye
and she waves one last time
our song
vs my voice
and I loved that she did that
since neither of us really
felt like talking much, anyway

skinnylittleblonde said...

knock, knock, knock, knock, knock ...
ILY.

singleton said...

Drips....You're not too thick in anyway, moments happen everyday, split seconds that somehow change our lives forever, it's on the way back, in the rearview mirror that we suddenly realize their impact... and somehow see in their going, how very very important each encounter was. For most of us, in our lives, there are a few souls that embrace us so dearly....some we spend a lifetime with, and some just a fateful encounter that lives with us forever....
Peace, my friend, and your magic wand is in your hand and heart....And you're painting the world a beautiful color!

Eric....Yesterday I woke up and realized I had lost a charm, an earring passed on from a friend, a love....
his first, my last...
and I stood there,
for a moment and
kissed the sky
and felt the ocean on my toes
scooping the trinket up
and back to sea
and
wondered
when or where or how
or who
would the blessing be passed
on to
when they stumbled on this
golden love in a parking lot,
or buried in the sand
And I clinked! them then
and wished them luck and love
and for just a moment,
missed my own.....

And then tonight, I crawl out of bed, sleepless, restless, Skinny knocking on my dreams.... and find
a
"symphony of chimes
of arms and her braclets
and horse shoe golden butterfly bangles
letter-charms and
rhinestone golden numbers mojo"
and knew
if I stood at
the ocean's edge long
enough
she'd gift me again....
Clink! Sweet friend, and peace

Skinny.....I heard you knockin' baby, but just missed you! Sending you love,love,love, love.....

eric1313 said...

You could write a beautiful poem from the words above, even quoting the poem I wrote you. We'll have to pput them on back to back pages, so the effect will be strongest,

you know...

that famous effect
that your wings cause
over the clear glassy
eyed ripple reflections
on the lagoon of time

singleton said...

Eric....

"that famous effect
that your wings cause
over the clear glassy
eyed ripple reflections
on the lagoon of time"

It's like you have the whole world in a butterfly net, for just a microsecond, just long enough for her to spill her secrets.....

eric1313 said...

just me being myself, writing the scripts on the fly. Gonna look for a good one to put up at the treehouse tonight.

talk to you tomorrow, Blue Lady.
peace out

singleton said...

Eric....you weren't home, but I climbed the rope ladder, scooched down the limb and read the walls! It rocks! I soooooooo love it!
The perfect Clink!