Of course, it was a catastrophe. The pony-tailed redneck and I, but what the hell, we loved to dance, he was a great cook, I was a starving artist and....
he had her...."Baby Dumplin'".....And I fell in love with her hopelessly, and forever, and instantly. My first born daughter, seven, blonde hair ~long and tangled, cheese curl toes, and green eyes.
In the third grade, she had to draw a family tree for art class. The teacher called me. I still have it tucked away, it's roots wild and scattered, it's limbs heavy and old, and names hanging everywhere, like wild laundrey whisped from it's line.....the intricate scribblings of a child....connecting the dots between the people she was born to, and those she was fated to.
Tonight, I dug it out, and saw what she saw....the endless constellation of dots...
What is and what is meant to be....
89 comments:
"What is and what is meant to be..."
That's a perfect ending to a good story, a bitter sweet story, to be precise.
Her familly tree was swayed by a heavy gale, and now look how strong it is.
Your art shows us this.
Eric...The wind is blowing, Go! You know....follow it!
Clink!
I am the might butterfly bar...
Know
That a royal maiden has now been born.
on the horizon she rests without a squall
Her tears are not we, but diamonds born in the firey heart of the stars that spell her name...
She's beautiful....
glass slippered butterfly in the wind....
Beautiful!
Clink!
Rock on, my friend. You eating dinner? I'm starved and exhausted. I slept not one wink all night.
An all nighter... And still I am the wind--the fourth wind!
Oh, I had that night, too....But I tried.....
And tonight, the wind, the chimes, the music, the blue lights
chasing down the
lost
won't matter,
sleep will win,
a blanket heavy,
it's turn at bat...
I'll be around in a bit.
I'd like to put the other one into draft and have it ready to realease, say, tomorrow, or whenever.
Red neon etching a black light sky
Ride the wind, my friend, rock on...
it's coat tails are many colored and kited to fancy stories....
write on....
The color of the sky changes
in my sleep,
the fifth wind travelin' on...
red neon in the black light sky
A great family tree grows in really good soil...
chill. this daughter of yours will understand everything from reading this.
how'd you get so wise, singleton? as smart and cool as i like to think i am, i'll be holding on to kodak photos while you're chasing butterflies...
:)
Aaaaaahhhhhh!
Wow! - I see it too tonight my friend, through your beautiful words... That endless constellation of dots. That link between this moment and the destined moment.
It fills me with hope and peace.
Love and light without end, M
Musical. Your writing is musical.
Are they still not there? Hmm I can't figure it out I just finished a post and published it. Try going back to it now. If they're not there tell me.
Thanks for tellin me.
i was gonna say melodic. i could definitely dance to it. a miles davis quality. earlier this year my friend wrote an opus about her daughter discovering her toes for the first time, sensing them with every sense. something about children, newness of self-discovery. what else is there to discover anyway? what else can one really know but oneself? thanks for the meditation, and i'm out.
I tend to like the people I've been fated to better than the ones I was born to. :) Beautiful writing as always, Singy.
I'm spending more time at this page because I see how your muse affects Eric's great poetry. And damn, girl, you got it going on.
Marriage--why? I love my husband; don't get me wrong, but marriage is the best way to fuck up a perfectly good relationship. Live in sin or give the man a key. But that's for my next lifetime.
and may the dots do just as they should ... never end and complete the perfect picture in the eye and hearts of all children everywhere.
yummy pink champagne
it only takes a child but a minute, what it takes us lifetimes to understand...
cheesecurled toes and all
singleton..you are the bomb..
k:)))
The dots.... in a circle perhaps? The unbroken circle is connected somewhere, I'm sure of it.
Spousal unit and I often laugh about who asked who for marriage. Neither of us can actually remember the time and place when we decided to marry. Back in those days, the early 1970's, people of our generation, she's 54 and I am 58, just got married. Living together wasn't wrong, it just wasn't what we did. Sort of a natural thing to be together. Marriage was something for other folks to see us have, a wedding, legality, the children were not to be bastards, we didn't care then, nor do we care now.
Anyway, we still don't know who asked who. We're together because we want to be, not because of the piece of paper that says we're married. In fact, after getting through many tough and troubling times over the years, things are better than ever these days. Like some kind of resurgence.
Because of this, I asked her if she'd marry me if she had it all to over again. Maybe I need to ask Skinny that question. It would be one for her little book, or the 8-Ball??!!
Hope all is good for you. Been a while.
Peace to all.
Electric....you are so right! And you have to make that soil rich, feed it leftover stories, passed on like telephone tag from generation to generation, till it, mix it with a little of this and a little of that, water it, sometimes with tears, sometimes with joy, and always remember, it's sacred, this little piece of earth our roots are scattered in!
KJ...sometimes I think it's the children that are smart and wise, see everything through kaleidescope eyes, but still in perfect black and white order. We foo-foo it up as we grow, alter it to style, tailor it to need, when really, after all....it's just life.....Yeah, from the eyes of a child, we could see so much we've casually forgotten about..... And you have those giant saucers in your family now....listen carefully as he begins to tell the story in reverse!
Maithri....it's there, for us all to see, the ties that bind us, that bring us together, that make the circle, from souls scattered like good luck salt over God's shoulder and somehow landing in perfect order....just the way it's meant to be. Incredible, isn't it?
Peace, love, and meant to be's, my friends
Mary....if you only knew how badly I wished I could sing, could play a guitar....make music! You just made my day!
Mavin....I'm gonna wander over again this evening, it was so weird....like your whole blog just abruptly fell off a cliff called September! Spooky stuff! Here's hoping its all back in order!:)
Benji....just reading that your friend wrote about her babies toes just brought floods of memories flashing past...They are in such awe of everything, and here we sit, day in and out, bored with a universe that's spectacular....wherever did we go wrong?
Peace~love my friends
karma....Isn't that funny and you are not alone....Fortunately for us, we often forget who was born to and who was fated to this ole clan, our roots are braided leather, long ago blurred together. :)
Enemy....Eric, by fate or chance, is part of the constellation we are just somehow meant to discover. His writings are phenomenal, and here on the porch, he scribbles freely, (And edits furiously to my chagrain...because I love the raw first drafts)....It's just so cool to watch it all take place, unfold....
And as for marriage, well, you see I haven't done it again!:)
spongy....And may the circle be unbroken, and grow, and grow! Clink ya, baby!
Peace~love, my friends
Hey long time no see (my fault entirely). Family trees? I'd like to see that, I always enjoy seeing them. Though I might be jealous, my family tree is small and with very few branches.
PS: I haven't forgotten about our prospective bartering, I just haven't really gotten around to rifling through my storage for good old stuff yet. (It is dank and creepy down in the apartment's basement, like something out of a horror movie.)
Sandy.....:)Honestly, it makes me a little wild in the night, and leaves me with a lingering headache in the morning! But, ahhh, I love the sound of that cork flying, and the bubbles dancing in the glass, the clinking...
karoline...They are the best! They should make prescription glasses "for child-like eyes" and we should all parade around in them to get a better view!
Spado...If I could have guessed your lovestory, it would have been just that way...Perfect! And I don't think you need to ask anyone, any crystall ball if she would do it all again....You already know the answer! We've missed you, man!
Peace~love my friends, and all the stars in the world....
Trevor...It's Halloween, you silly guy, nows the greatest time ever to tip toe down those damp steps, to pull the string to the sole lightbulb swinging at the foot of 'em ......
And dig out those mildewed albums! Rock on my friend!
Insightful and intense…in other words, “fab.”
I'm here, hovering in the back ground.
You still awake, hippie? Or did the dream catcher lay you down for the count?
You had me at constellations...aren't we all connected? World wide web, family trees, and on and on and on.
To you Singy, tinky tink!
I'm breaking out the crystal for tonights round. I want it to sparkle like the night sky!
xo
Gillian
sometimes saintly...So nice to meet ya! I hope you don't mind me roof hopping, and setting a spell!
Eric....Awww, you just made me think of Paddy and his dreamcatcher....I miss that guy! Your postings've been awesome....a little lost blues have done us good, my friend. Clink!
Gillian....Got the crystal? Here it goes.....Clink! (Um, that was my amber colored Mic bottle, but it sounds like......crystal!) And I can hear ya, see ya, feel ya sparklin' from here! Clinkity Tink!
Peace~love and it's one big universe and a really, really small world, my friends
Clink!
Right back at'cha. The ups and downs are all part of this ride.
Thanks for your wonder words.
I see you're on wings tonight, that's so cool, like not watching TV and having no idea what rains will bang on the tinroof in the night, what winds will whip at the shutters, what time the sun will rise if the clocks fall back....Write on, my friend, plaster the walls.....
I loaded up "The Show", and you're telling me I'm the TV god.
You're the prophetic one.
Look in the drafts. She's beautiful...
I'm not going to look in the drafts, I'm standing in the wings....
And from here
behind the velvet
curtains
burgandy and blue
she dances....
all the chairs are empty
favorite ghosts at home in
unclaimed tickets
and she courtsies to
the crowd
dodges make believe roses
is deafened by the applause
of their silent clapping hands
the show must go on
The ghosts were all
pleased
thei howl for
her encore
But the souls at home
missed it--
the greatest show
on heaven or earth
And she looks at me
like a distant future
coming now to pass
standing in the wings
only one more to go
and the night will be
ours;
a gift for all
but mostly
for her and for me.
This stuff is the purest of magics.
Creation--friends--and one never knows what will come next--watch the universe go from white lights to random psychadelic, the stars ate some wavy-gravy, the sky tuns a thousand shades of down to earth blues.
Hah! But the ones at home
were watching
"Here's Johnny"
and laughing
not knowing what they missed
lounging in recliners
drinking tincan beers
and popping
pepcid
Wednesday nights were made
for reruns
or returns
or Thursdays in the wings....
you gotta love those blues!
And God Bless the fact we werent in kindegarten together....we'd have wandered off the face of the earth!
We would've been the too-young space cadet dou!
...duo! (that's what I meant)
Ha!
clink!
uh, yeah, they would've been in the middle of the "lets paint a paper mache apple" lesson plan and we woulda been climbing the tree, carving faces in the green ornaments grown just for us!
And we would've gotten suspended by like the third grade for writing on the walls, and I made it all the way to the 9th grade without thar honor on my own!
the first day of the ninth grade to be truthfully correct!
Yeah, we would never learn not to run with siscors...
And none of the other kids would have paste to eat. We'd use it gluing scribbled stories and torn out pages to the wall that would never come off.
when I was in HS, they didn't mind me skipping. My friends would get in trouble, have letters mailed home, but for whatever reason, I could take any time i wanted off from school.
LOL! And I'd make sculptures with our lunch food and you'd forge letters to the lunchroom ladies about what happened to our food!
Yeah! And we could skip and go to the beach and they'd be glad!
When I had my apartment at seventeen, thats were we would all be--smoking down and jamming with the acustic guitars in my livingroom.
There's a reason kids aren't supposed to have their own place...
That's it!
I used to play my harmonica walking through the halls between classes.
The teachers LOVED THAT let me tell ya!
It was a sweet New-Orelens-Bluesband model with double rows of holes.
It sounded like a dream--in the right hands, anyway. I wasn't very good back then.
Orleans...
Man, I need to spellcheck...
We used to go to Julius' house...
before he keeled over from
THC and Blackberry wine
and everything
divine,
we used to dance in the dark in the middle of the day,
lost for hours,
hours lost,
and then stumble out into the four o'clock sun
alive....
until he didn't
and we all grew up a little
I love a harp....
then and
now
That's sad. You could write a good poem/post from that. I'd love to read it.
I don't know if I could, it only comes back once and a while
to remind me
Jethro Tull
especially
I just got upo and played on the little one I have now. It's not as cool or detailed as the one I had back then, but it sounds nice.
Learning how to breathe and play is the trick. it makes one sound blowing out, and a different one breathing in. That's the secret--but it takes practice to learn. I'm only a little OK with one. But it sounds so nice.
And its an instant fusion
the carefree
peace~love dance
and the funeral procession
Cross-eyed Mary or Aqualung? Or Thick as a Brick, or Bungle in the Jungle.
Tull is awesome. Too bad about your friend. If the memory is ever too strong, do something with it's power.
Wow, we're all jumbled, reading 2 minutes ago comments--but I'm following you.
I'm sorry to stir upsetting memories.
I've always had one. Never played it. Always given it away, and been gifted with another. The last one on my mantel, belonged to my precious friend Nadine, and she passed it to me before she left us. Very shortyly thereafter, our little bro, Chanty, became very ill...and when he regained a little strength, began to smile, I fetched it to him....And the harp plays on....
That's beautiful. Music should go on and on--the sho must...
And that magic harp will take Chanty to another place and time if he plays it.
We're not jumbled, we're in a time warp, but it's cool....
Acqua lung.....
that reminds me the most, but that's a whole nother story...and one I think I've told here before...
Oh, it does, it did, and it will. And I swear, I can't tell you why, I always have one....on the mantle. Just waiting for someone to play....
Yes, your archives are filled with memories and musings.
Glad you became a blogger. I'd still be wandering--and I doubt my poetics would have grown so much. A lot of people like your words and come back for more all the time.
The time warp-harp, waiting for a traveler to pick up and blow the dust out of it's keys...
Of course you'd be wandering, and still you will, we're wandering souls, like SLB, Kimbies, and many more...enchanted with the "round the corner", mesmerized by the wind, lost sometimes in the forest...but we're a circle ever growing....
Peace~love, my friend,
and cheers to the "connect the dots", the Cinderella constellations, the "what is and what is meant to be", the butterfly bar, and all the words spraypainted along the way
I'm still here, but to you, I wish a good night.
"What is and what is meant to be"
That's the words written on an infinite tumble around the circle, inspiration and never ending cycles of this world that goes a little more insane each day, but we keep our corners of it together.
And the best we can do gets better each time.
peace and love.
Night, my poetic, prophetic, wandering friend....
peace~love and your words are the harp on the road, in the backpack, on the mantle, waiting to be played
Real time!
Clink!
This was lovely. Sad, but lovely.
That's beautiful.
ibeati is me the blessed one - I am a new pseudonym seems a little problem, my new home the happy spirits spiritifelici mark it , hug it , love it ciao sandy
but did i have this information at the tip of my tongue YESTERDAY! when that semi-handsome and possibly single man said to me something about an indian summer?
NO!
day late mr squidmann. but this is pretty good..
i'm gonna have to try and recreate the moment now that i'm armed with this righteous knowledge and questionable information
all day, everyone i run into, i'm gonna say,
"shew.. sure is unusually hot today.."
see if they take the bate
then BAM!
"well.. funny you should say that.. because according to my sources.." and this is the part where i write down your blogsite address and hand it over as i'm speaking real intelligently
-you make me feel so smart and sassy
thank you!
happy thursday! ~s.c., ph.d.
singtome -edit that out at will. still adapting to my new laptop. popup windows i don't understand instantly repeating messages/posting .. and it skips right past the word verification and everthing!-zip-blink-posted- i'll catch on eventually
anyway - just brilliant/wonderful/touching as always. and both of my young ones write now, 2nd grade, 5th grade, doing family trees for homework
oh! the many branches, broken branches, fallen leaves and new sprouts
family forest really
precious post.. love, ~s.
Clinkin ya back, Singleton.
Peace....
And thanks about the post. It's an old poem that I breathed new life into. I wrote it back in creative writing three or for years ago.
Some major editing and boom--a poem as good as anything I've ever written.
And she was bright! Defiant, and had fought many battles with inner darkness. And there I was, on the bed writing a poem and looking over at her, in mind and heart and spirit.
Peace...
ultra....awwww, I'm sorry if you saw it as sad....sometimes we find the happiest endings are a gift from chaos....perhaps that is why some sage soul a long time ago coined the word "bittersweet"....
just run....Thank you, so is she, and the tree has grown and grown...
may the constellation never end!
ibeati....I don't know who bumped you off your star, or how or why, but alas, the butterfly effect carries on....already fixed the link, and changed the roadmap, welcome home sweetie...perhaps to where you were always meant to be. Wishing you peace on your new planet!
She...You have me beaming, smiling, jumping words to hang from the next line...Oh, you and that little laptop are gonna have some wild love affair! Peace~love my wise and wonderful friend!
Eric....And there you were, basking in her spirit, soaking it up, her aura filling your pages and your soul....and still there, lingering, sworded, as fresh as then is now. Beautiful!
Peace~love my friends, and new constellations being birthed under the full moon coming
How true your words are--constelations begat myths begat the stories of our lives, past present, future, now and zen.
I think I should do a little flying around on wings... Visit the good folk of the world.
Eric...And on wings, and under moons, the good folks are another world. Enjoy your flight, my friend, fly free
What a beautiufl story. Lucky little girl...and lucky you that you found yourselves entwined and took root!
Children observe so much more than we could ever realize, don't they?
Little girl is not so little anymore. I liked SHE's analogy & thought ours would be much like a tropical rain forest... endangered species sprouting up here & there, flowers growing from the sides of trees where moss grows on the other side...
Clink! The Show will go on!
Real time at the corner bar.
Eric...Open 24 hours real time....and the music drifts....
from dirty parkin' lots
windows open to the breeze
through "Caution...automatic doors"....
on the wind
on the wings
one the very words
of the flashing
neon
sky
Cindra....OMG! We couldn't be more blessed.....gathered in a circle...all of us, by fate or chance, but meant to be....
Princess...and in their poignant speech and scribbles, it's all so simple.....Makes me wonder how we, as "grown-ups" make it so complicated....They're eyes see so much.....:)
SLB....And it is, the river flowing "deep and wide", salt water to fresh to the murky tides in between, sunshine and moonshine
playing mixed blessings ping pong in our sky....And it is paradise, on a good day...And we wouldn't have it any other way!
Peace~love heartstrings to all
I wish I could see that drawing of the family tree.
Orhan....Ahhhh, but you have seen the real family tree and all those little twigs, entertwined by fate or chance to become the "peace" sign so often called SLB....those are from our very roots....
peace~love, my friend
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