What happens when three skinny hippies....a poet, a philosopher and a painter,
camp out
on the
friday night
porch
drinking beer
and
7 and 7
and
running
barefoot through
each other's world?
They do this........
One scribbles with crayons,
One colors with words,
And one ties it all together....
the
butterfly effect.....
Three Hundred and Sixty Five....
Eric Bachman 2007
every string of hats from dead cowboys
each face painted with a new life;
Some found that old Boot Hill
was all of the
three hundred and sixty five
one night stands...
Every dead cowboy met his match
on that one night
he stood up to you;
my stranger
how many hats
do you own? do you wear?
how many six shooters?
three hundred sixty five
this year to the day
you shoot straight,
somewhere between the eyes
or in the the knees
sparing the heart
or at least sparing the hat--
but always the hat,
so you can paint
it shades of your lifeblood mosaic
and all the many broken but useable
blues
that you learned to sing
when we were all too young
to know where dead cowboys
hang their hats
when its time to say goodnight
with a hope that they've found a home
for one last night
Clink! To peace, love , and porch parties!
22 comments:
How amazing this is. Is this what you mean by prophetic, blue lady? You are welcome to take ideas from any words of mine, ever.
(there's a double 'the' in the last section. It's totally taunting me with it's flipant wrongness and stumble blockiness)
The painting is gorgeous. What a gal with blue green eyes. I was thinking blue green eyes, the colors changing in the prism gleam from within. You are prophetic too. Very much so.
It should be party time any time you all feel up to the glory. I'll be smoking a left handed marlboro in the mean time. Talk more soon, I'll leave the parade on my screen
seriously...
talk about some found art;
finding the words
finding the colors
finding the right soul
for a beautiful girl
born last night in Georgia
from the mustang memories
of dead cowdboys
and their hats
left behind
for you
clink!
Clink, baby!
Whew! What a stubborn post the three of us are, Blogger kept trying to "edit"! SLB and I have been wrangling with Big brother trying to get this up here and at Peace, our way!
peace, love, and what are we gonna do with all those epic left-over lines?
Take 'em and run.....
I will put something together from our lines just hanging there in there own ocean from the walls. Then I'll send you some of the things I wrote from it and you can send Skinny everything, too. But you should also try to put together something from a few lines. No matter what, they are waiting. We shouldn't let them sit too long. I can work great drunk, but lets not over do the party tonight! Not that that was too much at all, but writing wise, I felt like the marathon man. And you ran too. Lets all run with them.
We can write a lot more, and clink everything good in our lives.
--
I need a new post something awful!
Ha! Beautiful sister!
Beautiful Eric!
Clink!
If you were a patron of rock -n-roll
and I were a server of the blues
we would sit at a wobbly table
toes entrenched into the sand
speaking in black and white
listening in full-color
sipping some peace on the rocks
impishly nibbling on the left-overs
clink!clink! You two rock! I'm going to go tie one on with the music-makers tonight! Peace & love!
eric.....
Skinny and I are taking the party to the streets tonight! About 400 miles away from each other, but tinked together by spirit, and trust me, when we raise that bottle to clink! it'll be the only sound heard over the music!
I hear a post coming.....in one tiny little word, embedded in your voice.....
need
Do you hear it knocking?
slb....you rock on, girl!
Turn the page,
climb the stage,
barefeet on the dusty floor,
bottle raised to toast the sky
Singleton
I can't get over how pretty she is close up. You are incredible, lady. My poem still needs patient, subtle editing to stand next to her radiance. She's alive and my poem is not quite there.
btw, the attachement wouldn't open for the word perfect document. But the picture was fine! If I do anything and feel like giving it away, I'll post it to the porch. I know you'll find things to do with it. I want to see you get rich, lady!
clink!
Years I wanted to be there but she didn't want to go out....... Glasses up
Have a great night,
peace abd love and
many dead cowboys
whose hats have a home
clink
Eric....a bottle cap, a chain, words strung together, faces in the dark, three hundred and sixty five.....may the circle be unbroken!
It's so funny, you fine tune, tweak, fix, edit, until it's just perfect, the master of words...I scribble and color and go there! No fixin'. Like it's karmically important that their faces, or their spirits, tote the slip-of-the-pen scars, the accidental tattoos.... And then I let 'em fly, no going back.
Peace~love~the porch light's always on~
annonymous.....well, I hope when your glass was empty, you smiled and had fun wherever you were and whatever you did...
Cheers to that!
Ah Singleton,
Here's to dead cowboys, to poets and to the artists.. clink!
makin' dead cowboys this early?
Michelob will be proud of you!
Clink!
Tink!
i was adopted... maybe you are my real family!! ...ahh.. to dream...
we all need more family!
Singleton&Skinny peace sisterhood
...plus the brothers and vagabond
cowboys not ready to hang anything up on a one night hat stand. None of us are done until the last drop of beer, or the last dime of a world of spare change peace and love that the ladies bring to the table has fallen to the ground and become wild roses.
...because she loves the numbers
and the caps... the way the train rolls an everynight thunder
from the speakers
they
are all welcome to dance once
or three times before the fall
we only climb back on the walls
sit upsidedown on the ceiling
speak with the Lamb about why
everything should be infinity,
or what we love who we love why we love where we love when we love and how
how
to be at peace with your self
when you don't know either one
for face value and what she knows
to be true to her own mirror soul
sleep in the day, everyone
in the world should
up in the high corner, cobweb kingdom
spinning gold into threads
that may one day make
well-loved clothes
for your soul...
and the rest of you
will always be free
...we make more crystaline thread
and our souls won't get cold
being as close as we all are
Damn. I have to go to work soon. Or just an interview. On a sunday/ That's pizza biz. But what a lucrative easy going job.
I once was an appartment maintenance man for five freaking years from 18 to 23--bo shit, they just up and trained me and everything because they needed somenbody! But no matter how many raises I got, or my free apartment, pizza delivery still paid more. I mean, I had the keys to 306 apartments and I made more on the spare change pluss a couple buck tips out of the goodness of people's hearts than from having a real responsibility. That's why I'm in college. I'll rise above. And believe me, what I appreciate most of all is the people who stick with me and are cool right now. That's why you all are so important.
awww, Mindy......half my family is adopted, and we're all real family! May the circle be unbroken!
Eric....
"spinning gold into threads
that may one day make
well-loved clothes
for your soul...
and the rest of you
will always be free"
Clink! Freedom, at face value, is the best we have to hope for! Peace and love will follow. It's a parade, of sorts, you know!
I'm not one for the passion and romance of the Wild West and/or cowboys but that was adorable.
Mornin' Orhan....:) well, we're kinda silly hippies .... dedicating a porch party, a poem, and a drawing,
to dead cowboys, empty bottles, and their hats, bottle caps on the wall!
Cheers!
I LOVE your artwork Sweetie. You are very talented.
TY Dan, we had a great time comin' up with this whole post~poem~drawing~! Gawd, I miss my computer....will stop by to check up on your vacay as soon as I have a real keyboard, a mouse, and a screen larger than a pocket calculator!
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