Friday, August 10, 2007

Call it Art or Twister

I like to scribble

I like to splash
and I like to spill
it all on the page
on the floor
and we dance in the colors
with dirty little bare-souled feet.

...every time we roll and roll
I remember you that first time
the tail of a fireball slung
under hand into the wind,
earthbound with grave glee
exploding on our canvas
a crash;
twist me
paint me
make me a work of art
dirty feet and all...

Rock, paper, scissors,
I throw it in the fire...
and the flames are
tethered here, beneath us

I sometimes call it art....

You can call it what you will.

by E1313, Singleton, and SLB

Extra special thanks to Singleton and Skinnylittleblonde--two of three vibrant sisters-in-arms, painting the world whatever color they like. They helped with this one BIG TIME, a porch party from a month back, words gathered together in a tapestry that is just amazing. Both of them contributed mighty to these words being here.
See you all about some awards very soon.
Peace out, y'all.


singleton said...

Some days I just love you! Muah! This is one of them! Off to dance on the dusty dirty floor, clink!

Blancodeviosa said...

whee for the art of life. paint it any color you want my friend!

karma lennon said...

Beautiful, beautiful. Keep writing, my friend, every syllable you put down is beauty. All of you guys are amazing, you bring light to the world. :)

david mcmahon said...

G'day Eric, Singleton and SLB,

The more I see of your work, the more I think it is great, creative, vibrant.

Eric, I'm going to add you to my blogroll - but let me know if you're okay with that.

The marks on the feet are early Sanskrit markings - as distinct from the Swastika markings that dominated the 1930s.

Keep smiling


eric1313 said...

Singleton started writing it; I think she is the "I" of this poem--I just slipped into her shoes for a second to write all the rest. We passe lines back and fourth from Florida to Detroit, and Skinny added her part to it. Then I eddited it yesterday, and voilla! A cool poem.

I'm a writer, not a painter! Unless by painting I meant something else subconsciously... I doubt it... Poets don't do that.

Do they? ;)

skinnylittleblonde said...

Eric~ Awwww.... thanks for the plug. I know I am not worthy! YOU are a painter of words, an artist, my dear, making them POP right off the black & white into the world of full color. TY for blessing me with your works!

Rayne said...

oh, eric, this is a classic..

twister = fun

twister with paint = better

twister with paint and some, uh, very creative friends = makes a damn fine weekend ;-)

SpongyBones said...

Now that's two women that I can say add color to a gray world!

Princess Pointful said...

Great first line. It just sets the tone... and makes me long for some crayons.

Side note- why the addition of the extra "1" in your moniker?

Oceanshaman said...

"I remember you that first time
the tail of a fireball slung
under hand into the wind,
earthbound with grave glee
exploding on our canvas"

Nice . . .

eric1313 said...


It's all good. You do so much for the people in your life, easing their pain and helping them through the presession of days to get back to health. And you take care of your sisters like the medicine woman, the shaman of your tribe, easing them through pain and trials and hardship.

Glad to have someone to pass stories back and fourth with like this, a fat blunt at the round table, making the most of it all because that's what we have: Stories and thoughts and ideas and time. And work and then bullshit... It's way better than instant messages. We write poetry. Poetry like clinks of our glasses and bottles at the end of a long day, in Detroit or in the bayous of Florida and Georgia.

eric1313 said...

This was surprisingly untame. I needed legitamacy on it. Thanks for the word.

I'll have to send things out soon, I was letting stuff build up and I have a bunch of good poems to put out. I'm crazy enough to want to get together a giant collection or two or more collections of distinct natures. Have a cool weekend home with the tribe.

eric1313 said...

Thanks for the word of encouragement. This was just a nice stream of poems being written back and fourth put together. It was from one of the porch parties: everyone with drink in hand adding to the words.

The greatest poems and philosophy and visual noise and tunes for eyes and ears. All lined up in no particular order. It's one hell of a writing group.

All of this is, this whole blogging thing. That's how I first approached blogging and have kept it that way, as my excercise in writing everyday, five hundred or a few thousand words, in a meaningfull way, some thought put into each response... It gets long, but it works out. Helps develop narrative voice, I've found. And I never know when a wild idea is going to pop up out of a response, but I run with it.

I love writing.

No problem, I'll link you up too, thanks.

I keep trying to change and get better. This was a distraction and an editing choice. It was easy, basicly. Already done a while ago.

eric1313 said...

No problem, friend. You came up with the best line of all--that last line says so much.

Sing wrote as much of this one as I did. It was fun trying to keep up with her and keep it in her voice and style and perspective. She should post this at 'peace. It's as much hers as mine.

eric1313 said...

This one kept going, there's a million twists and knots and bows in the words we wrote that night.

This was the best part, though.

Thanks for the comment
peace out, Rayne

eric1313 said...


They write some really wild imaginative words, I give them that.

It's Sing who answers back in poems, and it's off to the races from there.

eric1313 said...

Princess Pointful

Sing's a good writer. She wrote that one, she draws and colors the artwork on her blogs, writes the captions that go with them.

Crayons and the pages, coloring between lines. It's some great poetry.

the name? Since 313 was the Detroit area code, and you have to dila one first anyway, it's kind of still the same. Except its now a double negative unlucky number, reversing the effect by personal decree.

Besides, in northern and eastern Europe, as well as in Asia, 13 is a lucky number. I might change it back. It's cool for now. Just thought I'd change it up for a second and see how it worked.

Thanks for the comment and see you soon!

eric1313 said...

Thanks for the shout, that line was one mine--I think! Thanks for dropping in. Peace out

Thanks everyone. Talk to you soon.

skinnylittleblonde said...

You are so beautiful. I thought of you last night a couple times. Once when I noticed the time stamp on my first comment back at my place was 1313 and again when I was watching for the meteor shower...seemingly stars crashing to the ground, but really just nightlights dancing in the sky. I was hoping you would also catch a glimpse!

captain corky said...

Very vibrant Eric! Makes me feel young. Not that I'm old fart or anything! ;)

Blancodeviosa said...

you really need to submit, submit, submit!

the world needs to know of this talent. don't keep it in the shadows forever..

Gillian @ Indigo Blue said...

I thought I already commented here...excellent work, all of you. You guys rock.

david mcmahon said...

G'day Eric,

Love the concept of how you pass words back and forth.

Mate, you're all painters, all three of you, (SLB, Singleton and you). Painters of images and painters of words.

Great work.

Keep smiling


Camplin said...

I love the poem. It describes a great moment of creation. I like to splash and spill as well. I traded painting for poetry once. I think I got the better deal.

singleton said...

camplin...I got the better deal, too! Clink!

maleah said...

It's the dirty feet that get me. Love them.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

I envy people who can toss underhand fireballs

singleton said...

pssssstttt....JSYK, when I got up this morning, my in box read New comments "(13)13".......


Behind Blue Eyes said...

Great job as usual. I really liked the last one. Can't remember if I said that or not.

Edyta said...

i loved this piece.
sometimes our scribles DO become art, sometimes they are left just as junk.
i love the combinatiojn of the pic & the poem itself; maes a good impression.

david mcmahon said...

Great job on the shed-building exercise. Very impressive.