Monday, November 12, 2007

The Night Is A Thousand Whispered Lines

Listen to our common pulse
music filling the air
an electric canary singing our blues.

Dance until everything
is the same look and same color,
touch and smell and taste.

The night smells of sweet blue candle light,
tastes like a sudden loss of cabin pressure
feels like sweet buttercream

and a new dose of religion.

The night tastes like
a lover of worldly flesh.

The night is a thousand whispered lines
crawling all over our bodies.

One more chance
until the lights after last call--
until the bar-stool delusions of grandeur
turn to pumpkins and mice
with the last drops of their beer.

Like the last time,
like the time before that...

Every morning after the ball
we blame the drinks
the smoke
the lights...

We blame anything but we.

Blame anything--
using up the rest of this
after midnight black magic.

Anything except
the electric canary singing our song,
or day old sangria drunk from a glass shoe.



Princess Pointful said...

So many great images here...
One's senses blending together, how the night tastes, the glass shoe, the transformation into pumpkins and mice...

Nice job, as always.

i beati said...

sensuality reigns - worldly flesh buttercream man oh man

singleton said...

"The night smells of sweet blue candle light,
tastes like a sudden loss of cabin pressure
feels like sweet buttercream

and a new dose of religion."

And that, my friend is drinking from the glass shoe!

Have fun in detroit~your words are Dancin' here!

ann said...

your imagination is amazing...
you play with the words and make them tingle... I feel this should be put to music

maleah said...


I like the way the rhythm of this seems slow at first and then picks up midway through. Or that is how it reads to me. Something about the buildup and then the ending coming quickly. Like so much of life and love... gone a little Cinderella after midnight.


Josie said...

"We blame anything but we."

So true.

Your poetry is wonderful. said...

Recreating the party
Still high.
I miss those nights.

mystic rose said...

the night is a thousand whispers..
of longing and content..

its beautiful!!

benjibopper said...

yowsa, i happen to have a phobia of electric canaries, day old sangria, and especially glass shoes. i couldn't even watch cinderella.

but i love those lively nights.

karma lennon said...

I love the line "we blame anyone but we." Very cool. And very true-I know it is for me anyway! But I do love those nights filled with the "after midnight black magic". had too many of those lately, actually. :)

Got a couple of new things up on Fantastical.

captain corky said...

"Every morning after the ball
we blame the drinks
the smoke
the lights..."

I spent many years blaming time as well. This one speaks to me Eric.

Enemy of the Republic said...

I used to know a man who would write letters with similar words--common pulse, a new dose of religion--he saw the difference between flesh and soul. He understood love. This is good stuff, Eric.

Blancodeviosa said...

Lovely imagery eric. i was certainly there.

RubyShooZ said...

Ooh, beautiful! Some of the lines just leaped out at me and knocked me over.

The end though - I've been clean for over nine years now so I'm so glad that I am not missing that empty feeling, that blaming the world ....

Thank you Eric - I loved this piece. Much love and peace to you today.

~ RS ~

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

For some reason, That last line made me think of a tramp stumbling upon cinderella's footwear and drinking the sweat out of it.

Clearly this was not the point.

I need help

morbidneko said...

shouldn't that "drank" be "drunk" in the final line?

meh, what do i know.

so many images, so little concentration!

don't you prefer the fleshy canary to the mechanical ones?

morbidneko said...

oh yeah -

what i love most about your blog, besides the beautiful poetry and the pix and the colours and the caring comments,

is the fact that when i want to see your page, i have only to type "love" into the url address thingie.

that says it all.

just thought i'd mention that.

Gillian @ Indigo Blue said...

This is so clever yet again...a sudden loss of cabin pressure?
That about sums it up.

drips of paint said...

Yes, remember my years of late night marathon ... of music, dancing and escaping .... it was a waste of sweet blue candle light now I look back ....

once again, your poem is of a differnt kind ...

Gledwood said...

Right I'm not droppin' no charges of vandalism but i like the words. Also those buildings at top look like the kind of place I want my triplex when I'm rich...

singleton said...

clink! real time!

Marissa said...


X. Dell said...

A dream of melding into our fellow man. Nice concept.

I love cityscapes. Especially at night time.

Maithri said...

"Listen to our common pulse,"

Absolutely beautiful my brother,

I love the sensual spirituality in what you write,

Peace and love, M

Princess Pointful said...

Eric- I hope all is well. You leave me all wondering with your lack of presence in this comment sections.
I'm a little lonely with 4 days sans poems ;)

Crashdummie said...

dunno where to start or where to end.... i'm speechless.

"Like the last time,
like the time before that..." ;)

eric1313 said...

I love all of you.

Very much.

Stay gold, My peeps. I'm back and I'm mad as hell.

eric1313 said...

Well, I'm not mad as hell. I'm not mad--angry, that is... ;)

Princess Pointful

Yes, this one is slightly reminiscent of one of the poem over at The Butterfly Bar. But it was my twist on it. I just liked the imagery of drinking Sangria out of a glass slipper. I had to do something with it.


You know it! Only the sweetest will do. I'm so glad you liked it.

Thanks for the reads.


That glass slipper sure does get around, doesn't it?

Dance through the nights and play the piano drunk, like a Bukowski poem.


eric1313 said...


Maybe I should do that. I keep getting that suggestion thrown to me. Maybe I should wise up and listen to the music. Thank you.


Your comment makes so much sense. A slow build up, then it picks up and then at the end it's rushed and hurrying, trying to find a way to get out of the carriage before it turn into a squaty little pumpkin.

Thank you as well.


That line is the truth. Gotta have some truth in ones writing, or it won't work. Blame the pumpkin, the mice, the dogs, the shoe. But not the people making it happen.


Just like that. I miss those days too, so don't feel so bad!

Peace out, y'all.

eric1313 said...

Mystic Rose

It's beautiful to imagine that line. I love it. Makes me breath deep and feel all tingly.


The nights make anything worth it.

Electric canaries are our friends only when singing the songs that drive those nights.

Karma Lennon

I'll be write by. May your midnights never run our of after hour evocations.

Captain Corky

That it does. Time is not always on our sides, no matter what the song tries to tell us.

And neither are mornings after...

eric1313 said...

Enemy of the Republic

Thank you for your comments, Enemy. You too are a life for me. Heck, it's getting tough to single anyone out on that. You guys are all great.


And I'm sure glad to see you here. Was worried. And my thoughts are with you, friend. Take care of that grandmother.

Ruby Shooz

And do I ever understand that myself. I used to think of myself as a party machine. Boy, do I know it. I know it well.

And congrats to you on nine years. I'll bet you've made them the best ones that you could.

Peace and love, to all.

eric1313 said...

Ultra Toast

You don't need help--you just need to write a quick little flash fiction piece about that one. No sweat, but it was awfully close, I think...


Made the change, I thank you...

Canaries can go either way. The electric canary was the speakers playing the music, I think. You don't have to feed them or change their cages and all, so I kind of like the low maintenance machine canary. Unless it's a Sony, then it will die faster than the flesh canary.

And yes, I have noticed that, Neko. I'm seeing so much traffic come into my blog it's insane. And the search parameters work perfectly.

Thanks for the comments, MorbidNeko. Glad to always talk to you.


Yeah, that's my fight club inspired line. Thanks for the reads, my friend.

Peace out.


Yes, there are better ways to spend time with love. Like to spend time making love. That's a whole lot better for us than wasting ourselves and our love.

Thanks for the visit, as always. I'm glad you liked this.

eric1313 said...


If you get the money, you can buy it. It gets old all the time. GM owns it right now, but their thinking about jumping ship in Detroit.


I saw it and it was so good. Your girls are lovely, like always. You are one heck of an artist. My hat is off to you.


And you know exactly what you're talking about. I'll take that opinion and run! Thank you so much. And good luck in your own written endeavors. You won't need it, but I'm, wishing it all the same.

X Dell

It is a great site, the Detroit Renaissance center cuts a memorable figure on the night time sky line.

Yeah, it's not the newest concept, but I love the ideas that I had to work with.


Thank you for that. I love it, too. It's my stock in trade.

And I'm glad you drop by.

Peace and love, my brother.

eric1313 said...


Your concern got me off my butt, so for that I thank you for you sweet, kind efforts. It's nice to have peeps who care.

Thank you--I can't stress that enough.


And you, too. I know you're a busy woman moving up in the world. So I'm just glad to see you, my friend.

An you picked a great line, too. It's not all bad. This poem is a mixed bag. Good and bad, light and shade.

Peace and love and love and peace, y'all.
I'm feeling it. Big time.