The Cast Iron Harlot, Singleton 2007 Outsider Hippie Art

THE CAST IRON HARLOT
Singleton 2007
SOLD


Neon signs
flying by,
blowing in the wind,
toppled over....
roadside crosses
blurred....
daring
us to
go faster
jump the bridge,
crash....

I woke up
with
popcorn in my hair...
and the dream,
nothing more
than
kool-aid stains,
dancing on the
white-white
of innocence
or
foolishness.

Faster, please....

Chapter Book, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

CHAPTER BOOK

(c) Singleton 2007

The pages are wet

Salt soaked

yellowed

and sun bleached

and

there's no ending

or beginning

Faceless people

with

sorry other stories

flip

through the words

taking what they want

and making up

dimestore drama

to fill the

void.

Fate or chance?

You wrote the book.

And the pages didn't really blow away...

you were

just chicken

and tore them out

to make it look that way...

No wonder you're getting lousy reviews.....

Markers, colored pencils, ink and all that hoo-hah on cardstock

In Blue Mascara, Singleton 2007 Outsider Hippie Art

In Blue Mascara
(c) Singleton 2007

"I'll be mad"
I said.
And I'm sorry.

I don't want to rememeber your
flitting, flirting, buy-one-free-get-one-free
eyes that way,
swiping me with
stolen blinks.
Your lips
scrunching
in a knot,
thinking,
your smile,
pink kool-aid just below
your nose,
betwitched.

But I'm mad now,
and

I'm wearing
blue mascara....

Fortune Teller, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

FORTUNE TELLER
(c) Singleton 2007

A carnival at the sea
alive
and
spinning
neon noise
and
all for free
fortunes and
cheap plush toys.....

But you don't see it,
standing there.
Dressed in your success
with life lines
parenthesis
on what once was your smile
and laugh lines
hidden in
your palm,
a souvenier token....
From the fortune teller...

Cheap little thrill rider.....

Wasted, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

WASTED
(c) Singleton 2007

You didn't know
and you
couldn't think
and
it wouldn't have
mattered
if you
did.

You
were just
drifting,
collecting
Friday night beers
and quarters to
call home with.

And last call,
came way to soon
and
midnight lay
like a wet blanket
suffocating
pushing
you
under.

And you made your wish,
if I could have one wish...

"I just want you to love me"

and I laughed at the silly
face you made...

Wasted words, my sweet baby....
You should have wished for
peace...

I would have loved you anyway....

Are you there?, Singleton 2007 outsider art, Bachman 2007 words

The Best of Times
Are You Still There?
Outsider Hippie Chick Art
Goodbyeblackandbluejeans

(C) Singleton 2007 Artwork
(C) Bachman 2007 Poetry

Black and
blue
jean goodbye;
golden she
on the rocks
technicolor glory
saving all the best
for first,
for last..
and between.



Are you out there,
yes, you
butterfly amplifier?

are you on the eleven?
say what?
say what again...

You know only one voice
and it's feeding you
every sweet rumor--

unique names for any
technicolor nightmare
that falls from heaven

It's just drama,
raining
You know her far too well
to let that story toll true
Because it's all poetry,
technicolor dreams
with your own subtitles

Black and blue clouds,
butterflies at eleven--exactly what you said
I remember:
before
she went to the beach
telling stories today
in shadows and light
and her own language
that I only know
a small part of..

she's at eleven,
twelve
and one......

the last,
the first,
the moment time
slips up,
straight up,
on the rocks,

call her name--listen
a wave crashing the sands
to millions of fine dreams;

mermaids
are called these things
as well

Wet Paper, Singleton, 2007, outsider art

Wet Paper
Outsider Hippie Woman Artist
(c) Singleton 2007

She watches
with sultry
drug-store eyes
and feeds
you
every
line
she's
ever memorized from
the jacket of a
Harold Robbin's novel,
and you
go
there...

you
thought for
just a moment,
there was something so familiar
you had to touch
to have
to try to feel again.

But the flowers in her hair
are plastic
and her
words
are
dirty lipstick smudges
on
wet paper....

you're damaged now...

And I'm pale now, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

And I'm pale,
now...
Outsider Hippie Artist Girl
(c) Singleton 2007
SOLD

In
the dream
I was
making charms
from
rattlesnake
bites,
collecting them
like bottlecaps,
souveniers
from
some
poisenous
venomness
place.

In the morning's heavy breath,
I shed my nightime skin,
crawl out from under the covers,
and find,
I'm an opaque,
albino colored
mess....

but the
marks are gone
and
I
saved the rattlers
to make
music with.....

Three Hundred and Sixty Five, 2007, Singleton Outsider Art, Bachman words

THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE
Outsider Hippie Woman Art

Artwork (c) Singleton 2007

Poetry (c) 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 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

Gimme Peace, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

Gimme Peace
Outsider Hippie Female Art
(C) 2007 Singleton

SOLD



Just give me peace
and
you can keep
the change....
.

I'll float...
fudgesicle in a coffee cup...
.

melting....
.
.









Hippie Journals available now
Colored markers, ink, pencils and all that hoo-hah on a rainy day...8 1/2 by 11

The Housekeeper, Singleton, Outsider Art 2007

THE HOUSEKEEPER
Outsider Hippie Woman Art

(c) Singleton 2007

She watches you

....with giant helicopter eyes

Tidy

little package,

secret little life..

neatly folded

laundry....

She dances

under the clothesline....

Between the billowing sheets...

And steals you blind......

Twig Spells, Singleton, Outsider Art

TWIG SPELL
Outsider Hippie Woman Art
(c) Singleton
SOLD

We went there,
laughing,
stumbling,
gathering twigs and rocks and shells...

And lost ourselves...

Wandering
deeper and
deeper into the woods....

Until the only way back
was to follow the
trail of broken
twigs and rocks and shells....

To build a cocoon
from the debris....

Dirty, Singleton 2006, Outsider Art

DIRTY
Outsider Hippie Woman Artist
(c) Singleton 2006

Your dirty little fingers are everywhere,
leaving fingerprints
where no man
has gone before.

But, don't be fooled,
they aren't tatoos
and
like a summer tan,
they fade....
blend....
become part of the past....

We need the beach....


Colored markers, pens, pencils and all that hoo-hah on cardstock, collaged on canvas....

Unfinished, Outside Art, Singleton 2007 1990

UNFINISHED
PRIVATE COLLECTION
Outsider Hippie Woman Art
1990- 2007
(c) Singleton


There was no beginning
and so....
no end...


Colored markers, pens, deja vue and tissue...
paper collage on canvas....
A page ripped from the diary, tattered from the years....

And still....
Unfinished....

Click image to Enlarge

In the Deep Deep Sea..., Singleton, 2007, Outsider Art

In The Deep Deep Sea...
Outsider Hippie Woman Art
(c) Singleton 2007

SOLD

In the deep, deep sea
We played Russian Roulette,
and you gambled with fate...
stuffing your pockets with Christmas tinsel tokens...

If you could cash them in at the corner store,
you'd be a millionaire,
but it's the deep, deep sea...
and when we don't hold on to them for dear life,
they're pulled away....

by the clawing, scratching tide ...

Emptying your blue jeaned pockets...
splashing your soul ...
burying you...
face first
into the sand....

81/2 by 11 cardstock. Colored markers, pencils, pens, soul, and all that hoo hah

The Pusher, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

The Pusher,
Outsider Hippie Woman Artwork
(c) Singleton 2007

SOLD

It's dark
and there's nothing.
I can't breathe,
but I hear butterflies panting, whispering...
and I know you're there...

Waiting....
With the fix.

I'm tainted now.
Torn.
Thorned.
Breathless.

And then it's dark again,
and there's nothing.

Nothing at all but the butterflies
panting, whispering, dancing in the dark.....

8 1/2 by 11 on cardstock. All that colored hoo hah

In the Weeds....., Outsider Art, Singleton 2007

In the Weeds....
Outsider Hippie Woman Art
(c) Singleton 2007

SOLD

Tangled up in the sheets,
the stories,
your eyes...

Running knee high through
the weeds....
Dandelions brushing long legs

We laugh
And I fall asleep
with eyes wide open.....

kicking
at
the covers.....


81/2 by 11 on cardstock. Colored pencils, markers, pens and all that peaceful hoo hah...

Simply Saturday, outsider hippie art, Singleton 2007

(c) Singleton 2007
SIMPLY SATURDAY
Outsider Hippie Woman Art

SOLD

Tattered little wings
strung around my neck,
Feathered Trinkets falling to the ground....

Dancing in the dust
Dancing in the past
Dancing in the old

And it's all new
And I've never been here before
And never seen your face, your eyes, your smile...
Felt your breathe....

But it's the new love
that's the oldest.....

And I've missed you for a million years....

81/2 by 11 on Cardstock...Colored pencils, pens, markers and all that charm....

The Ring, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

THE RING
Outsider Woman Hippie Art
(c) Singleton 2007
SOLD

Imposssible...
This trinket...
accidently lost...
It's owner paying no mind...
When the salty fingers of fate
spider-danced up into the sand
and stole, quickly,
the glittered past...

Impossible...
This trinket...
tumbling slowly...
lazily...
in an oceanic womb
of safeness,
and then
Clink.....
Landing at my toes....

Pencils, ink, markers, my life and all that other hoo-hah on 8 1/2 by 11 cardstock...

And I Can't Breathe, Singleton 2007, Outsider Art

And I Can't Breathe...
Outsider Hippie Woman Artwork
(c) Singleton 2007

SOLD to the Keeper of My Stories

It's quicksand
and
we're running in place,
digging our toes in deeper,
drowning....

And I can't breathe,
There isn't any air...

The quicksand,
wet and thick and
somehow alive,
swallowing our footsteps...
erasing our past...
Making us impossible to find...

Colored Pencils, Markers, Ink and all that hoo-hah on 8 1/2 by 11 cardstock