wait for the china to pile before i do the dishes
wait for the china to pile before i do the dishes
by cerebella
earthworms & their little intestinal hideouts.
this is the place where brave spirits go to
seek out solitude.
they sleep together, three quarters of the year
three fourths
they guide
the underground creatures
to their next meditation retreat
with little things lighting up; firefly sounds, perennial colours
om!
om
ommmmmmmmmmmmmmm
this particularly untamed & naive girliness
squeals first at the pinkish window-glisten
summertime offers
on her first day of the rest of her life.
it’s like drinking a dream lemonade, one you
could never taste again and you’ll long for it-
-then when you’re dying you’ll hope for it in
the afterlife;
fear not, that type of love can be found anywhere.
next, the pecking order enters:
when i drown out those birds with
the bedtime story of teenagehood hypnotising the
head-
or apparatus i forget exist-
squeamish eye twins peering around at mumblers nature&blessings-
‘we’ve got an introverted swing
sitting leg dangler on our hands.’
a bowl full of naked cheerio shapes. like belly buttons or nipples;
several pockets half filled with creaking bunny ears:
vivaciously present like mermaid tail,
or soundless bubbles gathered around ankles-
like the drifting halo of starlight &foiled yams
chanting around my face. i gaze over this crowd on my tippy toes.
skirt around the ancient concrete, barefoot-
a toe caught in the acorn top.
a rust petal clinged to the dismembering anchor chain,
spying on the ocean traffic,
on the lookout for nothing.
“it’s like drinking a dream lemonade, one you
could never taste again and you’ll long for it-
-then when you’re dying you’ll hope for it in
the afterlife”
This is basically the summation of all my hopes for any solace in the afterlife. Not in the way that I hope an afterlife will be generally pleasant or nice, but that it will match the bliss and beauty of what I’ve seen, albeit rarely, in my own dreams which remind me of yours AND which I haven’t seen on earth so I don’t know where they’re really coming from.
But. What left me a bit depressed was the line that followed: “fear not, that type of love can be found anywhere.”
By ‘anywhere’ do you mean anywhere within this place of solitude? fine, but I can’t access this place of solitude 3/4 of the year. It’s more like a handful of hours every year, with my nightmares and bad things on earth greatly outweighing the friendlier stuff.
I’m only arguing so much because I feel this piece. I feel that it’s real to you and that you’ve felt it and it’s hard to relay how real it is to other people. So if this were only meant to be a pleasant fantasy, I feel a bit betrayed because I’m going to sound like a jackass and to me it’s more hopeful than accurate, without acknowledging horror to some degree which for me is always a valid presence. I just think you hit on something important there with the dream lemonade line and that you could have explored it a little better to tie it into reality more closely. I thank you for sharing.
screw reality! gross! i think it was keith haring that said if you want reality look out your kitchen window. or…actually, it wasn’t him but it was another artist from the same pop period…whoevah…eeee. well i have a horror reality too, coinkidinktally. that’s what dreaming is for. but what helps about reality when it’s inevitable is i can look out that same window and see all the plants swaying, the wind blowing newspaper and stuff around…&that harmonious nature cuddles my heart. that’s what i mint about that love you can find anywhere.
oh ps thnx for the feeling comment. really cool!
well, then. it appears it’s raining ampersands. &HALLELUJIAH&
tell me about a nitemare. i had one recently where i dangled my dog off the brooklyn bridge and he slipped out of his harness and went flying. i’m his number one fan hence i woke up crying. oops.
Ah well the scariest one I’ve had I was hanging on a meat hook in a dungeon in hell and the meat hook was going into my heart and I actually felt the pain in the dream, which I didn’t think was right at all. And so this guy walking in the dungeon says you have to do things right or your going to end up back here. When I woke up I thought I was going to have a heart attack. That one blew.
So, I think that kind of shit holds as much sway as the blissful dreams in regard to my suspicions that one or the other is going to show up in an afterlife if one exists. Maybe the existence of the nightmares hinders my ability to find what you find in such meditations. Maybe you get hopped up on kittens and rainbows like it’s nobody’s business or… maybe I oughta go out back and follow some of them earthworms!
well of course i get hopped up on bunnies and company. what better choice do i have? i also read a lot. read some deepak choprah. i’ve had the sense of feeling before too in a dream &nobody believes me. have you ever had an incubus attack before? i’m awake at seven something am on h&h because i suck at sleep.
i also think i’m beautiful, i think you’re beautiful &i think the idea of getting eaten alive by a furry evil clown that smells like smoking banana peels makes me giddy. what better choice do i have? i love exercising that right. i want to make love to david lynch when i grow up.
I know. they think we’re full of shit. Never an incubus attack. I admire you.
wow swell! i’m flattered!