Lord Cellu

I know this is a touchy issue for some. I mean no offense. But this would seem to hold the potential to work as a great insight as to where I go in my head a lot of the time. It’s a lot of fun in there…

Messenger: Lord Cellu, the humans love the new world you’ve created for them, but are horrified by your appearance.
Lord Cellu: Yes, it is good that they fear me. Better that than they learn the horrible truth of their past with “The Pimp”.
Messenger: Of course, Lord Cellu. The Pimp’s “pimples” were a horrible plague on the human race. And your gift of Noxzema gives them great comfort. Still, the last three humans to witness your true form suffered myocardial infarctions.
Lord Cellu: Perhaps I’ve made my appearance to them too disturbing. They must be desensitized to my appearance.
Messenger: But Lord Cellu, couldn’t you just change your…”
Lord Cellu: Enough! I will desensitize them by imprinting my image on women’s legs and bottoms. Women’s legs and bottoms are some of the most beautiful things on Earth. If they carry my image, then humans will love the way I look to them.
Messenger: But Lord Cellu, wouldn’t the site of you on women’s legs and bottoms kill anyone who looked at it.
Lord Cellu: You are right, Messenger. We will need to lessen the shock by imprinting a similar, less horrifying image, a sort of “Cellu light”.

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What Makes Me Happy

Warm coffee on a cold day
Standing in the summer rain
A smile on my nephew’s face
The knowledge that these things are gifts
The memory of my father’s abuse
The exes that reach through time to correct me
The pain that comes from being alive
The knowledge that these things are gifts
Skin and blood and bone and meat
Perfectly flawed
I am perfectly me
And while nothing could ever make me smile
I find inspiration to Be happy in these things

Dream 10.30.18

School setting. Maybe 30 of us in this room. We sit at desks. Our heads protrude from sheet-covered bodies. I reach out my hand and, through her sheet, wrap my finger around her’s. She squeezes tightly. Quickly, excitedly, we both search for the edge of her sheet, aching for skin to touch skin. We find the edge and our fingers interlock. Now we are laying. The bow of her neck rests on my wrist, our fingers still interlocked, now on the other side of her head as she faces me. I awake and feel her jerked away from me. The memory fades. Where ambiguity worked in my dream, I begin trying to fill in the holes. What color was her hair? And that face, where did it go? I suppose I treated myself this morning. I know I want this, although I don’t know where to find it. Then again, had we slept? Were we going to sleep? The thought that I must return to my sleep, to that state that had me angry with everyone and everything, that perspective of division, in order to see eye to eye with someone on this level. Still, I like to envision that our classmates, the world, may sleep as we skip nap-time. How could we be bored or lonely when we have each other?

Another Person’s Perspective

A friend/co-worker recently took it upon him/herself to correct my perspective of a certain medical miracle. I’m using vague laguage here in an attempt to not call him/her out directly. I cannot say for certain he/she was the one who was misinformed, but I am fairly confident in my understanding of the issue. Instead of arguing with him/her or attempting to correct him/her, I let him/her find joy in the fact that he/she could correct me, even as I have reason to believe he/she was misinformed. Another person’s perspective cannot define mine. I was confident enough in myown perception of the issue that I could let him/her continue to hold his/her perspective unopposed. Imagine if we could do this on a grander scale. You are a Christian and you are a Muslim and you are an Atheist. And the fact that we see the world differently doesn’t have to inspire us to fight. Perhaps it is a lack of confidence in our own perspectives that inspires fighting. I suppose, if we were truly secure in our own beliefs, it wouldn’t matter what others thought of them.

Trading Water for Poison

And the Aliusterans line up to trade water for poison. And they drink it until it has numbed the pain that living in Aliustera causes. They don’t think to remove the causes of the pain. Life in Aliustera is painful. This is just how it is. They wouldn’t know where to begin. Those few Aliusterans who don’t drink the poison are veiwed as somehow deficient: “Does he have a poison problem?… Why doesn’t he drink the poison?” And drinking the poison may be enjoyable for a time. It helps Aliusterans to temporarily forget their pain. It pacifies, sometimes until the next morning. Like a tourniquet, the poison holds back the pain for some time. Then, as though releasing it all at once, the pain floods the individual’s perception of the world. The Aliusteran’s body rejects the poison, often spewing it with anything that had been consumed during a window surrounding the imbibement of the poison. But it is means to release. The act is means to a sort of temporary vacation during which Aliusterans may feel entitled to act without regard for their responsibilities. The poison works as a scapegoat: “It wasn’t me. It was the poison.” This is the true draw of drinking poison, the social permission to act irresponsibly. This is the real trade for Aliusteran’s water and even the sickness that follows.

I Am I Am

Today I am a marble in a big blue pool.
I am perfectly me. I am perfectly you.
I am perfectly we as we sing together.
I am perfectly always and simply forever.
I am I am
I am I am
Muscle and bone are not my own.
They are just a body that I call home.
And we are lovers. We love together.
We are perfectly always and simply forever.
We are I am
I am I am
In a world blinded by greed and division.
We are exactly where we need to be.
Pain insulated by the television.
They don’t see the power in we.
They are I am
We are I am
I am I am
Today I am a marble in a big blue pool.
I am perfectly me. I am perfectly you.
I am perfectly we as we sing together.
I am perfectly always and simply forever.
I am I am

A Nap After the War

She fits like a missing word in an ancient acronym
We always knew what she looked like, but never understood her beauty
And now that we’ve found her, now that her part is perfectly seen
We were teenagers together and we compare scars
The war is behind us, the machine is dead
Battle wounds that took up residence in our noses are replaced with nectar
The memory of this pain only makes the present taste that much sweeter
Neck tar nectar red bird feather smoke of never we slumber together
Milk on wounds
Familiar dream
Mother of my child
We sleep
The hours of ours
We’ve all the time in the world
Holding her bare form next to mine
Even this is not close enough
Awake for the first time
We revel in our sleep
Eyes open for the first time
We share this warm bed

Bigger Than These Bodies

I found this light inside of me
I want to share it with you
You can’t see it if you wont believe
I hope you can feel it too
My empathy has made me blind
Made me forget how to shine
But look inside and I think you’ll find
We are bigger than these bodies
Following a line of zombies
Looking for brains all around
I lost it for a little while
It was waiting inside to be found
My empathy believed this lie
Made me forget how to stay high
I now remember how to fly
We are bigger than these bodies
I wanted to meet you where you were, because you refused to come up to me. Because you believe there was nothing there. But baby, I’m back on top; And I can see for miles.

Electric Stone

Salt to the earth
Salt of the earth
Salt, by earth
Perfect
Ancient
And love
Human
You man
Bleeding life
Seeds into the air
Flowers everywhere
Pieces of peace
And we ease
These eager chessnuts
Pawns and kings
So much potential
Eventual
Mental
Flesh and bone
As old as stone
But we are I are me
Shadow of what we could be
Open your eyes and sing
Open your eyes and breath life into the sky
A bang sends the herd over a cliff
And we will perfectly fall
And perfectly choose
And perfectly refuse
Welcome pain
Welcome milk
Mother
Father
Sister
Brother
Perfect
Ancient
And love
Absolute contrarianism
Perfectly as one
And the flock turns in unity
To the sky
The mind’s eye
Older and more powerful than new eyes can see
Electric stone
Claim it as us
Claim it as our own
No fear
Sidways we see
Perfect pain
Perfect love
Perfect us
Perfect we
Perfect I
Perfect me