Apr 23
ANOTHER SLEEPING BEAUTY
I’ve always felt I existed in a fairy tale; not that mine was a classic, but it has been woven in and out of centuries.
It is a telling. It is when one must pay attention to the B side of a coin. When the song that isn’t heard on a recording but comes from within from a place you cannot imagine, it is the one that touches your heart. It is a place that is within time; it is the path you want to take through a dark wood when your nature is calling but you decide to take a cab.
Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen. The king was a factory worker at the steel mill; and the queen took in ironing until she found herself about to give birth to their second child. The first was a boy but that’s a different story. This was a blessed event even though this child was fated to be exiled from his true home.
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Apr 23
REBIRTH: DEATH OF A GODDESS
So what does one say to oneself after a failed suicide attempt? I was having a bad hair day and I thought mixing several medications with my Vanilla Cherry might put me in a better state of mind.
“I don’t want to do this,” I could hear myself screaming.
Another part of me replies, “This part of me, this Frankenstein creature that I’ve allowed others to make cannot continue. I am not this creature. I don’t want to be what everyone thinks I should be.”
What trigger this moment?
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Apr 23
LIGHT IN DARK PLACES
Reno looked into his wine glass. Sometimes if he stared long enough, he would see images and faces that would rise and fall into other faces. Sometimes if he listened closely, the faces would speak, or a place would open up and he would witness another of his many lives.
Memory flashing through: “Sold to the highest bidder,” said the Dreamseller.
The Soul became a reptilian goddess as a voice whispered to its mind, “Change the story by overlaying a new pattern to help create a new Earth.”
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Apr 23
FALLEN ANGEL
BLACK ROOTS MONOLOGUE ON STAGE TO AN AUDIENCE OF ROACHES: It is the end of the twelfth beginning as the thirteenth one arises. I have thoughts like this when I’m sitting a bar and I’m having my fifth beer. I had a vision in between waiting on the bartender to bring me another beer, I saw the angels in Heaven descending into Hell and the Demons in Hell ascending to Heaven to become the new angels because the Angels had become to dark, too bestial in their folly.
And Death keeps adding new faces onto an old face.
I can smell death from people walking by. People have become abodes for ancient deities. They hold these phantom wraiths that move people around like mechanical toys. People’s daily rituals do not inspire resurrection from the mind of The Dead Dreamers. Their need to caress the dead has emptied humans of their mind and turning their spiritual fire into an ember; and they cannot find a Beloved to breathe upon that dying flame.
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Apr 23
EXODUS: THEATER OF THE VOICE
There is a secret in my death dramas - within them is the Voice which became the Light, then physical manifestations - plants, birds, animals, water, rocks, humaniods -and now within these fallen forms is the seed of life - my Voice. Of course, I am not aware of this until I am in-between a collection of moments which to me are like eyes. That phrase - eyes are windows to the soul - well, they could also be doorways. Walking into someone’s eyes, looking out of someone’s eyes. Is this what life and death is? Depending on your intoxication to physical senses, it could be Heaven or Hell. Segueing from one emotion to another, it seems in these eye dramas I unfold either as an actor, a director, a writer, or an audience member. My eye must become a phoenix.
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Apr 23
CAPTIVE DREAM
The Soul too the Ari An, a reptilian race, was a winged creature whose wings were now clipped thanks to their DNA manipulation.
The measure of their new fallen enemy had not been determined. Through the works of their scientists and geneticists, they found the market value of the Soul had far ranging implications. Souls would become a tool for the Ari An Empire to stretch their territorial authority beyond its current borders. They found that the Soul’s essence could be fragmented and placed inside physical containment that could animate inanimate constructs and provided a new work force for the Ari An Empire.
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Apr 23
BLACK ROOT
Spotlight comes upon a Roach standing center stage holding a microphone. He waves to the audience of creatures and insects to be quiet. He speaks. “Café Bardo proudly presents Black Root in his never ending Starseed performance art piece, “The Dark Diva.”
The audience applauds as the Roach steps out of the spotlight and Black Root enters. He is dressed in a long black coat with sliver buttons, a long black skirt with a split in the center revealing that he is wearing leather pants and boots. His skin is a dark chestnut brown, his shoulder-length black hair snakes about his head as if it is living. The hair gives the impression of being electrical also as if lightning is striking when he moves his head suddenly. His eyes are slightly slanted and the color of coal. Even the audience is not reflected in his eyes. His voice is melodic though there are moments you feel like it could scratch at your inside if you were a heckler. His stance seems to grow as he continues to speak.
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