Monday, October 13, 2008

God is a yellow lion

God is a yellow lion and he speaks in fortune cookies.

i see him in those electric billboards- the ones with burnt out bulbs on 17% of its mass. i guess he's on the regular ones too but it doesn't seem so wizard of Oz-ish that way.

and every so often i hear him in a pirate punks or a lucero song.

But more often than not it's walking up those grassy hills when he pounces out of nowhere with blood on his claws and teeth. bright shining yellow like playdough and chick fuz. radiant and stiff. and his amazon paws that knock my breath out as he jumps on my chest, the tips of his nails leaving marks on my skin. and i'm left, facing skyward with whitenoise and static. slipping in and out and still, all this time, not breathing. with a blow to my face that cracks and pops in my ear i gasp and lay limp and soiled in the grass. not afraid anymore but worn and used and broken and damaged and torn and ripped. and ripe for love. and ripe for hope.

a beach comb

The tractor spits and rattles forward. Yoked and chained with replaceable subway grids. Santa Monica's single attempt to "recycle, reuse, reduce". With slow stoutheartedness it smooths the stubborn cowlicks of sand. The beach, once defiantly tousled and windblown now resembles more a boy, with a short-sleeved collard shirt and a belt. Hair tightly greased and slicked over to one side, sitting courteously beside his sister in the car, hands folded in his lap on the way to Sunday School.

Two homeless men lay sprawled, passed out from last nights quenching of hard earned looting. Unconcerned of the world, of the beady eyed orange-ish monster looming on, fixed in his path. A freight train with steady endurance, committed to his abstruse track of broken down rocks and glass. As it approaches, whumping, clanging, cracking, the two men lay recklessly indifferent. Heedless to the unquestionable misfortune.

The tractor swerves last second and continues.
A perfectly groomed sandy beach except for two homeless men---two rocks in a zen garden.

Easter at the Crystal Cathedral

This sunday with my aunt and uncle in from florida, my family decided we should try out a new "easter experience". We drove down the I5 and pulled into a parking lot where men in pastel shirts ushered us into parking spots with the giant orange light sticks that are used when airplanes taxi. Once out of the car, we hurried to get a good place in line. My dad forgot to pick up a ticket for me, I was a little nervous that they wouldnt let me in without one, but it turns out there was no need to fret, my aunt had an extra one. The hot sun beat down on us from every angle and off of the reflections from the newly washed and mylared walls of the cathedral that we wrapped around. As the doors opened, my aunt grabbed my hand and raced to the front.

Horrified I looked to the ceiling, it was glass, the walls, glass. We were in a giant crystal ball. I mean, it made sense, it was called the Crystal Catherdral, but honestly!? No relief from the sun? This was torture for a fair skinned vampire like myself. I kept my sunglasses on and just decided to not look at the pulpit, (there was a glare there). There was a pyramid of flowers from the center of the room to the top of the stage with a beautiful flower cross hung from cables above. There were flowers upon flowers, piled up to the balcony. on the ridges, turets, banisters, everywhere there was space, there were flowers, pink, white yellow and palm trees. The cathedral was filled with the scent of lilys and hydrengas and roses. And as the pipe organ played, you could feel the vibrations all around you and at the songs climax part of the walls split open magnificently to display dancing fountains and the wind swept in and swirled the scents around. And Christ has risen. Amen. It was beautiful and I almost teared up except for the camera men on cranes that voyeristically caught every emotion on the audiences face. And then I would snap out of the moment and think, I wonder if grandma will recognize me on TV? A man who resembeld a hedgehog brought out the orchestra. He didnt look like a hedgehog in a bad way, just a hard working, driven by duty, self important looking man. A sense of purpose and perhaps a tuxedo just a smidgen too tight.

The orchestra was huge and glorious, but on the third song right in the middle, the wind swept in again, and I felt its magic, but some of the pots of flowers toppled down from the balcony, luckily not hitting anyone. There were a few "Uhhs!" from the audience but everyone turned their attention back on the music. Another gust blew in and more flowers and trees this time fell over and crashed down onto the first level. The wind was not done yet. The third time , the wind howled in, the easter liliys came crashing down onto the tympony and drum kit below the microphones waivered and tipped over, the palm trees toppled one after the other onto the pulit. The gerbes and gyeranieum petals dissapating in the air. The cross hanging from the wires swung precariously back and forth, over the congregation threatening certain death for and extra bad sinner. The music from the cellos and piano flew from the stands and danced across the stage. Some of the music got caught on the violinist bows or flew over heads, and messed up the womens hair. We were half way through the song and now no one had their music in front of them, how will they go on!? The man playing the bass drum and cymols was the last to lose his music and when he did, a spritely smile fleeted briefly across his face and he picked up the cymbols and just started banging them together like an ancient alarm system. "Catastrophe! Catasterophe! All hells broke loose! Pick a note and just play it like its the last thing you'll do!" The little hedgehog man became frantic and ran around in a panic threw his arms up "Close the doors! Close the doors!" but with the cymbols blasting and the piano clanking and clashing and the strings and brass blaring, pots smashing to the floor, the wind still bursting forth and still that heavenly smell and light from every was the stones shouting out. Jesus Christ has risen today.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

i hate everything right now

i hate comming home from vacations.
i hate feeling obligated to complete strangers.
i hate car salesmen.
acutally, i hate most salesmen.
i hate debt accrued on vacation.
i hate not seeing my dog.
i hate not seeing someone i love very much.