From the Horse's Mouth

A Tree, A Temple, A House

Posted in Dreams by theskinhorse on March 3, 2009

I walked into a world that shifted at every blink. The way the light hit each object created a prism of reality reflected back. Each scene was of ruin, debri, decay, decomposition, forgotten lands, fallen idols, broken dreams, lost keepsakes and the unborn. What was identifiable to me:

An old woman by a huge, gnarled, dark tree. Her hair was silver-white, floating strands that seemed to be always obscuring her face. She sat at the base of the tree. Sometimes I walked within the tree, through abandoned tree houses and faery dwellings. In the darkness, I could make out vague impressions that resembled memories from childhood stories and the homes of  fantastical creatures. Did the woman speak to me? I can’t seem to remember.  …Shift…

Temple ruins. The scene, cast in gold light, seemed all too eerily quiet. Statues and walls were in pieces on the ground, worn and rolled over. The most intact stone piece was a statue that I could make out to be Lucifer. It stood proudly in the center of the weathered temple. I walked alone silently. …Shift…

A composite image of all my dream houses. Sometimes I was in recognizable areas of earthly houses molded crudely by dreamwarps. There were hallways that once held my doom. Ceilings that I couldn’t reach stretched higher into the sky. Old apartments that I once inhabited disintegrated before my eyes. There were places I once called home, refuge, prison, or an arena. I saw places we met before to talk or explore, to dream or die, to sleep or celebrate. …Shift…

Tree… Temple… House… Temple… House… Tree… and on it went.

In the Temple, staring at Lucifer through gold rays, I was given a cartoon to watch.

I remember feeling heat as I saw a cartoon of a few of the apostles walking through temples with Jesus. In this cartoon world, Jesus and the apostles were greeted by 3-5 townspeople that had no clue whom the men were. They all stopped and made some small talk. The apostles started to talk of how Jesus was very important and would later gain many followers. This interested the townspeople. They had a business that was involved in sculpture, casting and/or statue making. They asked to cast him. (Very Holy Mountain)

Jesus huddled with his apostles to discuss. Judas obviously loved the idea, as his eyes got wide and cartoonish symbols flipped through them like a slot machine. Jesus laughed about it and refused. “It is obvious that these people know not who I am,” Jesus said. “Judas, why don’t you get cast in my place? Tell them you are me; they will never know the difference.”

So… they cast Judas as Jesus.

I was back in the temple, looking at Lucifer; his shadow cast toward me with the red sun hanging in the background.

I was back in the House, falling through my memories and visions.

I was back at the tree, sitting face-to-face, sometimes nose-to-nose, with the old woman; her eyes seemed clouded over but serene.

“Machine in the Ghost” by The Faint

there’s no ghost in this machine
i make my own mistakes
we seem like skeletons with bone head beliefs
history’s been crucified
humans supernaturalized
we hope we’re not alone
exploded stars and space debris
taught itself to make some things like us
was that all?
what was there before the bang?
how did nothing come to end at once?

let’s ask the atheists, the astronauts,
the mystics of the amazon,
the priests, the cults, the witches, the pope,
the crystal ball, the fear of god,
the tarot cards, the dowsing rod
theologians, alchemists, black magicians, physicists say, know,
say, “we don’t know”

cults arise from ego
sick with poltergeists and demons

tune your TV to the snow
watch the first thing ever known – it’s always on
when nothing’s over what was there?
how did nothing come to end at once?

let’s ask the atheists
let’s ask the astronauts
let’s ask the priests, the cults, the witches, the pope,
dice, the monks, shaman, the nuns,
buddha, the holy ghost, satanists, the philosophes,
meditators, pyramids, mathematicians, acid heads,
theologians, alchemists, black magicians, physicists say, know,
say, “we don’t know”

cults arise from egos
sick with poltergeists and demons

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