The Great Easter Rave of Jerusalem

The tags started appearing Friday morning
Painted on the wall of the temple
Randomly splashed on buildings all around the city

"Joe's garden - sundown"

Not everyone knew what it meant
But some did

And after the clouds gathered
For the last living breath of Jesus
After he was taken down
Put into the burial mound
With it's rock solidly rolled before the door

Sun setting over the olive trees
People set out by twos and threes
Some lugging boxes
A few with wagons laden with covered goods
All to meet outside the tomb in the garden

Later that evening
After the sun set
A strange beat was heard over the city

THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP......THUMP

Powerful and rhythmic
Even shaking Pilate's wine cup next to his bed

THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP......THUMP

In the pretty garden oasis
All around the tomb of Jesus
The apostles and believers from the city
Who had seen the tags and followed their feet
All gyrated and bounced
Dropping acid and popping pills to the beat

THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP......THUMP

Laser lights and strobes called out
In all their light energy
Neon wands and necklaces were passed out
Adding to the flurry of activity
Making this a time for the ages
The Great Rave of Jerusalem

It kept right on going
With DJ following DJ
The swap happening without a drop in pace

Sometimes people slept
Other times they ate
Occasionally they'd fuck
A celebration of life and each other
Awe writ large on every face

After it felt like this just couldn't go on any longer
And the Sunday sun began to rise
A miracle did occur
And right along with it
Came Jesus to amaze and surprise

Rising up right out of the tomb
In the middle of a breakdown
The DJ on duty handed it off
Without skipping a beat
And Jesus picked it up
Standing in a spotlight
Surrounded by turntables and laptops

Letting his platform rise until it hit the stops
Jesus put his hands up
And let his words drop

"These beats are for my freaks!"

As he spoke he sprouted more arms
One for every keyboard and turntable
That surrounded him in a circle
Gyrating his hips to the beat
His halo at a jaunty angle

Jesus rocked the house just like the son of god
Durga-ing the music in multi limbed fury

THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP......THUMP

"This is The Great Easter Rave of Jerusalem
And it's just getting started!

The crowd responded with a roar of approval
Hands up in he air
Moving their bodies to the Jesus beat
Like they just don't care

THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP......THUMP

(Happy Easter!)

Ballerinas and Buffalos

John's hair splayed out on his pillow
As he dreamed

Of lacing up his pointe shoes tightly
Stretching his muscles out
Opening the door and setting out
Westward ho!

Dancing down the cobbled streets
Waving to his friends
Stopping to meet and greet
Gaining a few followers
Who likewise laced up their shoes to feet
Before setting off again
A group now fifteen dancers strong
Across the city
Past the statue of the founders
In the city square
With it's fluttering flag and war memorial
Saluting their sacrifice as a united throng

Passing the city limits sign
It's population numbers now wrong
To the tune of twenty two
As forty four feet
And two hundred and twenty toes
Danced and flexed in formation
Sometimes in one column
Other times making separate rows

Music coming from nowhere
Always accompanied the troupe
As they improvised
In time with the music
As their imaginations advised

Every little town they danced through
Sometimes following roads
Other times not
Twirling and leaping over the grass and flowers
As one
In pairs
In threes
More dancers joined them
As more heard the music
And felt their feet stir
Shucking their shoes and boots
Feeling the urge to go
Revisit their nomadic tribal roots

Dancing across the prairie now
Three hundred and sixteen danseur and danseuse
Lifting and tossing one another over obstacles
With grace and strength
Toes pointed
Legs flexed
In formations of various shape and length

All coming to a halt between two hills
Face to face with a buffalo herd

John stepped lightly to the head of the phalanx
Eye to eye with the first buffalo
Bowing slowly and rising into position five
Hands gracefully over his head
Pirouetting lightly
Catching the buffalo's eye
As it too started to sway with the unseen music

John and the buffalo began to dance in tandem
Mirroring one another after a fashion
In this dance so unlike the other
This addition of bovine quadrupededness
Of hooves dancing on edge in the dirt
Heads of enormous size
Horns coming dangerously close
Sparkling wild buffalo eyes

With a crescendo the entire herd joined in
Along with all the two legged dancers
An explosion of movement
Creating it's own shock wave
Rippling across the tops of the chest high grass
In concentric circles from the group
Now moving as one coordinated performance
Continuing on West
Towards the future
And the end of John's dream
Maybe reaching a destination at last
Leaving him wondering what it could all mean

To twirl and stomp
To toss and shake
Dancing it's way onward
The moving performance the end in itself

And so goes our tale of ballerinas and buffalos
Tall tales of the tall grass
Flights of fancy in the flatlands
Tacking with the winds
In diagonal lines
All signs pointing Westerly
Following the old dreams
From sea to shining sea

Good Friday Been Good To Me

Sun setting and my hand in yours
Good Friday been good to me
Since that year so long ago
That I spent out at sea

Chasing the sea turtle
Watching them mate
Tracking migrations
Some early some late

Upon the decks of the sloop Shell Maiden
I watched every sunset
Wearing grooves in the wood
Observing and taking notes
Doing science as science should

After a year had gone by
And I'd visited many beaches
Covered nautical miles by the gross
I turned in my work and rested
Thinking that I may have learned the most

Of myself a ship and the sea
All individual vessels
Holding various things both within and without
Some things unneeded
Others precious indeed

And on that Good Friday
The day I returned from the sea
I found the puzzle piece
That finally completed me

The day that I met you my love
Made that day a Good Friday
And on every Friday since
I can reflect on how Good Friday been good to me

The Miracle of The Easter Eggs

And so it came to pass
That in the Year of Our Lord 33 Ano Domini
Jesus, who preferred his name to be pronounced as "Hey-soos"
Hung upon the cross above Jerusalem
In great pain
With a cruel crown of thorns upon his head
Piercing his brown skin
Small rivulets of blood streaking his face
Marking him as the King of Jews

After crying out to his father
And anyone else who would listen
His head slumped forward
Beard pressed into his chest
Dead

The Roman soldiers on duty remarked upon this
And one with a spear approached to make sure he was dead
For you are not removed from the cross until you are

Planting his leather sandals in the rocky dirt of the hill
He thrust his strong arms upward
The spear firm in his grip
It's sharp head piercing Jesus' side
Below the ribcage

Removing the spear
The Roman soldier jumped back in shock and awe
As a waterfall of color poured forth from the torn side of Jesus
Hundreds of medium sized eggs tumbled to the ground
With all the colors of the rainbow marking their shells
In numerous and interesting patterns
Not the least miraculous part
Being that none of them cracked

Jesus' followers gathered all the eggs in baskets
Removing themselves from the area as soon as they could take no more
Until only a few women were left
To receive Jesus' body as it was lowered to the ground at last
A seemingly ordinary lifeless body now
No hint of the miracle of the colored eggs marking him in any way

You know the rest:

Jesus was entombed
To arise upon Easter Sunday
Just in time to partake in the First Annual Jerusalem Easter Picnic
With the massive buffet of lamb, kosher ham, and chicken
That was served just after the children's egg hunt

Where all the children of the city
Romped across the landscape
Searching for all those miraculous eggs
That the Apostles had so carefully collected
Then hidden creatively to be found

Thusly was the tradition of the Easter Egg born

Post Fashion Magazine Body Consult

I come into his embrace
A feeling of warmth
Without the physical contact
My eyes closed
Tears weep through my lashes
I empty my pain upon his ears

"They told me I was ugly
That my nose was too big
My eyebrows too full
I was too fat
I was too skinny
I have too much hair
I don't have enough
That I only look beautiful in makeup
That I only look beautiful without"

I could feel him thinking
As his hands brushed against me
Touching but not touching my bare skin
For as always I was naked before him
Though I was fully clothed

A fine electric charge between him and I
Giving the illusion of touch
Very gentle
Not shocking or rough

With a feeling of his lips whispering against mine
He speaks to me

"You are beautiful
Everything about you is as it should be
You are not too much or too little of anything
The perfection of you is just what I need
You inspire passion
You are loved"

Tears dried
My eyes open
Seeing the world once again
Just as cruel as it was a moment ago
But unable to hurt me
Safe inside my armor as I now am

Gummy Attraction

I can see the critter's appeal
For upon prodding it squeals
It's well worth the buck fifty
Even if it's survival is iffy
After all how long could a squealing gummy bear last?

Certainly not past the next meal

The Deer Is Dead

So the deer is dead
I'm half thinking as I jump up and down
The drum and crinkle of thin sheetmetal accompanying me

What am I jumping on?
I'll get to that

This all started on my way home Saturday night
Or Sunday morning
Depending on how you view such things

It was 1 am

I was only three miles from home
Driving the superhighway of US-23 at 55 mph or so
And I was just passing the cemetery where my father is buried
Beneath his stone bench
With his name, birth and death dates upon it
And, disturbingly to my children
My mother's name and birth date upon it
Even though she is still alive

We told them that was perfectly normal
As she plans on being buried there

But it is a stark reminder of life and death

Just past the cemetery
Four deer trot out into my headlight beams
I was about fifty feet from them
And they were covering the entire road with their four-in-a-line march

Usually
I aim for the empty spots in the herd when such things happen
It's gotten me through numerous close calls in the past
But there really weren't any this time
At least none big enough for the whole width of the car

On my brakes hard
But not nearly enough distance to stop from 55
I aimed between the tail end of deer #2 and the front of deer #3
Perhaps the gap would miraculously widen by the time I got there
But it didn't

I smacked into the rear end of deer #2 at about 25 mph

Which doesn't seem like much when you say it like that.

But it was enough to break his back and kill him
At least I figured that's what happened
As he was certainly dead when I went back to check on him
Eyes wide open
Tongue hanging out
Classic deer death pose
Though his hind end was strangely twisted

I resisted the urge to rearrange him in a more natural position
I'm not the deer mortician
What do I know?

I walked back the the car
With it's right front looking just like I'd hit a deer
The relatively thin sheetmetal of the hood concaved in
But not as bad as it could have been

None of the other deer stuck around
I suppose you learn to move on quickly when you are a whitetail deer in Michigan

Which brings me back to Sunday
Right now
Which finds me jumping up and down on top of my smashed hood

I'd taken it off
And tried to imagine how the heck I was going to straighten it out enough to use
The only thing coming to mind was removing it and laying it upside down in the leafiest, softest part of my yard
And jumping up and down on the dents

Thinking about the dumb dead deer and his friends
Walking around the roads at night
And dumb alive me and my little car
Driving around the roads at night

One of the two of us needs to change their habits

The hood?
It didn't turn out half bad, considering