The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

Friday, October 21, 2011

Santissima Muerte

How did I get myself into this one? I promised my friend Andrea that I would penetrate a Secret Female Place after I stole Fire and rent the Veil of the Temple.

I even went and said that I “did it” like some High School locker room braggart. And now, of course, everybody wants to hear the juicy details. Well, something went down that Moonlit Tuesday night on my prostration retreat.

I think.

Truth to tell, I am worried because there are all these more experienced people out there and, when I talk about it, they might laugh at me and mock: “That was it?

Comparisons are odious. And when you are talking about penetrating the Secret Female Place, they are downright odoriferous. It's a very private thing and it's hard to describe. Of course you can describe it from the outside in a way, but that really doesn't capture what it is like.

Fortunately, I have a few things I need to recount first anyway, so I can stall for time.

Probably the most important one is when I gazed at the Full Moon of Mind and completely lost it. That's important because if you are self conscious when you approach the Secret Female Place, things tend not to go so well. But that doesn't happen till Tuesday and I am way ahead of myself.

It's generally best, not always best, mind you—there are no absolute rules in this game and sometimes things just happen—but it is generally best if there is a little romance and foreplay first. So when I woke up on Monday morning, I'm thinking Candlelight, Flowers, Precious Metals, Full Moon. I'm not the most original guy in the world. But these things generally help.

I am also a modern person so I like efficiency and economy. In my post about how I Steal Fire I related my attempt to light candles for my St. Anthony's Dining Room sponsors. (There were no candles so I stole the Fire instead.) Now this is either embarrassing or brilliant, but I figured I could buy some candles and use the same ones for my sponsors and the romance at the same time. I mean is anybody really keeping track?

Where I live there is a large Mexican population and a big Day of the Dead celebration right after Halloween. That means the Mexican grocery stores have lots of Santissima Muerte candles for sale. Ordinarily (unless your lover is a Goth or something) candles dedicated to “Most Holy Death” might not seem so romantic, but in John O.'s magical poetic world, Death and the Secret Female Place are definitely related. Without a strong awareness of Death, you are not likely to get anywhere near Her Mystery.

I knew what I had to do: I would go back to the statue of La Virgen de Guadalupe at St. Boniface's Church in the Tenderloin and light three Santissima Muerte candles.

Just thinking about it made me feel romantic as hell.

It's true, I was concerned that you sponsors might find it a little scary to find out that I lit Death candles for you, but I never promised you guys I wouldn't light Death candles for you, and I think you'll live—and die eventually too.

It was raining Monday morning and I left my room in my ex-wife's garage before the stores opened in the Mission district, so I wouldn't be able to get the Santissima Muerte candles till that night.

A truly amazing thing happened though. On one of the very worst stretches of Market Street, I looked down and found two genuine ER 925 Silver Earrings on the disgustingly gross sidewalk. Precious Monday Moon Metal right in the slime. This really happened!

All I needed were the Flowers of Hopelessness and romance was in the bag.

I was relieved to find my cardboard reasonably dry under the plywood by the dumpster. I wandered the Tenderloin looking for a dry spot that didn't reek of urine or have a homeless person or two sleeping in it. I finally found the perfect spot under an overhang across from the Mark Twain Hotel on Taylor.

Not much happened that day. I did lots of prostrations with few distractions. There were not many pedestrians and the cars drove by me without a glance.

I gave Lenny from Louisiana $10. He “needed a train ticket to Pleasanton to make a court appearance.” I said, “Sure let's go get one.” This was a little cruel because I knew it was probably bullshit. Sure enough, on the way I could feel his tension build. He had a twisted posture and his face got just as twisted as he screwed up the courage to level with me. When he did, I gave him the money and said I didn't care what he did with it as long as he didn't hurt himself.

I could tell he had been abused as a child and told him I knew someone had done him wrong back home. He said it sure was nice to talk to someone who knew what happened. He showed me the scar where he had a lung removed at General Hospital and said he was told he would be dead three years ago.

When I shook his hand he asked what he could do for me. I asked if he believed in God. He looked like he didn't want to offend me, and said, “I don't know what I believe.” I said, “I don't either, but you can still pray, 'Go John' for me.” He said he would.

I gave Anita $5 “for her medications.” She said, “Wait, I'll be right back.” Forty-five minutes later she returned with a really nice inflatable mat and a blanket.

I was amazed that I was starting to accumulate too many possessions! I gave the mat and blanket away to a homeless person in a doorway on the way home that night but I accidentally left my cardboard with him too. “Oh well,” I thought.

Then it came to me that tomorrow, Tuesday, on the Full Moon I would leave the box with the schizophrenic's candy home also. Maybe just take a few pieces as a romance offering. It was scary, but I felt ready.

If you want to penetrate the Secret Female Place, Sweets, Candles, Flowers, Precious Metals and the Moon are all to the good, but sooner or later you're going to have to just get naked and go for it.

Love to All,

John O.


1 comment:

  1. Thanks for the fix J.O. (it will just have to last until Tuesday's Moonlit details).

    I hope SHE can find her voice with You again.

    Be well, be satisfied.

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