One essay + One poem = Poets off Poetry, a (mostly) monthly series where poets write about what they've been listening to lately, and its sometimes ancillary results.
Questions, compliments, (hopefully not) complaints?
Contact Jackie Clark: afterthoughtgraveyard [at] gmail [dot] com
ELVIS
CAUGHT MY SOUL IN THE AIR LIKE A ROSE BETWEEN HIS TEETH
by
CAConrad
“If you are very frank with yourself and don't mind how
ridiculous anything that comes to you may seem, you will have a chance of
capturing the symbol of your direct reaction.”
Music is part of my everyday poetry experiments, especially with the
study of Ernst Chladni's discoveries that music has physical form, OF HOW music
has physical form.
Music
takes shape in us. Crop collectors are
my favorite beetles and bees and I've spent time sitting very still in patches
of daffodils in hopes of being pollinated TO NO AVAIL! Music though!
At this very moment I am listening to two different CDs at once,
Portishead's latest triumph, THIRD, and the soundtrack to VIVA LAS
VEGAS.
Elvis is immersion for all of these tines of the comb raking across the groin. Degeneration essentials.
Elvis is He is He. Peanuts
taste like Him, tubs of margarine taste like Him, my boyfriend's cum tastes
like Him, you can tell this truth or not, but it still tastes like Him. Enter
into this a bastard loving the crotch-al swing of it. Elvis enchants the new chakra the external
chakra for our poisonous drainage.
I MEAN HEAPS AND HEAPS OF US AT IT! Oh no, Oh my, I make sense every
time I try not to make sense on Him. Elvis is He is He. Those of us born in the
last half century heard Him in the womb at some point, on Momma's record player
while she softly rubbed us through her belly. Or from a passing car. THE
LUCKIEST OF US WERE CONCEIVED WHILE MOMMA AND PAPA FUCKED TO ELVIS PUMPING OUT
OF THE RECORD PLAYER OUT OF THE WALLS OUT OF THE FUCKING LEAVES OF PLANTS ON
THE SILL AN ENTIRE ELECTRICAL PULSE FOR SPERM TO FIND EGG THE EGG SPLITTING
OVUM SEND US INTO LIGHT.
In Graceland We Trust. The
American poet Karen Weiser wrote in the introduction to her newest set of
poems, "When I became pregnant I felt like my brain and body were filled
with static. This static was less a sound than a sense that the flickering of
snow on a TV screen had been made into liquid and pumped into my veins. This
made it hard to think, hard to do anything. After a while I realized that it
was her signal. I couldn't hear my own ways of thinking or feeling with this
other person's atoms multiplying inside of me. It was the sound of the big
bang, and my own radio brain was tuned in." (from To Light
Out, forthcoming from Ugly Duckling Presse). It's so beautiful to KNOW
THIS TRUTH from a trusting poet! The beauty of it opens everything wide open in
so many ways!
ME: Have you ever jerked off
while fantasizing about Elvis?
ME: I don’t jerk off.
ME: Yeah, right. Well, have you
ever fantasized about Elvis while making love to someone?
ME: Not “to” someone, it’s
“with.” And there’s no need to fantasize. Ever since Elvis took the stage in
the late 1950s, every man has genetically enterprised in actual time/flesh,
different aspects of Elvis to profit from the enormous burden of attraction he
instilled upon the species. Elvis is always in bed with you, even in most cases
of lesbian sex.
ME: What about Norberto?
ME: The reason my relationship
with Norberto has lasted as long as it has is due to the enormous number of
attributes of Elvis he has absorbed.
ME: Does he know this?
ME: No, most men have absorbed
these qualities on a subconscious level. It’s those who are aware of the Elvis
they have adopted in their love-making that have a particular flair for the
type of sexual spontaneity which will ultimately move that soul forward to a
higher frequency.
ME: How do we discover a
lover’s Elvis aspects, and how do we let them know?
ME: Well, telling them about it
runs the risk of sounding insane. What I’ve done to move forward spiritually
with my lover—because that is, hopefully, the goal—is play Elvis music while
we’re in bed. What this does is connect his absorbed Elvis aspects with the
vibration of Elvis’s actual vibrato which put those absorbed aspects in him in
the first place. Almost instantly you will notice a connection, a heightened
awareness in the various movements to the opera of your love-making.
ME: What songs do you
recommend?
ME: It’s good to experiment.
Each soul has fused with a different combination of Elvis aspects which best
aids their awareness and eventual progression. I’ve found Norberto and I move
forward as bonded souls with such songs as “Kentucky Rain,” “All Shook Up,”
“Surrender,” and particularly the entire soundtrack to Viva Las Vegas.
ME: Even though he’s married
already?
ME: His wife is not aware of
his Elvis aspects. It’s clear he experiences a different state of consciousness
when he’s with me. And besides, Norberto and I have much karma to run our
fingers through by aligning our Elvis aspects.
ME: What about the songs? Is it
the words?
ME: The surface content of the
songs has some effect, yes, but it’s really the actual sound wave itself, still
hidden to the optic nerve of the human eye in our present state of physical
evolution on earth. The sound waves of Elvis carry deeply buried, deeply
important signals which adjust, readjust, align, and ultimately raise the
source of light in the tissue, fusing the purpose of the tissue with the
purpose of the soul, which came to earth encoded for the journey of a life.
ME: Does the orgasm play a role
in the sexual/spiritual process?
ME: The orgasm is a reward on
the physical plane only. The orgasm does interrupt, and often undo much of the
Elvis aspect alignment, which means prolonged love-making is much preferred to
ensure that a new level of raised frequency and light is reached. I find if
it’s too quick, an orgasm can actually reverse the achieved levels of previous
Elvis aspect love-making. But then again, we can’t spend all day in bed.
ME: The world would probably be
a better place though.
ME: Oh yes, I’m convinced the
rhythm of worldwide love-making for a solid 24 hours would shudder the planet
to its core, causing a planetary orgasm which would connect us with our true
Elvis aspects right off the physical plane for good.
photo by Janet Mason (http://amusejanetmason.com)
CAConrad is the son of white trash asphyxiation whose childhood included
selling cut flowers along the highway for his mother and helping her shoplift.
He escaped to Philadelphia where he lives and writes with the PhillySound
poets www.PhillySound.
Elvis is TANTRA?
Posted by: mlp | May 15, 2009 at 12:08 PM