Monday, April 1, 2019

The Time Of Claws

Conceptuality coming to get ya in its claws - Exoskeletal pincers pinch at calceous crunchy krogens and split them into elemental flakes - The Time of Illusions is running out -

The Claws Of Time

Osseous - brittle - carapacious - exoskeletal - keratinous - telechronological - clattering and clacking or mineralized husks - chattering teeth in secular skull with sunken eyes and the sands of time trickling - running through the jaws of fossilized throwbacks - 

Thursday, February 28, 2019

An Gath Vlewek Dasson 119 Kommolek Tewlwolow Ha Bengalji Brae

Oh Globe - oh world - what are you up to now~  What in the world are you doing you jesting scoundrel sayeth the clown upon the throne of hay - thus it spun and thus forth it crisseth-crosseth the terrestrial territory - An tir - an mor ha ebbren yw -  Tramor gwerinieth ha yn Kernow gwerinieth Lemmyn - Kai styn Elada dimokratia kai manges xorepsetai zeibekiko kai fumaro xasissi pola - and so it was and so it was and spinneth the orb towards midnight -

Hey time - hey dust - hey consciousness - trickling mercury shimmers and glistens in the sun - let the people shine - let the light blaze - let the golden mirror shimmer and burn bright the light - the light -

Cool Orb Of Lustre Cast

Visions from the Ghetto - Mystical Raptures from the Council Estate -  Inspirations encountered in the Street - Just everyday stuff that-s going down right now - as we speak - as we stream forward through time and all that interstellar jazz of exploding universes and proton-storms - The corona of the sun was bottled but when was the last time you felt the bumps on the bottle of fizz huh~ Comic-book past and cartoon heroes - laughs echoing away down the halls of eternity - Rainbow bubbles rising and the pulse of the great life-force of the universe surging through your every cell and nerve - space-dust fizzing away merrily on the teenage tongue - Sunny cycles of time in the afternoon golden glow of universal joy - every girl and every boy - wake up!  The Dream-s End Is Beginning -
What end~ What dream so real - just so real - so very very real - down by the lemonade stand the sun shines on the street-musicians - finger-cymbals - tambourines and a gypsy sings - so real it was - Cool blue orb arc the zenith -  the sparkle of the that seen dancing on the moon-water at night -

Thursday, January 31, 2019

Silvery Shineth Full Forth Slippery Fish Crystaline

As you slip and slide into slumber n ride the liminal line down to drowsy trance and the flow of rich imagery runs then you will know the realms and blissful tracks that the Caterpillar tacks and the meanings of hence where and whence he-s coming from and whitherfore whence he goeth forth hence – thoroughly spending spilled shillings and pence – thoughtfully though full-throated rough roared the guttural guitar throat of the hummingbird-shaggy-yak-thing as it spoke –
Trying to get to the other side of the city – crossing towns familiar imagined and spectral aglow – busing around the city and following symbolic streets through half-familiar thoroughfares and cobbled back-alleys muses and the tinkling guitars of the gypsies again -  Also a chalk hill also a falling leaf also a leaping trout also the falling rain also the rustling windalso the trundling of wheels also the clacking of heels also the fringes of feels also the movements of eelsalso the running of feet – city streets a-throng and the river of time never pauses –
Singing the song of the irrational flow of unconscious gossamer The Invertebrate Press has also published the unique novel “The Kramvil” which is to be found in “The Horned Whale” by Jeremy Schanche -  ISBN:  978-0-9934909-1-0    -  The book contains two other stories plus some poetry and glossaries -    The Invertebrate Press also publishes The Limpet – a monthly journal of world-events -  You can find The Caged Crusader website here -

Tasting the moment – living in visionary bliss -    dragons draw the cloud-curtain back on jade-mountain -  Breathing in and out the hermit is fulfilled -  From the heart of the yogi flows the grace-wave -  Blessing and blessing innumerable beings -  Cultivating the mind of nothing -   Walking in silence through misty bamboo-groves at dawn -  Filling the water-jar -  Pouring the silvery tea -  Painting the rain over the mountain and forest-trees swaying in the wind-s blasting and rain like rice falling -  Keeping the mind of kindness -  Friendly to all – the hermit has a quiet heart -  The heart firm in love has no room for enmity – bliss only and the light of knowing -  The mind is not made of bricks and straw nor wood and sand – this sparkling mind you cannot hold in your hand -  It-s shape and colour defy the most thorough search or analysis – In short it is a butterfly which temporary meat-hands grasp not through rough grabbings-at but only through sagacious contemplations and thus sat the sage and knew not no rage for his heart he had cleansed and the rain washed his thoughts true and few -  Oh whistling wind aloft in the sky so close carry the great grace-wave of the quiet-hearted yogis afar scattered in realms of deep tranquillity quilted in natures originality and glimpsed in sparkling contemplativeness on loving-kindliness and empty-handedness – as in space and the blue wave of time that runs and ripples through it like the spark of feeling that lights the living flesh and life-s flickering fiery candle that burneth up bright – alive – alive – alive – and quiet sat the yogi –

Or even better:



Monday, January 28, 2019

Crystaline Fish Slippeth Forth Full Shine Silvery

The Caterpillar is beamed to you from beyond the carapace of eternity in the shell of the infinite sky and the everlasting moment of golden sunlight and silvery moon–merriel on the face of the ocean at night -  
No wind-s whistling wild nor string-quartet-s smile can ripple the Caterpillar-s carapace nor alter his lepidopteral pace one inch nay give him grace for he is not of this world and cometh forth from deep realms of sleep his secrets not to keep but to spill forth sharingly unto ye frothy worlde of day upon which ye sunlight doth sometimes playe – oh yea – oh yea – lack a day ye lackadaisical daisy picker and sleek city-slicker – lack ye never a day I say!  For amongst ye The Caterpillar has come to play – 

Beyond the carapace - - -

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Into The Thunderbolt Land (Part 2)

"Whatever arises - know and recognize it to be the wisdom-play of your primordial mind -  Do not become involved in it - do not struggle against it -  simply let it play out and a clearer light still shall shine through -
Rest in this light of non-conceptual original awareness -  Whatever then happens - let it wash over or through you - it doesn-t matter - simply rest within the purity of the light -
Whatever manifestations might occur - they are simply illusions woven of light - woven of the same clear light that radiates knowing consciousness - begins nowhere -  has no end - no middle - no physical existence whatsoever and is as insubstantial as a puff of yak-s breath -
This radiant - non-physical - luminous - timeless entity of knowingness is fundamentally good through and through -  it shines powerful rays of loving-kindness into the ten directions and three times and has actually always been thus - pure - good and radiant - since any beginning you care to posit -  This formless -  glowing - knowing - loving entity has a continuity that runs through and beyond conceptual time and measurable space - since ultimately it occupies neither - being not made of physical substance nor compounded of parts or elements it is immune to the power of the world and resides in a primordial "space" of pure luminosity and knowing -  the original stronghold of the Tathaghatagharba - "

When the Red Guards first started showing up in the rural districts and terrorising and interrogating the locals Lobsang was extremely worried lest anyone found out that he had been in possession of "counter-revolutionary propaganda" as religious materials and almost all foreign forms of journalism and literature were strictly banned by the Party and people who were found in possession of such things were reputedly meeting very grisly fates at the hands of these blood-crazed and insanely zealous youths whose average age was 15 -
These young people had been trained to be utterly ruthless - indoctrinated into a cult of violence and let loose -  to torment and distress the simple peasant population who had virtually no grasp of Marxist-Leninist Social Theory and were much more interested in tending their flocks as they had always done -
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"5th September 1904 - Tong Pa Nyi Gompa - North Central Tibet -  During our crossing of the Tsangpo River one of the yak-hide coracles carrying the gear started taking in water and unfortunately one of my note-books was ruined -  Particularly frustrating as it contained the notes I-d taken at Tashi Gompa where I-d studied with the local Lama for several weeks -  He covered a great variety of topics and seemed eager to educate a foreigner like me -  That region of the country is more lush than most of Tibet - with rich forests and canyons in the foothills -  I took many atmospheric walks among the rhododendrons that climbed up into the mist-dripping heights where silver apes could sometimes be glimpsed playing among the trees -
As I recall - Lama Dorje started by stressing the famous Buddhist principle of Impermanence -  the dissolution of all compounded things - objects - personalities - even worlds -
He had a very numerical style of teaching and it is largely down to this that I can recall as much as I can - The Two Truths - (Relative and Absolute)  -  The Three Kayas (Nirmanakaya - Sambhogakaya and Dharmakaya) and the Triple Refuge (Buddha - Dharma and Sangha) -  The Four Noble Truths -  The Five Skhandhas or Aggregates - The Six Realms of Conditioned Existence or Lokas - (Devas - Asuras - Humans - Animals - Pretas - Hell-beings)  -  The Seven Line Prayer (A Tantric Hymn) -  The Ten Bhummis of the Boddhisatva Path -  The Twelve Links of the Causal Chain -
On each of these topics the Lama would give most erudite talks - using the theme as a starting-point from which to dive into an ocean of profound learning - skillfully weaving the various points together so that - even to a foreigner and a beginner like me - the whole elaborate synthesis started to gradually become clear in my mind -  I have to stress how it was not a mere intellectual or academic lecture but rather his whole being was lit with enthusiasm and wisdom as he talked and he seemed to convey meaning beyond mere words -  In fact - as he pointed out to me - in their tradition - they believe it is possible to transmit wisdom from an accomplished yogi to a suitably prepared student rather in the manner of a telegraph transmission (but without the wires!)
The Tibetans are great believers in the psychic life and take it as a given that thoughts can be passed from person to person without the encumbrance of words being necessary -
If I remember rightly he used the analogy of a light that will shine wherever it is unimpeded - Therefore when the monk or practicing yogi has removed enough "clouds of obscuring ideas" from their mind and achieved a tranquil stability through long meditation - the light of wisdom will naturally be seen as there is nothing left to obscure it -
He spoke often of compassion and how that was our inherent nature"

Dukha is a Pali word meaning suffering – as Lama Dorje informed me – not merely the ordinary suffering of everyday life but also the much deeper suffering that comes from being lost in the Samsaric state of unknowing and ignorance that is conditioned-existence -  Because beings fail to recognize their true nature – their original nature – they constantly blunder around piling up more and more wrongful actions which further obscure their minds to the continuous splendour of their own inherent Buddha-nature –
Of all the sufferings within the six realms of unenlightened existence there is no worse form of suffering than being separated from residing in your true nature – the original nature of mind -  

Since the possibility for confusion is almost infinite in scope – when one meets the Buddha-Dharma in this life it is incredibly fortunate and one should not waste such a rare opportunity to progress along the path of liberation as it may not come again for kotis of kalpas or myriad millennia –
For those of us who through great good fortune have entered the path – the constant sight of the teeming multitudes who wander adrift in the fog of confusion becomes a spontaneous and natural starting-point for the generation of universal-compassion –
Without such compassion for all other beings we could not progress a single inch along the path"

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After some hesitation Lobsang Tawa herded up his scattered ideas and realized that if he was going to replace the papers he had found some years ago he had better hurry as the Red Guards could appear at any moment -  This meant interrupting some important tasks on his little farm but he knew it must be done -  Packing a bag of tsampa (parched barley flour) - some yak-cheese and a leather drinking gourd of chang - a weak beer made from fermented barley - he awoke before dawn and headed for the mountain region where he anticipated his rendezvous with a deep-frozen Englishman - "such is life" he mused as his feet crunched the snow under the star-scattered ice-mountains -
To be walking in the Tibetan highlands with a full-moon illuminating the snow-world just before the sun rises is an experience of vast pure and primal space -  a natural capsule to nourish an understanding of the Buddha-Dharma - a place where the raw power of nature dwarfs the human sense of concepts and ideas - where pure nature rules supreme -
Glorious purple cloaks and rags of cloud dappled the immense sky as the earth rolled round to meet the sun again - His family had been in these mountains for millennia and the pastoralist felt an awakening sense of familiarity rising in his breast as he slowly ascended into the moon-like terrain of the plateau -
After a couple of hours he passed a small and ancient-looking gompa or monastery on a ridge and heard the distant chant of sacred mantras and tantric hymns - punctuated with the pounding of drums and bells - and the bizarre and darkly powerful roar and wail of the shawms large and small - sending out their message of transcendental wisdom to the pure skies and snowy peaks that loomed all around 
The seemingly cacophonous shawm and drum music of the Tibetan monasteries is said to be an attempt to imitate the sounds of the nadis during the death-process -  This primal and energetic music prepares the acolyte for the natural sounds encountered during the dissolution-process which is entered into with clear yogic awareness -
Yes - even humble herdsmen and agriculturalist nomads knew of such things in this part of the world -  Many centuries of exposure to the wisdom-culture of the Lamas and Yogis who thronged the country had allowed such ideas to permeate into the culture and scraps of mystical knowledge were common currency here -  The harsh environment had conditioned the people to a tough existence that was never far-removed from the reality of death -  This was also a great source of the compassion and understanding that permeated the philosophy of the people -
Lobsang took inspiration and murmured his own mantras for some time - clearing his mind and focusing on his aspirations as he slowly but constantly gained altitude and the sun rose to greet him in a blaze of golden glory -
After another three hours Lobsang drew close to the area of the cave -  He had prepared himself and told himself that a dead man can-t hurt anyone -  Being forewarned he was not really expecting to be particularly fearful of the corpse he was heading towards -

He vividly remembered the previous time he had seen the frozen body - curled up in a fetal position and partially buried under a drift of fine snow -  The image seemed to become clearer in his mind as he approached the cave - as if it had been suppressed all this time and was now being released -
The final couple of miles were quite hard-going - even for one as acclimatized as he was -  He stopped for a brief break and washed some tsampa down with a few mouthfuls of chang -  Sweeping his gaze around him he took in a wonderful collection of snowy peaks spread before him in all directions -  The sky showed a variety of beautiful colours -  At this altitude there was very little dust in the air and this gives a purity of vision and clarity of view -  At one point he saw a string of geese flying over - heading to one of the mountain-lakes hereabouts - Their lonesome cries in the brittle air resounded and echoed - bouncing off the ice-mountainsides and reverberating through the valleys for miles around -  The only other sound was the occasional rumble of a minor avalanche -  They were fairly constant in the region at that season and Lobsang knew enough about the mountains to usually manage to stay out of their path -  Once in a while he had had to run to one side to get out of their way but as they were fairly small this was easy enough -  He replaced the stopple in his drinking-gourd and got to his feet - ready to finish his business with the past and get back to his village before anyone noticed his absence -  Once more his felt-clad feet crunched virgin snow -
Rounding the last hunched ridge of ground he suddenly glimpsed the cave - high up in the side of a rocky cliff-face -  He started climbing -  At one point an eagle soared overhead - its shadow speeding across the ground - black on white -  wingtips flexed -
Reaching the cave at last Lobsang stepped inside - only to recoil in deep shock -  The body of the dead Englishman that he had last seen ten odd years before - huddled against the wall and looking very corpse-like and rigid - was now sitting upright in the Lotus posture - hands resting on knees -  eyes open and turned upwards as if in deep trance - for all the world looking just like a meditating yogi!