So There I Was Going Down The Road When All Of A Sudden

Nature never went away - we did -  Now it-s good to step back -  step back into nature -  It never went away -  You did -  your foreparents did -  your fake-culture did -  nature never did -  still here - 

Still dropping leaves in the forest and raindrops in the sea -  Still unfolding the fern and shining the eye of the seer -  Still mossing the wood and lichening the stone -  Still stronging the bone and redding the blood - still coursing in the loins of lions - the heart - the brain -  bringing the rain - bringing the surge -

ΤΟ ΠΑΙΧΝΙΔΙ ΤΟΥ ΑΜΕΡΙΚΑΝΟΥ - ΡΙΤΑ ΑΜΠΑΤΖΗ - 1936

Odd Mycology

The Mind - flowing with awareness like a river - 
you can-t have a river without water - 
you can-t have mind without awareness - they are the same thing - feeling - sensing - emoting - cognitive function and conceptuality - these are all aspects of the mind - all based on its fundamental ability to be aware - its awareness - simple awareness itself -
The mind can go through innumerable realms - ordinary - extraordinary - pure and impure - clear and deluded - sacred and profane - it-s all in the mind - what we perceive and what we conceive are all within the mind - where else - - - it-s the same mind - deluded or clarified - calm or agitated - the same mind -
Thoughts and beliefs and of course experiences can colour the personality or superficial layers of consciousness - Like a collection of ornate lanterns - personalities are the characteristic and unique containers for the universal and undifferentiated brilliance and radiance of awareness itself -
Almost 40 years ago I fueled my mind with the sacred Druidic fungi that blossom in the Autumn and have been used by humans for countless millennia - In the November issue of The Caterpillar I described my experience - in this Dub Issue of The Caterpillar I-ve re-mixed my impressions of this long-past experience into a piece of psychedelic art - seemed like the thing to do with it all these years later - 

Essentially the Mind is Good - - - - - - -

The Caterpillar No.100 / An Gath Vlewek 100 - Oh Yea, Oh Yea, Here Ye The News! (Calling The Carapaced Muse)

Well a ripple forms up out of the aether and up rises The Caterpillar, lost in the fog again.  Where have you been?  What have you seen?  What have you to tell of The Shyre and it's perpetual dream?  Many leagues have I laboured and many versts have I vaulted, faultlessly vaunting a Raven's crawk, I rattled back to town and blended in with the sleepers.  Now I drift among them, a globose and gelatinous thing of the night, putting cats and dogs to fright with the fire in my jelloid orbital eye. Back from the Ancestral Lands where Spirits seethe in blissful ecstatic writhe, churning in a sea aethereal and glassy I brood gothic and austere, as lichen clings to the unspeakably ancient rock.  Moss my bed and granite ivy and rooks for a pillow of illusion, dew-drenched and peeped at by wrens.

From the soul of your scribe streams a scroll of jive, freely given with aethereal fingers five, a pympbys starfish is a five-fingered hand - left hand stranded on the spindrift sands till time waves a hand holding a magic wand and oceanic billows crash - the thought-waves of a sea of mind.

Yes me friends, let the sun stream into your hearts, the jewel-like crystal images into your minds - from an autumnal hay-field blows a golden breeze bringing a gift from the Goddess of Harvest, the richness of the Dreamland, scattered to the breezes of summer's end.  A tear trickles down the marble face of a Karyatid and a faughn shivers in the morning dew.  Light glistening through a clear glass flask onto a pure flower of violet - memories of a youthful idyll, a bliss of the mind, a blessing, a wish, a dream, globules, crystaline fragments and jewels of the inner-lit-mind.  Poetry poured from the horn of the proclaiming piper, a figment at the Gates of Dawn, wrapping his purple cloud cloak around shoulders of shimmering bronze, towering, ancestral, imaginary, wrought of jade, ivory and mother-of-pearl, you ride the Keltek breeze and guard the souls of the tribes of old, your eye sweeps the ocean deep and scatters souls to sleep.  

DREAM MANIFESTO

Following recallibration of the soporific illusion nets, it has become apparent that life is indeed a dream.  The findings came to light as researchers at the Centre for Dream Experience and Elucidation finally woke up to the facts of life can be a dream.  Also how did they know not to that it wasn't?  And anyway it's time to wake up now--- you're running, running down a street - you're in a strange city, though parts of it seem oddly familiar - alone you ramble and wander the serpentine and convoluted conduits of a misty dream-city - you meet a friend - is it a friend?  You see your lover down by the great river that winds out of the jungle-country to the north-west, above the mountains, beyond the plains where the horse-nomads live and the skylarks play. Is it her?  You follow but she's gone.  Some foreigners arrive and offer you a ride in a canoe - should you take it?  Why not?  You jump in and are conveyed to the ancient city, upstream, that was built by the elder culture, before the new city was built - - but wait - isn't it the same city?

Sweet Dreams of You    

Julia Dream         

Dream of Unwin                                 

Chopin Op.50 No.3,   Rubenstein

http://www.youtube.com/user/floydyopz/       

http://www.poemhunter.com/the-caterpillar/poems/     

Truml:

Ye Caterpillar

Truml.com

The Caterpillar Dub 26 - wErDfLo

Hi & Welcome! Come on in & sit right down & make yourself at home! As the Hubbub of World Revolution swirls outside the door, the printing presses clack and spew. The wire hums and the teleprinter taps out its news. The tramp of running feet on the street outside is decorated with the minore sound of the tinkling bouzouki. The laughter of poets and the sonorous chanting of sutras flavours the clinking of shovels as they fill sandbags at inner-city barricades.

The World spins still in infinite depth, extending out in all directions. Still the atoms of reality cling together and make a worldpicture. Gravity continually organizes curtains for the Mind, and pulls the eyes downwards to sleepy habit. And slumbering still upon the tongue a dew-drop dances, shimmers, shakes and falls.

In this monthly mish-mash mashup from the dreaming skull, we push for Ahimsa. Awash with words, we reap the verdant verbiage and gather in wordage of worldwords and woolworths wobbling walabys.

And of the blue moon we sing.

And if Gillpington wanders afar from his beloved labyrinth, tis only to return refreshed, reflecting free energetic panayric.

Lyres plucked skillfully tell song of a Great legendary Worldegg hatching - hinting at futurity and potential Great Things for Humanity.

And turning on a gloaming cloud of Keltek mizzle, the shadow falls of the evening, darkling the ivy that clings to the little elder tree.

If you enjoy The Caterpillar Dub, you can print, cut and distribute these flyers:

http://radiofreepenzance.blogspot.com/

http://www.youtube.com/user/floydyopz?feature=mhee#p/p

Going beyond PlayWords:

http://www.purifymind.com/Sutras.htm