The Brain It Reigneth Every Day

Glawak yn Kernow yw - Rain splashes on the Shyre -  
mixing with the ocean at Pensanskrit prom where waves break onto the drizzly grey flagstones and seals bob up and down in the waves - a mother teaching her pup to swim -  Herrings shoaling in and mists and mizzles settling in for the foreseeable -  Fisherfolk swarming - parading - spying out to sea with spyglass for the Spanish fleet - and dreaming of sunnier days of summer back in New Lynsmouth where processions swarm the piers of the harbour where once a great scuttling of crustaceans took place and a great rattling of carapaces was heard throughout the land -
The music of rain was the constant song now and the rattling of wind in the roofs and gables - the old towne was battening down for winter and keeping a weather-eye out for the weather -  Gulls ruled the sky and starfish slept deep in pools of glassy green sea-water under fathoms of brine -   Here too lurked Lepadogaster lepadogaster - also his cousin - Lepadogaster purpurea - The Cornish Sucker -  The Puffer-Fish shuddered and went off in a huff -  

An Morvil Kornek

Things Fly By Night

By night they fly and flitter - It has always been so - Nobody can stop it - By night these things will always flitter - 

ΣΕ ΓΕΛΑΣΑΝΕ - ΣΤΡΑΤΟΣ ΠΑΓΙΟΥΜΤΖΗΣ, ΜΑΡΚΟΣ ΒΑΜΒΑΚΑΡΗΣ - 1941

Παπαϊωάννου & Περπινιάδης - 

Είσαι γυναίκα του μπελά

A Turbid Colourless Viscous Solution

Back in the wilderness at last - when a raven circles round and round overhead cawing you know you-re in the right place - Where else is there to be but nature ~

Glorious Tewlwolow Vision

Ten luminous Earth-years rumbled by as the transmissions continued to emanate from the abstracted whirling antennae of the larval and carapaced entity known to me only by the nomenklatura of The Caterpillar and these atom-rippling mysteries did indeed sparkle bright and glitter ever before me - enticing me on to realms of glittering light - of shining harmonies and districts of molten energy that lurk in those unimaginably vast and unfathomable gulphs between the atoms of structural matter - 
On other and many another divers voyage across the watery globe in pursuit of the shining waters and the shimmering seas and all that they hid and held hasped in their samfire-grasp I wandered forth distracted and dreamy-footed I stumbled out upon the Spanish Main to chew cactus-buds with vultures for my companions and spit the golden pips at the bones of the bleached buffaloes wallowing in the dust of nothing on a blistering day of droning flies and rippling glistening heat - As such I followed my feckless feet and set pen to ink and paper to fire in a frenzied attempt to warm my gelatinous skeletal frame - I clutched at a spy-glass with grizzled hand and spun it out towards the land - the land I saw was golden dust with glimmering hedge-rows of autumn-s rust - I rattled on in country-clogs and ate the miles up under me - 
I thought I could make out the Caterpillar scuttling on ahead - always ahead - and ever disappearing round the next corner or behind the next tree - 
I-d been on the trail of that glorious beast for many a year now and had had only but the fleetingest and most ephemeral of encounters with this great abstract being - this conduit of cosmological diamond-dust - I was determined to catch up with the rattling crustaceous body of him and find out what the blazes it was all about and all!  
Well way back in 1911 The Caterpillar transcribed the journal of Elias Gillpington which in turn mutated into the Gothic novel The Kramvil which is itself the root-cause of The Buxtereide Prize For Literature - one of the most far-reaching - successful and well-known literary prizes in the entire world of West-Cornish Surrealist Collage-Journalism - 
Well - with a track-record like that it only now remains for me to introduce yous to The Caterpillar himself - but that-s just the thing you see - I can-t - because he-s flittered off again - doing a runner on his innumerable scuttling rattling clod-hopping gutter-jumping square-toed diamond-buckled rhythm -n- blues (that-s shoes to you) so I-ll be off after the vanishing glistening footprints of carapaced sparkling mirth and see if he-s gone back to the phone-box - there-s just a chance he-ll remanifest out of the ephemeral archaic aether there in his aerie eyrie atop the midnight classical kiosk where many a jar of nature-nectar necked and knocked gnashing and dashing it to the floor as the visions spun in - 
A desert road - a leafy lane - a watery meadow - a dusty summer road through the slumberous country - eagles over the mountains and rivers spilling down into the rich plains where gypsy fiddles sing and pungent woodsmoke swirls subtle but sweet - moon sets and dawn grey paints dew glistening with diamonds on the cobwebs and the chattering of the first wren coming through the mist of a silvery day rising - 

Dizzy spins the Milky Way -

Stardust and jelly -

The Caterpillar Laughs

For some years now the elder eldritch lepidopteral lava had been crepuscular-flitting and transmitting the pieces of the Minoan Mosaic Culture to me via mystic meet-ups at the midnight phone-box in Pendoze – Behind the Hump-Me Dump-Me statue - In the heart of the old Jewish Market District – near the wharves where whalers rot unsung at rusty anchor and doubloons rattle in the silt and bilge underfoot – Katapliktikos was the Great Antennaed One as he quixotically and osmotically beamed soft luminous neon blue-white rays from his ancient centres of knowledge and shone them my way – Such was the power of the rays I was frequently stunned and on occasion rendered totally unconscious – only to come to some time later – slumped in the midnight phone-box – some time after midnight now of course and rain rattling on the carapace shell of the tiny glass hut -  Never without the glow of celestial knowing do he leave me before going back to the myriad unravelling ways of the night and the mystic business of his thread-spinning and weaving kind -   In tubular glass vials and philes of philtres he left chemicular imprints of significant finds in the realms of organic-structure and the nature of all things -  On waxen cylinders he left strands of music in many forms and styles for a vast range of instrumental forces -  Jars and pots and chests and boxes of scrolls and parchments he passed on and also glass slides and photographic images in many forms – Keys – cyphers – clues – lexicons and harbingers were left loaded – pointing the way to yet more doors to kick open and unleash the collected forces of many cultures and powers – many magical traditions and shamanic studies were included in the ken of the Caterpillar-s whirling feelers – his sentient all-embracing mind flowed over with cultural knowledge and inside nature knowledge like a mighty fountain that sprayed the pigeons that played at its splashing feet -   Shedding the hasps and masks of identity and mortal conformity he re-emerged and re-appeared constantly in ever-slightly-changed forms – ever aetherial and elusive – ephemeral and insubstantial – more idea than flesh-body – more thought-form than sinew – this beast was composed of the very threads of mind-stuff and knew no such limits as ye or I do know – So to learn of lute and lyre and kindle Olympos-s fire in company with this great ephemeral creature was joy untold and over aeons did he the tale unfold – Ever holding in the folds of his robe a book – a telescope and a globe – therewith to scan the scene and scour the worldly-realme and surf upon the billows of the foamy deeps and bustle free and high among the puffy clouds of cumulus nimbus blue and aether and jazz on in the sunset-s gorgeous dripping scarlet purple honey of a sunset howldrehevel evening on old Kernouac Cornish cliff most high and gritty grained bulwark of Atlantek-s roaring shore -   Zeibekiko he scratched with peculiar charm on the many-stringed lyre he clutched with several of his iridescent exoskeletal arms as he spun the melody in slow sedate largo nine eight shuffle – A noble rhythm for an eagle with wings outstretched or circling vulture high above the mountain-valleys looking for carcass with bead of an avine all-spying eye – Thus did he vouchsafe:

Melting myself constantly –

I dissolve into cocoon silk -

Then I spin again –

Afresh the tale unwinds –

You won-t unravel me by grasping at the thread -

This tale starts at the centre –

                                                                                                        *

Winding country road – Many years ago – Leaves blowing from the trees – Yellow the light of the sun – Rain had been driving in sheets – Mellow the smell of the earth – Birds were returning to song – Scatter the light of the sun – Raindrops on dewdrops on grass – Bush-crickets running for shelter – ants sliding skilfully down their holes – Rabbits are running for cover – Thunder breaks dark clouds in two – dark covers over the sky – coolness fills into the air – breeze softly mumbles around – leaves stirs about on the ground – windy and starting to rain – drops big as coins hit the ground – Ears of the forest look round – eyes that have listened to the ground – Skin that has smelt all the ground – whiskers that twitch with the sound – listening the forest around – creatures are stirring in sound – breath coming out of the ground – badgers are mulling and brooding – snorting and snuffles and grunts – badger-breath sticky and hot – Fly hiding under the leaf – glistening radiant eye – shiny the carapace glows – thorax and feelers as one – Well the moving of the morning was unfolding and the waters of the ocean were all seething with scintillating light the waters dancing and all around the winds were softly singing and the hearts of countless people lifted upwards and the rain of light fell gently on the people and the laughter of the throngs was like an ocean and the dancing in the streets was like a heatwave and the singing went right through the flowing morning and the fires still burnt on by nightfall-s darkling and the sparrow and the starling were rejoicing and the ivy was entwining with the elder - 

Print - Cut centre-slit - fold into your eight-page miniature edition of The Caterpillar Dub (This month-s edition features The Luminous Three - Sakyamuni Buddha - Quan Yin and Lao Tsu)









melting from the edges - the surface dissolves to leave only the radiant centre - 

My Back Pages

(What follows is a backlog of previous issues of The Caterpillar that were published on the Save The Holy Headland Blogspot whilst I was temporarily locked out of this here blog!  -  The issues start with January 2018)
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Since the beings that control the internet have locked me out of Ye Caterpillar Blogspot and since The Caterpillar must go on at all costs I-ll be publishing it here until I can kick my way back into my rightful realm - 
The Caterpillar - A Visionary Ghetto Tabloid - is always followed by its echo - its doppelganger - its other side - The Caterpillar Dub - This too must pullulate and reverberate here in this monovalve-zone until such time as I summon the powers needed to overthrow the Gremlins of Blogger and seize the keys to my kingdom once more -
Meantime I will be broadcasting from this station at fifty thousand megahertz and ten thousand watts - if you experience any difficulty receiving the channel please consider sticking a bent wire coat-hanger into one of your USB ports - this should improve reception and allow transmission to flow freely - Viewers listening in mono need not fit a stereo cartridge to their equipment - Please return this blog to its dustproof jacket after use and keep out of direct sunlight - Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible - Thank you for your saintly patience and now here is The Caterpillar!
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Da Mo Shao Lin Song

So clear - so blue - so fresh -

made of nothing - broken by nothing -

inescapable - irreducible -

the good - the good - the all-good -

bam-

Da Mo at Shao Lin - 547 AD

What is known in the trade as Authentic Tibetan Om Music

Tibetan Nuns Project

https://tnp.org/

Tibetan folk songs - Nawakyipo

Sponsor a Tibetan Buddhist Nun and spread happiness

The tale of a Nunnery

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRlj2Or0IGM

John Lennon - Woman is the nigger of the world

https://www.studentsforafreetibet.org/

A classic treatise on Tibetan ethics -
 also available in other languages -

http://www.lexilogos.com/declaration/tibetain.htm

Tibetan-English Dictionary with Sanskrit synonyms - 
Sarat Chandra Das - 1902

https://archive.org/details/tibetanenglishdi00dassuoft

Note:  The Garudas have no wiki-page!  I-m not saying I-m on their side or anything but everyone has their own wiki-page these days - asuras - pretas - even country-bumpkin tory em pees have one!  I say any bird that can lay an egg in mid-air that hatches and flies before hitting the ground deserves a wiki-page of its own - and not a mere stub either!

Vanilla Fudge - Where is my Mind

Okie from Muskokee - Conway Twitty

Beisgawen yn Nyfnwal

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boscawen-Un

Silly Boy Blue - David Bowie

I-d rather be in the gutter looking at the stars than be a star looking like at the gutter - 
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Update:  18th January 2018:

The Caterpillar Dub No 106 -
The Echo of the Question That Hangs In Space

Patella vulgata rasps a pympbys razula -

Karma Man - David Bowie

Wild Nature waits out in the dripping dark night outside where the rain shatters scatters and drenches the soily clod equally - The snail in the dark forest creeps up its tree to feast and follow its foibles - horn-antennae held aloft in striking singularity unseen at night in drip-trickling rains - Its cousin on the rocky shore down the cleeves in the realm of rockpools and tidal splash - Patella vulgata - the eater of rocks - rider of storm-waves - wrastling a pympbys pullulating with oozing papillae undulating with the pulse of vivid life awrithe - Primal pympbys slinks off like an urchin radiating and spinning across the unkempt bed of the sea - An mor - glas yw an mor ha tonnek meur - the wild and restless ocean pulses with fish and glimmers with silver sheets of light cast off of the waters - a fishy eye turned skyward to glimpse a flying-fish seem to splash and gliding flying bouncing silver blur - Old krogen - the common shell of the north and west clinging to rocks and chewing into them to make a little chy - a house - a fine seat for a monovalve - etched into the rock as the million hordes of them chew and chomp at the margins of Britannia - reducing it inch by inch and aeon by aeon - gnawing and chewing and chomping the rocks away the humble salt-water snail - the krogen - the cregyn - the rock-eater -

Lithophagos goes out to graze with the tide and rasps the algaeic slime off the granite boulders - sneaking between the cities of the barnacles to meadows of non-vegetable abundance and growth - and after feasting each limpet knows the way back to its own little crater that it-s dug in the rock by following its own trail of mollusc-slime - a silver trail on the rocks you can see when the tide is high and dry - mordryk ha krogenow hunros yw -razulas rasp rawly as rain glawak drips and runnels from the shell of the krogenek creeper - dreaming himself asleep he wanders at will through the ocean - myriad sparkling glittering luminous planktonic dots drifted over from the mouth of the Miskatonic and washed the krogen along in scintillations -

Back ashore rain merges ceaselessly into the sea wetting what is already wet and deepening what is already deep - The bleenies and clingfish cling and some let go as the tide recedes and they dart across their microcosmic oceans - created twice daily by the earth-s churning waters of the moon - bleenies don-t care - just love to dart and flash across their pools and hide away when animals come and humans - The silver-worm the slow-fish the butter-fish and the bread-fish all swim together under the cleeves and the forest creaks and sighs in cyclonic gwynjak winds - From  blue to glas to grey like a whale-s back and back to glas-green and shimmering glas-glow - the ocean dark - night wet and howling gwynjak yw - Ivy rattles on elm-branches and owls pull their feathers in - Lizards know better and hide under stones and underground pedrevan and kramvil slither asleep tight-lipped without eyelids or colour - Chameleons of the Shyre curl together in the stone-cold hill - The Lizard-Kings of Oblivion off Albion at liberty to slumber saurian in secret Precambrian seance - Critters inumerable of species incalculable slide around the dark wet night and things with no name creep over ancient standing-stones planted so sure in the soil and leading straight back to the Bronze Age and before - The snails of the land chew and clip the petals of the pennywort that grows under the edge of the cromlech on the moor - A guttural grunt issued forth from up out of the earth and it was brogh - ol badger coming up out of the ground for foods - Don-t get in brogh-s way - he-ll just push straight through ya - nothing personal but he sees it different to you - And up on the hill - just under the Roundago howls the fox and slink some paws and snouts a certain nose!  A belly-up badger-corpse leers grinning with open mouth but foxy won-t touch it yet - let the ravens have first pick - foxy seeks sweeter meat and rushes through his bracken tunnels -

As dawn comes the snail raises antennae in salute to the blue - the good blue sky - the light - his bull-horn snail-horn feelers reverberating with joy as touched by the light - and the glawak spattery rain passes in curtains leaving a dripping land in the sun and sky - - -

Wet primal creatures of the dark cold wild night-s rain - what harm have you done ~  Who have you embarrassed or offended by your primal activity of going around at night ~  Why do you not pine for the things us humans have ~  Do you not all - every one of you - long to have your own computer so you can argue with other creatures you have never met in lands widely global and transcontinental locked in mental muttering bout a matter of right and wrong and who did what and wonder what the matter was and minding so much about it - minding so much speech spilled and splashed across screens of plastic light - your comment has been approved -

With summer it-s a different story and caterpillars green riddle the leaves - glas yw an gath vlewek - a little blue caterpillar creeps across a mossy stone in his native land as ragged clouds flit over and crows rook and rock the sky - Sunshine throws a different light through the green - ferns unfurl - all of life returns to the country - it-s really just the same old magic show coming back and it works every time -

All this was dreamed in a taxi-cab blazing down Holland Park Avenue where I once saw The Dead Man lying in the street - we all saw him - but this time just blazing down the avenue and across the seething city of fire-fly souls - Soon crossing familiar streets and glimpsing vistas and alleys and muses mewses courtyards and alleyways - dreamstreets - mind-s wandering vistas - maps of past experience and memory-s shadow - distant echoes - voices on the streets - surging humanity - people in coats and hats - shoppers by the countless million parade the streets - different ages of the city flash by - medieval - pre-war and Edwardian - all in the flash of a cab and the signs are changing - the journey surges on and streets unfurl - throngs pass like ocean tides and the hive buzzes with the great pulse - the cab rolls on towards wherever it trundles - lamps lit on the nose of the cab throw faint green light onto the road like the long arm of Lugh - the chariot rattles along slowly and the countless images wash over the windscreen as the driver weaves his way through well-known ways - spinning the wheel and keeping an eye on the road -

A Limpet Takes Hold

You can usually find The Caterpillar and its sister-paper The Caterpillar Dub published monthly on their own site - where you will also find all the back issues - Happy reading!


Velvet Underground - Beginning To See The Light

Small Faces - My Mind-s Eye

“Who  are  you?”  said  The  Caterpillar.  This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I — I hardly know, sir, just at present — at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'   

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Upadate:  19th February 2018:  The Caterpillar No.107  -
Global Awareness Month 


– A Thirty-Day Telluric Contemplation

Some forces of Nature pulled this great globe together from atomic dust and set it spinning and evolving from withering white-hot lava-blob to green and pleasant land and all varieties of terrain and countrie peopled and populated by all manner of wild and wonderful beasts and fabulous tribes of people beyond measure or imagination teeming forth into the dream – into the day – into the world and around the globe – the eternal ephemeral mosaic of embodied life rippling and scintillating by like an ephemeral flesh parade winding and unreeling into the dark distant light -  Forms countless coming and going in and out of existence and ghost-realms and universal atomic realities known only to those who know those realities only or so it seems clearly -  Dwelling ever in clarification and ever deeper clarification they quietly sit – unnoticed by the work-a-day World rushing by on important business – so quietly they sit and clarify and clarify the mind into clarity and ever-more-clear-clarity -  Clearly Kindness lights their smiles – Luminous they glow – ever-real – never-faking – nature-s wild ones – Quietly they sit – content in their Wildernesses – alone in their globallocal contemplation of all humanity as so many children – So quietly they sit – content in tents they sit in rain – in sun – in shade of summer trees – buzzing flies drone and Winter storms roar all sweet music to those who quietly sit – listening to the sounds of the world – the sounds of nature – the birds – the wind – the sea – insects – rustling noises in the grass – chirpings and drones – buzzings and flutters – The wind – especially sweet and fragrant the sound as it rustles the leaves in gentle soughing nostalgia – the leaves of the seasons of gold and silver of blet – frost and bloom – The wind that stirs and rustles the leaves of the trees stirs and stalks around the globe and roars around anti-cyclonic across the bleak and eldritch Aleutian Gap where the dark herring-studded waters swirl deep between Alaska and Kamchatka – Siberia and the Arctic wastes of floating pancake-ice clinking like a cold glockenspiel - - -  -  But either way and regardless these great natural forces pulled this World together some time ago and our species evolved and popped-up and now here we are today – riding the globe through space – and the more we see The Globe the more aware we become as the Globe of the Earth is an Awareness-Raising Symbol (well it is in my book anyway)

Boswarva Carn Settlement 
Madron Kernow Britain

More on Madron-s menhirs here mon

Preparing The Druid-s Throne

The Throne

The Globe Enthroned

Howlsedhes!  Setting Sun-s rays illuminate Globe atop suspected menhir - Druid-s Throne 15:2:2018



What do we know of the globe that carries us ~  Of the countless cities – farms and cultures of humankind – scattered all around this globe – even Antarctica now the proud primate swarms the planet -  a monkey in a top-hat riding a steam-train and puffing a cigar – look out World!  Here comes Homo sapiens sapiens and we mean business – Homonids – the Great Ape-Men – the proudest and tallest of these erect homos seeming superior in culture – charisma and general pizzaz – Nine Queens gathering at the circle under the midnight moon – Nine Muses –  Nine Maidens – Nine Moons – Boscawen Un – Cregynbysk bloom – sunken doubloons – ululations of the owls of the silver-tongued night – shatter the reverie – scatter the memories – rattling temerity of cyclonic barbarity – the howling tornados of time-s twisting symphony – the cauldron is kicked and the potion spills over – Wake the stones – trace the pattern of prehistory – the Sun-Trails of the Druids and the stone-studded paths of the moon – The granite fingers pointing at eternity – pointing at the sky – space -

It-s All Over Now Baby Blue – 
13^th  Floor Elevators

I-m Set Free – The Velvet Underground   

Funtime - Iggy Pop 

Brilliant Adventure – David Bowie

All I know is we-re stuck to this globe for the foreseeable – 
like it or not -    

Hellys - A Golden Metheven Mandala of Bliss in Kernow's Dreamy Kiss

Down the time-tunnel – through to 1966 and beyond – all stations are stations of possibility – in this Lovesummer of Explosive Peace and bright joy – revisiting the pastown like Marley’s Ghost, Marcus’ Ghost, Garvey’s Ghost, and all the ghosts of Pengersick’s wizard-haunted towering realm, espied afar overseas, far over tramor and trasna na dtonnta – this Keltek tin-town tin-pot real – look and learn it… old newspapers – all the styles that have gone – yesterday’s modernity – faded futurism and peeling paint on boutique doors and discotech tactile touchstones – all is revealed in the streets of archaic and lichen-crusted granite and in the faces of those you meet – reality unfurls its banner and rattles replete –

Metheven howlyak scorches the pavements on the south-facing hill, the nettley hill over the Cober – June sun sears streets and blue azure dark dome broods happily with sparkling light-points- pointillism come to life in impressionistic drowse – nothing changes too much here, I stuck my head round the door of the dark and cavernous inn to see that naught had changed too much, except for the bairns running around – playing in the drunken footfalls of ghost-monks from the 13^th Century – the Bewlay Brothers blasting from a teenage tape-player, sunshine- sunshine – fields of the sun-

and all this shot through with great truths I have yet to imagine-

ΣΑΝ ΕΓΥΡΙΖ' ΑΠ' ΤΗΝ ΠΥΛΟ, 1935, ΣΤΡΑΤΟΣ ΠΑΓΙΟΥΜΤΖΗΣ

 

ΔΕΝ ΜΠΟΡΩ, ΜΑΝΟΥΛΑ Μ' (ΓΙΑΤΡΟΣ)_Μάρθα Φριντζήλα

Κοντούλα η βλάχα στα βουνά-Αλεξοπούλου Ντίνα

Ο καιξης - Χατζηχρηστος- Βαμβακαρης

ΧΑΜΕΝΟΙ ΑΓΓΕΛΟΙ - 1948 (Χιώτης-Εσύ 'σαι η αιτία)

Irie!

Dul Siar Dul Siar

Lightning strikes when Yin meets Yang.  A boiling sea convulses and a new land arises.  The True and The Beautiful make a road through Space.  

ZHTIAΝΟΣ ΤΗΣ ΑΓΑΠΗΣ ΓΕΩΡΓΑΚΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ ΙΩΑΝΝΑ.(1946)

mitsakis psili vrohoula epiase

ΜΗΤΣΑΚΗΣ ΨΙΛΗ ΒΡΟΧΟΥΛΑ ΕΠΙΑΣΕ

ΠΟΥ ΣΟΥΝΑ - ΓΕΩΡΓΑΚΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ - ΧΙΩΤΗΣ

ΔΕΝ ΜΕ ΣΤΕΦΑΝΩΝΕΙΣ ΜΕ ΓΕΛΑΣ Ι ΓΕΩΡΓΑΚΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ

ΚΑΤΕΡΙΝΑ ΘΕΣΣΑΛΟΝΙΚΙΑ ΓΕΩΡΓΑΚΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ -
ΠΕΡΠΙΝΙΑΔΗΣ - ΤΣΙΤΣΑΝΗΣ

Dul Siar, Dul Siar........

Sideways Time Ripple

Changing perceptions of a forest wilderness - 

the years come and go - bringing new trees, new views, new creatures - how pleasant to sit alone in the forest, watching the years and the winds blow by.

  Watching the big fly jump on the little fly - watching the burs that stick to my glove - watching the long fly stand on the water - watching the water pour from the jug - light leaf flickers through droner - 

Big fly foot-wringing wing-warp - glas yw an ebrenn lemmyn - howlak ha brentynn hedhyw -  Ticky-Dyw ha bran-vrawze yn gwyd yw - gwynjak zephyrs puff from drowzy oceans - and lattitudes are sunken in the golden -

                                                                           *

  The raven and the butterfly - 

a most peculiar pair - ha tonnek yw an mor - and surge the slatey waves - 

https://www.youtube.com/user/floydyopz
the raven honks his hornbill beak, hidden in the trees -

Who are you said The Caterpillar

Other Worlds are available.  Various realms are on offer.  Alternate sagas are waiting to be written.  Which story are you living?  What tracks are you leaving?  And of your dreams, what be them?

Hey, why not print out some flyers and spread the word about The Caterpillar?

 

A poster for a wall in your town.....

The Caterpillar, the paper that asks, Who Are You?

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

Dasson Kledhek

Heaven is where you find it -

flying with a flock of fluffy baby wrens

through a foxglove hedge - 

heaven in mistyc rain.

Look all around you!

This month's dub version is clear and colourless, so you can print it out and colour it yourself, in the colours of your dreams.
Then you can photocopy and distribute your own version of the Caterpillar Dub, thus stunning friends and strangers alike with the audacity of your gelatinous spontaneity.








http://www.woodyguthrie.org/merchandise/woodyciscoandme.htm

Take it easy, but take it!

Scratch ‘n’ Sniff Special Issue Caterpillar May 2016

Some papers you can read, some papers you can hear, but there’s only one paper that you can actually smell – yes, it’s The Caterpillar Special Scratch ‘n’ Sniff Issue, coming to you from The Invertebrate Press, just down-wind from your local Oll Factory.  Other publishers may choose to neglect and deprive your senses – we prefer to entertain them…..

Strawberry Fields Forever – The Beatles

ΟΥΖΟ, ΧΑΣΙΣ, 1935, ΡΟΖΑ ΕΣΚΕΝΑΖΥ

ΧΑΣΙΣ...