The Luminous Three

From out of the mouth of the Caterpillar pours silk - From the mouth of the whale pours amber - from the lips of a tiger pours a roar that rounds the world to reach the ears of a faraway girl -
But in another land - in another time - in another realm of understanding - something else unfurls and shines its emanation -

The Laughing Choughs of the Feathery Roads of the Sky

Fashionably late here is last month-s edition of The Amazing Caterpillar Dub - The World-s Most Popular Newspaper!  Oh yeah!  

Pyrrhocorax pyrrhocorax - Fire-Crow fire-crow

Well they Do say - - -



Wheal Roots - The Greensplat Jynn-Kebber and other Underground Ephemera from Kernow (aka Cornwall)



μπουζούκι

Yellow Shamanism and the Cargo Cults of Polynesia - A critical overview of polytheistic syncretism across the eastern hemisphere

The Caterpillar drools with relish contemplating the cultural exchange of expressions of human spirituality amongst the tribal peoples of central Asia and the Pacific Ocean -  Stridulating with the iron-rigor of the crystal carapace the luminous lepidopteral lavae looms large afore me like a quilin come to roam the land in times of great auspicious happenings and mass luminary visionings -  With quick and flicking movements of crisp rattling antennae the Primordial Lavae transmits suchforth lore and knowledge to the teeming world - ever-hungry for Mystery - 
Such is the fish that breams are made of and eye for one nose it -
Myriad many-faceted jewel-like eyes of lepidopteral-wonderment shine bliss and bubbling humour through crystaline antennae via the quivering wavelength of psychic-Chi - 
The countless hands of the Carapaced-One hold quixotic angular and eliptical parchments - tablets and scrolls that hold more juice than all the rantings of the Babylon-media many-tentacled squid-monster - Subduing the babble of deluded dwarves from the City of the Somnambulists the Caterpillar calmly goes about his way - rippling with delight - blissful in reverie and resplendent in iridescent molecular regalia -

or so they say anyway - - - 
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_shamanism

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

Fresh breeze breathes leaves and flows

Fresh breeze breathes leaves and flows - rustles greens and goes - something moving in the trees - something moving in the night - consciousness flickering to and fro - just the prana-wind that does blow - 

If I-s a lizard in the spring I-d hear the cuckoo sing -

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 - 

Out Of The Cocoon

Street scenes of the everyday night – Phone-boxes of the street-corner hook-up – Phones off the hook and hangs dangling by the wire – Carriages rattle past oblivious to the pathos of the scene – Here-s where – tendrils whirling – I have had the melting experiences of meeting the Caterpillar – encountering the entity face to decapodic face – Katapliktkos and simultaneously cataleptic this beast flowed with a natural rhythm that defied artifice and nullified the bourgeois mind in one fell swoop -  This Caterpillar was the repository of myriad untold dreams from many creatures of many aeons and epochs of singular collective popular and universal flow and human surge through time-s tapestried halls and space-s unfathomable caverns – the lucky beast!  
Well luck was with the humans too as the gifts of caterpillactic knowledge culture and science would soon be spread amongst – disseminated among and generally bestowed upon a seething and pullulating species of monstrous dream-primate sometimes known as Homo sapiens sapiens – the thinking man-s ape –

Dreading that forces unfavourable to the transmission of these cultural treasures were at work – pitting their unwholesome strength into an attempt to thwart the Caterpillar-s work – he reacted by spinning a cocoon of activity – changing form and occilatory-rate – seeming to become more aethereal yet palpably sentient and present – almost human – no – much more than human – and so capable of seeing into the human heart – the human body and blood – the endocrines and adrenalin – the biological underlay that has such influence on the constitution and thus on the typical thought-process – He could observe all these things with his sweeping – scanning antennae and drink in the essence of any activity to which he was exposed –

Plankton-papyri and ambergris archives were opened and revealed by the hundred feet and the swirling papillae – namely the psychic-antennae but fundamentally he would work by direct-communique – he could talk straight into your mind – thus eliminating the need for the crude semaphore of flapping lips and tongues – the monotonous music of the human voice was obsolete and seemed unutterably primitive once he had established the direct method and cut out the middle-man of verbal verbosity -  Such things as happen in red public phone-boxes at midnight in the main streets of Kernouac towns – namely in Pendoze – a quiet little place by the sea where nothing much ever happens – a cobbled hobgoblin hovel huddling high on ramparts of steel-slate pewter skies -  

                                                                                    *

{For your mini Caterpillar chapbook simply print - fold and cut as previously instructed - a video will appear on this one day - meantime - if you-re stuck - ask your kids!}

                                                                         *

Feel like I-m under water – like I-m in a trance and I can-t wake up – My mind is blunt and I can-t wake up -  Handel bludgeons me unconscious with his ancient formal-garden layouts - lead-lethargy is aemic and osseous - invading the body with its insidious weight - puling as gravity pulls and wrapping bladder-wrack around me ankles as I stumble and tumble in slumber I wander and seek and search and wonder still with head aloft unto the sky and to the stars my eye doth shine a twinkling reflection of all this - of all this -

All twinkled in the eye of a reflective movement like the birth - life and explosive death of a vast Universal System - a Tri-Chilocosm - a Maha-Loka - Births coming and going and exploding and popping like thoughts - The thoughts of an ant - The thoughts that fill the head that fills the aunt-s hat - The ant-s heart and the hart-s panting breath - Breathess entranced - the Arhat has no thoughts -

                                                                                       *

Inexhaustible realms of consciousness - States of mind - programmes - mental-worlds - mind-sets - beliefs - feelings - feelings - feelings - feel - 

                                                                                        *

Death-s Little Imps come and tap you on the shoulder - Mini-deaths - deaths miniaturized and minisculed - death-hints delivered by the Imp Servants of the Skeleton Lord - A bony finger taps you on the clavicle - "You haven-t got forever you know - 
What do you think you-re doing ~  
What do you think you-re doing~" 



Phenomenal flow radiating through the tangible part of the universe - atomic poetry unravelling into molecular chemistry and cellular biological entity - Hallo human - please step forward - you-re on -     It-s your show - You are the star - it-s yours - all yours - your world - take it - take it easy but take it - take it back to the source and shake it - take it to the shiny void - to the misty cloud - to the starry sky - take it away and sing it to life - offer it life and reflect on it -
Ravens and crows have plenty to say -

The last thing you need is more words in your head - but have some anyway - just in case you do - Anything is better than serious media - a squawking crow is a refreshing sound after you-ve enjoyed the sound of ten thousand fiddles steeped overnight in maple-syrup by demented goatherds  - punctuated by the percussion of krogens - carapaces - cocoanuts - goat-skulls - tongueless bells and drums that don-t stick - The sound of falling earth is sweeter than any radio and the sea has more to say than ten million monkeys all chanting the words of Shakespeare - Chaucer and Dickens - So in the light of these revelations you can follow this trail back to the realm of the Caterpillar!

A Cloud Of Luminous Fog

We interrupt normal programming to make way for the voice of the caterpillar - 
The Caterpillar Dub is the echo of the voice of The Caterpillar - 
Please listen to these dub-echoes and observe the fusion of struggle and song as a caterpillar nudges its way into the realm of the limpet - nature is a constant re-balancing and adjustment - sometimes with great fundamental upheavals - Who would ever have thought The Caterpillar would be allowed to muscle in on The Limpet with such audacious temerity!  Mind you - Caterpillars do have over four thousand muscles - considerably more than you - oh puny human-thing!  So unscrew your political head and replace it with the cloud of luminous fog that a poet thinks will pass for a head and head on into the realm of the super-gorwir Caterpillar Dub - Dub - Dub - Dub - Dub - 

This goes out to The Ghost of Sid Vicious - forever leaning on the corner of Alexandra Road outside the Garden after the Sex Pistols played Penzance - Sid died at 21 - We must all die - even caterpillars have to wrap themselves in a cocoon of their own actions and melt into a fearless and featureless sludge - poor things!  Some of these foolish caterpillars even like to comfort themselves with the illusion of reincarnation - Obviously just their egos that can-t handle the obvious fact of their own extinction - - - - bla bla bla -  
Anyway I-m locked out of The Caterpillar Blogspot so meantime and for the foreseeable alltime The Invertebrate Press will be using this here website for artistic and political purposes and you-ll simply have to accept the juxtaposition of the two different halves of my brain - I expect it will be great fun for us all so let-s just shut up and get on with enjoying it shall we ~  (Oh I don-t know what happened to Johnny-s ear but it didn-t look like that on the night!)

Global Awareness Month

– A Thirty-Day Telluric Contemplation
As you might know - I-ve been celebrating A Month Of Global Awareness by carrying the globe around with me everywhere in an "open-carry" style - The echoes of this global-dream leached out from my dreamy head into the dream-heads of others - 
The Month Of Global Awareness kicked off on 31st January - the night of the Blue Moon - with a concert at Redwing Gallery - and a few more clips from the show have surfaced - thanks to my pal Allan - Songs featured are Man Of Constant Sorrow  (Traditional American) -  White Man In The Hammersmith Palais by The Clash - Panic In Detroit by David Bowie and I-m Set Free by The Velvet Underground -

Meh - songs mainly failed to upload - probably just as well  :-)
might try again later!  If not I-ll be singing them in the street
when it hits about 68 fahrenheit - - -  out to make a shilling -

Once the 45 quid jangly Les Paul Copy finally subsided into an erie silence and the Month of Global Awareness was launched good and proper - one of the main developments to come out of the experiment was in the realm of archaeology - Considering that the "open-carrying" of the gobe was an open-ended free-spirited free-form experiment - almost devoid of plan altogether it-s significant to me that the main event of the month was the discovery of The Druid-s Throne (or rather perhaps it-s rediscovery!)  and a wonderful menhir (longstone) I discovered two days ago on 24th February 2018 - My daughter has named it The Menhir Of The Setting Sun -  Check the previous issue of The Caterpillar which you can see on The Temporary Realm Of The Caterpillar Page on this very site!

Here-s a tiny clip of some menhirs above Madron - from autumn 2017:
Boswarva Carn Settlement Madron Kernow Britain

http://yecaterpillar.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/boswarva-carn-settlement-madron-kernow-britain.html
More on Boswarva here - 

The World Ends At St-Just 
A Lesson In Basic Awareness - 
1)  Remember - It gets quite windy up west - so - - -

2) Never take your eye off the ball - - -

- - - or you-ll end up with a ruptured globe!  

Globey slunk off to a phone-box after that to seek legal advice!

The Atomic Wind captured by the Impressionist Camera

Union of Consciousness and Matter - a moment of awareness -

Great Uncle Ingolf as Hamlet contemplating the skull of Yoric - Alas!  Death Comes Without Warning!  For I am Death - None can excell - I-ll open the doors to heaven or hell - - -

They-ve landed!

It begins - - -

With Bronze-Age menhir on an ancient track from Carn Bosavern to Koth Valley -

At the Koth Valley (aka Mastadon Central UK)

At The Druid-s Throne 24:2:2018 - Awarth idhyowek menhir yw

In the picture above the globe sits atop what I suspected to be a fallen menhir -   just above The Druid-s Throne (See previous issue of The Caterpillar) - The globe wears a garland of Sticky Weed - proof of The Return Of The Spring -

Here we see the menhir half-clothed in a skirt of ivy






Starting to show through - This prehistoric beauty stood here around fifteen hundred years before Jesus was born - - -

Forgive the ten-year-off date-stamp - One day I-ll figure out how to get rid of it!  I didn-t want to trim down the picture and snip the nose of this fine megalith -  We are looking at the base - It tapers up towards the far end very gracefully -  The illuminated face which lies towards the setting sun is completely flat - in contrast to the gentle and typical curvature of its obverse side -  The piece also features the characteristic rising and falling cracks featured on so many of these objects - This one also has groovings that would run parallel to the ground when the stone was planted - Overall length: something over eight feet - Weight:  Heavy -

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

I-m Set Free – Velvet Underground   

I was born in Texas - Raised in Tennessee - If you don-t like my peaches -
Don-t rattle my tree -


Brilliant Adventure – David Bowie

For in this World I have to ramble -

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 -