I Could Tell

God baby another hit?
I don’t know if you could stomach it
Do you know how high you are?
I’m looking up and wondering;
If I’d catch you when you fall
Or if you’ll go right through my arms

Day dreamin, day scheming,
Got my whole day planned
And you’re fucking it up again
Alright alright alright with it sure I am,
I’m with Alice in wonderland
Got some space dust and a watering can that can’t sleep,
And a lot of beautiful dogwood flowers
And a clock that refuses to tell time,
As it Screams be you,
anything forced on you isn’t true.
And I’m all about it baby,
I yell back, you’re true blue heaven,
If it’s not here on Earth
It got to be in the next hit
One more and I swear we’re back swirling again to the other day dancing bachata in the Dominican turning heads on the dance floor of your perfect order
But there is no order, it’s all random
And you must be somebody’s baby,
Got to be, the only light?
Way too many stars in the sky to pretend that that’s the true,
And to the moon, from there it all looks the new, to two inches from your face nothing changes – but dam that’s some space!

Got a new paycheck that says I can do whatever I want, but it doesn’t work like that so I burn money in the back room with my coat on

Gold was never my color, but that’s not your fault. I wear it well, a crown I will have until time removes it; I built a kingdom, and within it I erected this temple so that when I need to sleep I can crash in the pews. Yeah the type of shit we do, here is where Hozier really meant to take him-and it’s funny because in here you’re taking me. I’m the fucking, Jesus I won’t say that while we fuckin’ – but I was born sick and I love it.

Conversation on Magic

How much do you think of our existence… is in our heads – the adage “mind over body”

Interesting question. In some sense, it’s ALL in our heads, since we cannot experience anything that we do not perceive through our nervous systems.

On the other hand, theory of mind suggests that there ARE other beings outside of myself, who have minds of their own that are ALSO perceiving.

So there must presumably be *something* that’s outside our heads.

And similarly, effects such as gravity, mass, inertia, etc. seem to hold true regardless of what I think about them. I cannot disbelieve gravity and thereby learn to fly, so again, it can’t ALL be in our heads.

…Or at least, it cannot all be subject to the “mind over body” whims of my conscious being.

I do think that the mind can do amazing things with the body that we don’t tend to realize are possible

as far as controlling rocks outside of the body though… the natural laws as you say… that’s another story

I agree.

Your reference to “rocks outside the body” reminds me of something I saw written by “Michael Faust” at one point. A story about how a rock fell near him…

Anyway, what leads you to ask?

Conscious thought patterns, and recognizing them as they run rampant and out of control, and failing to keep the field in my mind weed, weed free

& then noticing what I can achieve when taking the time to will it to happen

& the positive outcomes of feeling more willful

Right on. I will say that I experimented with magickal workings enough in my younger years to know that there seems to be some kind of mechanism that connects will to manifestation.

How much more efficient is someone when you let them know they matter, that you believe in them.

same goes for the mind ^


Any drag on the craft will keep it from flight

It’s definitely possible to reduce the drag, at least

Right! and the limit? well no one knows for sure where it is, but it gets closer and closer to a special number probably

For a while. off and on, I’ve had my writings dip into the idea of magic and mind and how there is something within – usually in a deep sleep for most, however some can feel it stirring, and suppress it their entire lives

I think thoughts and mythos can impact it in different ways, as each believes

I think there’s truth to that

It takes a form you give it

One interesting idea that I read about that kind of thing is: you can think about those mythos elements as externalized entities and forces — beings with which you as a magick worker engage, like Elementals, Fairies, Angels, or whatever–AND you can just as validly think of those elements as internal aspects of your own consciousness, that you tap into within yourself.

The model you use depends on what you need.

I Like that.

I think (assume) it was from Robert Anton Wilson

Having more knowledge about how everything works is fantastic as well, because magic in my thoughts is a visualization process; a focus of will

So you can not know enough about things and it will be harder to accomplish

Yup. My focus shifted away from magick (externalized) and more toward will (internalized) over the years.

For me, understanding my will and making sure that it corresponds to my true values became the most important effort I could pursue.

And it requires a lot of knowledge– about myself, as well as about my assumptions and projections.

This has to become a writing

I agree with that so much

What I said DID become a writing. Free Will: A User’s Guide. 🙂

I read it years back! I don’t think I was mature enough in focus to comprehend it fully

It’s probably not as well-written as it could have been, but basically I was trying to describe my thinking process.

And there were probably more than a few of my own projections sprinkled through it, as well.

I think it should be noted that much of the will’s determination can be corroded away by the modern trappings of society

hence that deep slumber within a lot of folks

They just don’t recognize it’s existence fully

Indeed! Social conditioning can separate a person from understanding their own will

and what they understand it to be capable of is stunted

then it becomes a retraining

an awakening and reconnections

because having the words, the knowing, isn’t the same as performing it


the synapses have to be paved

it takes then, the WILL to focus and accomplish it

the same will men used to build railroads through mountains or sail across vast oceans with no map, alone the desire to reach new lands

Yes. And I think if you’re doing it right, there’s really nothing else you CAN do. You gotta be who you are, and that means knowing your true will and manifesting it.

It’s a matter of being genuine, not playing a game.


and that can be the trouble today

because we know sometimes we hold to a certain ideal we want

and the things we have can tear us from what we know we should be

work for some can be very political… which makes being self hard

That’s true….which is why I generally eschew leadership roles.

I put my ideas and my approach on the table, and people can “follow me” or not, but I’m never going to play a role for anyone.

I’m going to be who I am.

That made the whole Cypher thing seem ridiculous to me, last year.

And it explains why I’m still around the “********** community” in spite of all that shit. It’s just who I am.

Not trying to create an image, or play a role, or pretend I can give anybody wisdom or secrets or anything. I figure whatever insights people might get from encountering me are their own.

Not mine.

That’s pretty much why I link with you, as genuine of a person as I can tell

Thanks. As you can no doubt tell from what I’ve said, that’s what matters to me.

Perhaps There Is Flesh To Be Found Here

We talk about ruins. We hear the echos of empty hallways made for ceremony. And see melted candle wax dripped down the walls, and spilled all across the floors. Something grips this place; An air that stands in the way of those who wants to pass freely. It warns us with shivers down our spine – An almost familiar kiss to our ears and necks. We walk through ruins, and don’t tend to think much of it. Not everyone has the kind of grit, and righteous indignation it takes put the spirits at ease. You want to know this place, its’ pangs, what harmony it deserves to find; You step soft in reverence as if intending to compose a hymn with your innocent discovery.

Are they ours? No, we can’t claim things as alive as this; They are too hard to read. You laugh and say perhaps the dirt might glow, even shine in a jar! I too think and feel this. I can’t help but be eager to try given your childlike enthusiasm – We will have to bring a jar the next time. But I imagine before too long we’ll be picking up handfuls of dirt; Letting it run from our hands, while we take a seat on the earth, and trace the courtyard stones; Stones laid here for us to touch, in ways that we must listen to nature to learn of. We sit quiet for a moment, and the wild comes. Still is the air, but I know how fun you get when you speak with your animal tongue.

There is a spirit to it all, a mind to the matter, and none of it can be solely ours outside of responsibility to what we choose.

Foresight & Fortune Telling

Do you know how hard it is to see around the corner from 20 meters back?
And now you’re talking about what’s around the bend from here! You make me collapse at the dinner table with laughter, when you go on about the people you’ve had the pleasure of meeting; Some of them are characters I want to put in my books. I doubt I ever will though. I’m always busy acting like I’m too busy to make progress on the story. It would really be a great one, and we know it. Some things you really can see before you go over the cliff. It isn’t a good idea to jump off after this one, since you’d find that unlike your fall, the pages stop about halfway through. If you went up high enough though? You might be able to catch the next installment; I’ve still got breath don’t I baby? So I’m still penning.

I haven’t seen you, I haven’t seen you in – How long has it been?
in a year or maybe ten – It might be ten this August or February;
but it all fits. Whatever the number, It always does,
with us. Yes, we’ve always had snug compositions.

So, gasp – you’re looking blue, ravishing too –
gasp as I kiss you over the waterfalls and down the river ways;
across my seas of mere abandon; I find a seat next to you.
You are sitting right here and I can touch you, as thick as a fog you can’t see through
and we are silent. Absolute, ear ringing silence permeates the veil.
like we’ve been waiting for a better time to speak! Like we’ve been;

All these years in dark undergrowth and canopy layers that a fire would find itself quenched by before anything could burn, all these years spent smoldering, like the last flame has gone out; but we’ve survived
and you don’t need to speak. You didn’t, nor do you, have to say anything,
for me to hear you. Without words my answer was given.

Tomorrow, we’ll part, as we all always do. This is just the ship leaving port. We usually talk about how wild and fantastic it is to make land elsewhere after times spent on the water. It’s nothing dire. It’s nothing we haven’t handled before; It’s just our infrequent pastime – I wouldn’t call it a holiday – but if it was a date I’d mark it.
And again, no tears, no remorse. In a year. Or ten. In another corner, of another world, perhaps in one of the books I’ll leave at a spot I like to frequent, or someplace entirely familiar to forego all that telling;

Our love will
find its way again

I’ve always had a telling for everything,
and it isn’t gold that is in your dreams.

Our Body Is Full of Organs

It’s a peculiar thing. So much surrounds us, we take so much in; Still it does not see fruit

I could sit here for hours dissecting and pulling different parts of my viscerals out onto the table. We’d need a bit more counter space for everything. I don’t even remember consuming half this shit. Most of it sprouted up out of necessity. Okay, that’s entirely not true. Less than a quarter is out of necessity, the rest is out of longing. If I’m honest I could probably think back to when that seed started growing.
I haven’t always been the ideal gardener. Flowers shouldn’t be the only thing to result from working in the soil. A balance of stem and space! There are geometries to it! I ignored the weeds, and now I’m going to pay with a lifetime of tired bones. If someone grinds them up after, they would make great nourishment for the roots to start again.

Isn’t that exactly the hopefulness we come into the world seeking? Not many things can accomplish that hunt. An arrow takes a lot of intimacy before you can land it through the pride’s heart. Is it a struggle? Of course, but that kind of death is easier than most.

Our body is full of organs but we always feel so fucking empty


I’m Not Sure You Understand

Hands on her pelvis, telling me to do whatever I want;
Telling me to go at it and use you like you’re a rag.
I’m telling you I hesitate because there is a monster;
A wild animal that the man can’t control – Terrible
If the inhibitions get removed there’s no telling
The man is a complicated beast, conflict all underneath
The things you don’t see, the checks and balances,
The hungers within, baby I want it all, and I can’t run away.
So here we are and I’m feeding those demands

She asks what it is I write about, and I just tell her real shit, and made up shit;
So anything really. She laughs and I don’t see the joke, but fuck if I care at all.
The truth is I write about the people I fuck, and I wonder if I’ll ever feel enough

I think that she likes me, ignites me,
I ruined her study schedule in one night since she asked please;
They told me to take the safe route,
Well this is a detour – Caution to the wind
Can’t stop thinking about me and the late ride
That’s unfortunate,
because for me it was just an early morning traffic slam
And now I’m through, and cruising man

Nobody compares, nobody is you, so leave with that knowledge
because I’ve got things to do

Parents don’t like when you’re out getting pipe;
Working them late nights every night,
But I’m all about it baby

Baby I know Places

Come to this bed at night,
Turn the light down low,
I’m trying to understand my mind;
She wonders where it is I go.
Oh I’m destroying worlds,
As I drag the ink into words;
Wondering which way will burnish my soul;
When I see potential I got to see it through.

Baby I know places,
Places we can go – It’s been so long,
By now every tree knows;
Even before the wind blows.
Do you feel that chill?
Out here in the woods;
Who opened a window?
Oh I did, to get a look at your aura!
Yeah baby I know secret hideouts,
Black markets, and magic castles;
These spots we could really touch!
Places where the wild things go!
Places where they sit quietly and wait for snow,
Places they talk up the lightning bugs,
Places you can do whatever you want to!
Hit it how I want to,
Smack your ass and grab onto it;
Out and bad since way back when,
I know places we could get disheveled in,
Baby on some faded levels,
The stuff where the senses are melded,
Come down and find yourself on the ceiling;
Talk that freak shit and get it irregular;
I don’t have a map,
But my sense of direction always finds water

Leave me out here in these streets,
If you get the chance you know what to say
But time isn’t patient, it won’t wait.

Baby I dealt with the fall.
They don’t like me walking through the kingdom,
And if I can only have a little
I don’t need it at all
but don’t get me wrong
I’m not trying to compress it,
I want this to be light as the first kiss,
I mean after we stopped from the first to catch a breath.
Them hard kisses, and then I bite your lip;
Drag mine across your universe, down, down down,
I’m going to drink a case of you!
From planet to planet,
Till I find Starla at your center
And like Storm, call the weather.

The dulling of the senses; And the drawing of the emotions – Never take to archery when inebriated.


When You Sleep, Will It Be With Me

The hardest thing I’ve got to accept in my life is that my family’s choices are not me, they speak nothing of the value I hold, or how much  meaning is within me. I know they didn’t mean it. The choices they made were not because I am less than their personal drugs of the days and nights. I know these things, and I don’t want the intimacy I share with them to tear me apart. I want to stand tall without undermining my foundation. I want to breathe the hopeful sighs – After setting the pieces to heal – Where one steps back to let time do its’ part.

You know the days; The one’s where I’m so sure. So certain that I could walk right off the edge; And if I wanted to, come right back after going over like I’ve got control over the fabric of space and time.

I shake sometimes – It’s an anxiety I uncovered myself when I discovered I had been trying to pile things into a void – An emptiness I refused to admit existed for most my life. What do we do to accept ourselves? I’ve just been piling on logs every time I wake – Every time I rise a little quicker than the fears, just by a lick to see beyond them; I want my fire to burn hot; And well you know the passion I have, you’ve had tastes of the titian red illustrations I’ve thrown all over the walls. It’s entirely truthful, raw, but composed. It is honest. The most honest existence I’ve known; And when I begin to feel it spiral away, I just hold to the corners of the room hoping I can stay. It only makes it worse. They drag me down in the flames where I suffocate in smoke and ash.

I hate smoke, but it can really dance. I am no fan of ash, but it is something I must find comfort in if I want to kiss her embers; If I want to hold my own.

I’ve seen the blessings of a family there for you. A family that made each other feel loved. A family that gave you the concept of gold, and taught you it was nothing near as valuable as your flesh and soul. It is the most dam gorgeous thing, to be kept warm simply from a smile still going from the day they brought you home. I imagine the golden glow I’ll some day feel, when I finally get my own lit up.

When she told me I only snored once, I was proud and happy. My chest was all swelled. It was an incredible discomfort to consider that my presence could keep someone I slept so soundly next to awake at night.

Sometimes I find myself waking up excited, just to see her there next to me. I laugh gently with myself, I’ve got to do that – I’m like a child, awake and eager to see her open her beautiful eyes.

I practice laying silently for hours some mornings; Floating in and out of consciousness – So when she wakes, she might say she slept better than me. She really deserves it. And I try, I try; To be as mindful as I can, do all that I can so she knows she does.

There are nights where I feel her jump. She shakes. And I can only watch. I want to dive in and grab her hand, tell her she’s got it, it’s all okay, but I can only be there; Which in the long run is all anyone can be; And I know it means something when I feel her sleepily reaching for my arm, pulling me in to hold her.

I have slept well for a long time. I had to growing up. It was the only escape, the only reset on the day before. But sleeping well, and sleeping happy are different. And sleeping happy next to you, has shown me a better light to things.



I couldn’t help it

Look What Happened

What a dire responsibility to hold the wheel – I nearly dashed the ship up on the rocks. It wouldn’t be the first time though; Didn’t have a way out that round. Can I say I held on as strong as I could when you looked me in the eyes? Yes – The weak look away because it’s easier. I don’t believe the destruction really gets to me anymore. Do I prefer it? I can’t say I do anymore than the king who must remove a man’s head because the law is the law. I wish you could have kept your shoulders, but really you can’t go changing institutions. Just remember what can someday grow from the dirt – Magic is a patient thing.

I’ve been at this game of push and pull for a while, and I know how it goes – We both go down and when she comes up I might be thinking about you or 48 other people which doesn’t make it any more or less. This is just how we get through the pages of the story, it’s no different from what anyone before us rolled. No one escapes the revolving doors. Once our back foot leaves the dock, the ship sets off and we don’t ever come back. Magic is a forward moving energy, it never treads in reverse; It is always certain.

They tell me without a moments hesitation that I should do this till my end, that if I were to stop, the very act of not continuing would be punishable by death. It’s quite a paradox because to draw from where I do is already a sentence of the very abrupt type.

I swear I’ve got no filter, and the colors are starting to smudge – bleed – It’s all running.

Please wake me up before you go. I really can’t stand the scent of the lows, the empty places I’ve slumped into when I’m out. I need a little more, but time has allowed all that’s destined to be funneled in. Maybe there is some overflow; Magic leaves traces, spillage, all over the place. One just might be able to trace it back to the source.

I don’t think that I can control it –  I know I can

Why Are You Worried Bout Hell

There is nothing more exhilarating than the shared experience of joy,
of indescribable spur of the moment bliss that comes when the relationship between two things collide amongst the mass of neurons as a chemical cocktail of dopamine and serotonin.

A bed for sanctuary, much like the temple within you. Are you drunk yet? Have you wet your tongue?  You’re not quite prepared to pour, let us hold off for a moment longer. What can we find at your alter? Tube rose attar, protection for your secrets – Sub rosa, be it safe. What more will we pick, a sprig of sage for healing times, dispel the ego and find your ground – Empty out all the things that passed, with courage you are what lasts. And as we peruse the slab, naturally light by candle is the seductive lure that draws us near, beeswax -burns pure – and dripped upon the surface, elicits what we have come for.

I, like you, have sought to make certain of some things – It has only lead us to pain.

I’m waking up my senses again – Fire is an effort, passion is a choice; The flames must be fanned or else they’ll die; Feed the fires or watch them go out. Quickly, pour some of the bottle I’ve been keeping, it’s exactly what is needed. Close your eyes while you do, if you can’t count the flow, then we’re going to have to lick it up, whatever it takes to get enough. You should feel it now all in the sang, blood & song. These things are connected like the root and the leaves; Further along we just taste from the bottle. I like the way you’re looking at me. Was there ever a doubt that we’d run out? Not that I could ever hear or see! Sing now! Let it all out – Breathe, breathe, the flow always moves to please, you’ve just got to ride with this, and the river’s rapids.

Why you worried bout hell,
When we living on Earth?

I am trying to keep myself out of harm, I just have a little untamed wild in me. Some stampede, some leaping faith intuition; Some full moon howls and strong wind spirits.