Occult Fan

Master no Self

Lulling Byes

so sing me to sleep

where this day I will die

soothe me like a mother

your sweet last lullaby

kiss me with care

it’s ok for us to cry

not everything is perfect dear

much less you, far less I

so bury me in roses

pearls, teeth, and sighs

underneath this burning birch

where many men have died

take me in your arms

bury me beneath these tides

swallow me corpse, ocean of dirt

your dark final lullaby

all I could want

is to be a mirror in your eyes

sing me your song

soothe me while I bye


Christmas Chai-Choos

bright eyes and wisdom

belie eternal lessons

that cannot be taught


first picture of you

maiden and muse to lure

ocean to the moon


child’s toy lantern

play of shimmering diamond

sparkles the water


am I tricksy fox?

or foxy trickster? DELIGHT!

all life is a dance!


wild traveler

high priestess who sees beyond

walls that fools do build


kind and so aware

when time shall come to have passed

from Ma’at will rise


no broken machine –

care to hear my Samwise voice?

-nods the head three times-


Hey! I’m walkin’ here!

no time to worry right now

too busy building!


I fell off flat earth

now let’s watch tentacle porn

it’s my pet chemtrail


daughter of the earth

in my smile the wild wood

know what lies below


my looks may deceive

though easy, to real eyes that see

I am made of light


darkness is my dance

in my shadows I entwine

I’ll take you under


I carry deep within

the nurturing wisdom of

ten thousand mothers


space is an altar

archetypes play the lyre

shine on, secret sun


her loving guidance

big sister does take my hand

teaches me deep strength

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Lily Foxy Tango

Just give me your shimmer

Just give me your shine

Just give my your love

Just one more time


I know that you hurt

I know that you cry

I know that I’d stop it

I know you won’t try


A faint desire is not the rude discourse of the forbidden

The fact you fail is in your foundation of acting victim

A strength you could possess if you only pried

The prison is a treasure chest it’s the same for you inside


And you’re fading


A sweet desire, the will to turn right and run

The truth you gave up on your own future’s vision

A loss that cannot be recovered, and never denied

The sweetness you killed in the mirror before your eyes


Just give me your shimmer

Just give me your shine

Just give my your love

Just one more time


I know that you hurt

I know that you cry

I know that I’d stop it

I know you won’t try


On Selling One’s Soul

I know there’s a funny little game (for fame) that I could play play play


But I’m really not that game game game game game


No shame for the hunted, but that life is too shunted I’d rather live free with a moral responsibility


than to give it all away for a price that’s insane

Fiat Lux

Some quick thoughts on light, manifestation, society, and imagination, which of course leads to mass-consciousness.

That which is infomed in our mind, as Tool utilizes on Third Eye – fittingly – for the third eye is photoreceptive to higher information levels and datum – which in turn, as Eliphas Levi notes is what we use to manifest in this realm of third dimension –

Levi: “the imagination of the adept is diaphonous, whilst that of the uninitiated is opaque”. *

Intention surely matters as much as clarity – the latter denotes the ability for the lens to reflect the starlight, the former in to what the manifestation will bring, and with accordance, establishing in this realm either more liberation or more tyranny…

I consider myself a builder of light, and a bringer of light, but one that sheds the technocratic ‘grudge-like’ mentality of controlling ‘all and everything’ – in favor of a most-scientific and permaculture-based modality of well-being for our entire human family.

Not all is love and light unless it is true and pure – not some marketing mechanism nor that of social control and ManipuKation (manipulative education / ‘Hey, teacher! Leave them Kids alone!’).

I’m far more in favoure of teaching Transcendental Meditation to all children, and permaculture, and all the disparate world myths which combine in to one true world religion of Humanity.

I know there are the Brotherhoods of the Right and Brotherhoods of the Left. The Left hand paths will eat themselves, it is the only inevitable conclusion; Those of the Right ARE Correct and Right, and it is this modality of Lucifer of which I speak.

Tremble not and doubt not, this is the archetype form the ground up, up the mountain, in to heaven again – and that is enough for now, suffice to end with a Joseph Campbell quote, a warning of sorts, in the spirit of Nikola Tesla, in fact, and it is thus:

“What then is the Wasteland? It is the land where myth is patterned by authority, not emergent from life; where there is no poet’s eye to see, no adventure to be lived, where all is set for all and forever… utopia!”

True progress requires continual work, for what progress truly is, as Bilbo knows, is a journey and a return – a ‘return to innocence’, to nature, and to the paths tread by the TrueHearted.

and I’ll add https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCyj4_csGP4 so thanks to Pursuit of Happiness as well.

thanks to Charlotte C for that (her blog here http://alchemical-weddings.com/alchemical-weddings/the-mysteries-of-magic


P.S. This seems relevant – I’ll need to get my hands on this https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1ps33cv.9?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents


some times

the dark

just feels so right

even as

I hunt

for the light

try and care

as I might

plans tight

as broken locks

bodies broken

on the rocks

I haunt

for the light

some times

the dark

feels so right

Eyes Of The Sea

Note: I found this old emo poem, so here we go.


my eyes are

my eyes are hollow, and

and they are bleeding

my eyes are bleeding

the sweeping sea

can’t escape

can’t escape these

these haunting


I can’t see, no

I can’t be, no, and

my heart torn out

for all to see

just kiss me once

just once, it just may

just may be, if

touch, another’s touch

another’s touch will

could remind me, what

what it was

what it was like to be

loved – I once was, now

now that’s a dream, and


I can’t remember

I can hardly breathe

my bodies shaking, and

my soul is seized

I’m on the floor, with

with nobody, so

so cold and pale, I

I hear like I’m

under the sea, and

the nighttime roars, yea

the storm is blowing


in my door

no more

no more

no no more

no more

no more

no no more

just won’t be


I just can’t be

Psychotic Bereavement ~

I see your bitter testimony

the times you’re bent and hurt

I won’t take part in your gladfallensadness

I just

will move your body

til you feel real good

you are a woman

I am a man

and I’m your machine

I am a demigod


and for me you will come clean

Three Hares (Lucky)


Number three, Ricky –


This Steely Dan song off of Pretzel Logic (1974) begins using the sound of when the Lepus are about to attack… Chris L Knowles notes importance of opening tracks).


CERN etc spinning


water pot Solomon


dimensions veils glamours




demons? angels? aliens?


three rabbits multiplied


cube the equation


everything is illuminated


in this


unbearable lightness of being


when we’re spinning