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"With Wand'ring Steps"

The world was all before them
Where to choose their place of rest
And Providence their guide
They, hand in hand, took their wandering steps
And slow through Eden
Took their solit'ry way.
-
Milton, last lines of Paradise Lost

THE DEFILED SANCTUARY

I SAW a chapel all of gold

That none did dare to enter in,
And many weeping stood without,
Weeping, mourning, worshipping.

I saw a serpent rise between
The white pillars of the door,

And he forced and forced and forced
Till he the golden hinges tore :

And along the pavement sweet,
Set with pearls and rubies bright,

All his shining length he drew,
Till upon the altar white

He vomited his poison out
On the bread and on the wine.

So I turned into a sty,
And laid me down among the swine.

Desire for truth is a constant restlessness of Spirit and a spur towards growth and regeneration.

"...For three years now,taking strength from time,
Like a name engraved in the bark of a tree,
Her memory sinks more deeply into me."

- Nerval

I walked by the shore and the churning sea was a presence as incomprehensible as God to me.
I had often thought of love as the impossible longing to provide a shelter within our hearts
for those other bewildered sailors , a face in the darkness, a beacon of light through the fog of life.
HUmanity was our gift to each other , an unfathomable yes drawn from the wells of our very life.


Yes ,Through our love we pressed the implacable face of humanity into the stones of the earth and time.
and we drew the lines of our countenace perpetually in the sand even as the waves bore them away.

To live is to answer death in our own language, to speak in our own voice, to have courage to hold fast
to the song of our own voices. In living, we place trust in the voices of our own souls in intercourse with each other.
In love, we recognise what we ourselves are, in this recognition we redeem ourselves before the stars and the waves
and the sky.

yet, as i walked , i saw that
The ocean is its own unity , a resounding motion adored by every fragment of sand, an impossible liquid ideal.How
sad to be an angelic piece of sand, forever seperate from its great love, The sea!

And yet beyond all this,
Is it not our own very human madness to feel compassion for every bounded thing, be it a grain of sand?


I had often thought this way as i looked into the eyes of animals - is not the animal in a prison of its own mute awareness? Is it not
an unbearable sadness to be animal, sealed in the vault of life like an ant in amber?
What an unbearable sadness that must be, to dream restlessly from birth to death and never once
awaken from the dream.

A Love Poem
-----------

I wish to lift you
To the highest height my love,

The birds will kiss your brow.

All will be well.
All will be well.

Let us reach the pinnacle of the dream together,

And look into each others eyes
Before we fall.

Let us love one another and behold our souls
Before the end.

Philosophy is just an expression of revulsion at that great Idol, the
Division of Labour and its slow dismemberment of the soul of Man in the
name of Progress.

The eye which weaves the day
With glances
Unfurls its stare upon the
Blue wind of the sky.
Yet immensity and vastness
Are mere borders of
The small and graspable.
And our arms fall to our sides
Unable to hold the ball of
Heaven.

God I'ma gloomy bastard
From an old notebook:


This world
Which tears the veils of life away,
Sundering form from form,
Dissolves into the night of the past
The sweet echoes of all our joy.

Tonight at noon, tonight at noon
When we meet in the midnight hour,
I will bring you night flowers (coloured)
Like your eyes
Tonight at noon, I'll touch your hand
Held for a moment amongst strangers
Amongst the dripping trees"

The Jam, Tonight at Noon

"12. The Light of my Life is as the light of two moons, one rising and
the other setting, one increasing and the other waning; the one growing fat
as the other groweth lean, like a paunchy thief sucking dry a skin of amber
wine. Yet though the light of the first devoureth the light of the second,
nevertheless the light of the second disgorgeth the light of the first, so
that there is neither the desire of light nor the need of light ___ all
being as a woven twilight of day and night, a madness of mingling moons.
Yet I behold!"
- THE TREASURE-HOUSE OF IMAGES (crowley?)

I feel like this all the time.

Memory

I was walking to the bus stop to go to university. A sunny day in suburbia.
The bus pulled up just as I passed the old man sitting at the stop, who seemed
more intent on his paper than the bus. I climbed up the steps and made my
way to my habitual spot on the backseat and looked around at him again
and saw that he was actually a bit of a tramp. I could see now that the paper was in fact
fish and chip paper, and he was eating the slabs of fish with his fingers. And as the bus
finally pulled away, I saw that in truth he had no hands at all and was using his two
stumps to hold the fish up to his mouth and eat.

Is it not the case that when kindness falls across the face of a monster, it becomes grotesque and yet more monstrous?

Test post from python.

Lyrics to Espers, Riding:

We've been riding all night and the skies that diminish are right to be known
We've been finding insight in what we knew to be right from the day we were born
Every day is the last, only further in time from the will of the past
So we circle and strive and reverse when we drive so we'll never arrive

We were silent before, but we're not anymore, now we'll even the score
We'll describe and dissect every secret effect that lay hid behind doors
There was time in the past to precribe or outlast all that cluttered and cast
A dispiriting light through our shallowing nights soon will never be right.

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hmm, a gorgeous song

This is one of the most beautiful songs I think I've ever heard.

I love the sinuousness of this.

"You are the excrement which fell on the Earth through the Devil's anus."
- Luther.


Gotta love religion ..