VIET NAM

Am currently working in Vietnam. Have not written much for a while, but am trying to write some thing for my girl friend Thao.

Mortal Image

"... the error, and I admit it is not easy for spirits cased in flesh and blood to avoid it, consists in seeking in the mortal image the likeness of what perhaps is eternal."
P. B.Shelly.

Read that weeks ago and it has lodged itself in my mind. The human minds is always seeking the divine and the eternal in this world, the shadows of the Gods cast on this mortal sphere, and yet it is one of the greatest weaknesses of humanity that that our needs so often overwhelm our higher emotions. 

Excellent.

This amused me.

Bia Hoi

That thin line of grey grey
Shifted as I drank away
Another strange day,

Where mad harlots dance,
And blind men glance
At games of chance,

Beneath that stormy sky
Where Dragons fly
Between truth and lie,

That soul quenching Bia Hoi,
That soul-filled Hanoi.

Wrote this about Beer Street in Hanoi, rather miss the 'Nam, with its ceaseless tide of beautiful and charming maidens. Hope to go back next year. 'Bia Hoi' is traditional Vietnamese draught beer, bit like I.P.A. 
Do not yet have enough suitable poetry to put a book together, maybe next year. 

The Wine Flowed Like Blood

Planning to put together a book of poetry entitled 'The Wine Flowed Like Blood' with this as a preface;


'"Death is the Universe's way of telling you that you need to change."


The point of all this is that life is monstrous, but not without beauty. Life is brutal, sometimes cruel, yet sometimes Just, joyous or gorgeous. Life is passion and sacrifice.
There is light in the darkness.
And there is no end to it...'

Apocoliptic Flash Fiction- The Leader.

When I first met our Leader I knew dispair. 
It was meant to be an honour: to meet the Leader of the free peoples. 
It had been a long, hard war. Longer after we had ran out of bullets and harder after we had ran out of oil, but we had the Leader. 
The Leader sat in his tent, sword across his lap, studying a map. 
'The enemy press our eastern flank, shall we retreat?' his lieutenant enquired of him. 
'Noo!' bellowed the Leader. 
'As you wish,' the lieutenant continued, 'shall we send reinforcements?' 
'Yeah!' 
It was then that I noticed that the Leader's map was upside down. Still his dark eyes studied it. They were kind eyes, like an animal which knew peace. 
'And shall we continue our advance in the north?' 
'Yeah,' the Leader growled with conviction. 
Then I knew no more fear, for our Leader knows no fear, and he never will.

The Grave Yards of Kendal- Park Side Road Grave Yard

 The grave yard on Park Street is the largest in Kendal, with graves from the 19th, 20th and 21st centuries. It is situated next to the ruins of Kendal Castle. It is said to be maliciously haunted, and it is unreasonably easy to get lost in it at night. 

The Grave Yards of Kendal- Castle Street Cemetery.

Castle Street Cemetery has all you could ask for in a grave yard; a creaky iron date, a decrepit chapel, old grave stones at odd angles intermixed with tree stumps and ivy, and a resident Grave Yard Cat. All of the burials pre-date The Second World War. In short, it could be straight out of a H. P Lovecraft story.  

On Walking Through a Graveyard

We are not amongst the dead,
We are amongst stones and bones,
The dead are with their Gods and kin,
Or burning for some mortal sin,
Not with us in this yard of graves.

SAGA III

At Black Rock Port I asked of Wolfrik Wolfeater from the the first face I saw.
'Ask my father,' said she,' I'll lead the way.'
To her father's forge I went, where he beat iron with a steady hand.
'Do you ken Wolfrik Wolfeater?' I asked.
'Wolfrik Wolfeater who carried the day at Redgrass Field?' he asked from his work.
'Aye.'
'Who wreastled bears on Odi's Mountain?'
'Aye.'
Who seduced one hundred maids in but one moon?'
'Aye,the same.'
'Aye, I ken him, what man does not?'
'And is he at hand?'
'At hand? No, not for many winters. He dwells with King Erick, on Westdorn's Fyrd, where his hand never tires of his axe, and a woman-hoarde fills his bed.'
I went at once across the bitter blue sea, along the murder fishes way, beneath the thieving gull.

The heath fire and reed lights cast a mighty light upon the great strength of warriors who sat before a slaughter of boar, beef, and deer at King Erick's table.
Without pause, I made my way from the stout oaken door to the largest of men.
'Are you Wolfrik Wolfeater?' I asked.
'No,' he declared, 'I am Vali Small-Boast. Wolfrik dwells yonder- at King Erick's good right hand.'
I looked across the mighty length of timber where many warriors sat. I beheld the King, and I beheld his right hand.
A walrus man dwelt there.
His bulbus face red with drink. Dull eyes stared down a crooked nose. His filthy beard was home to countless scraps of food. The fire was extinguished from his hair,leaving only tangled grey.
Upon his epic belly, bone from his meals were piled. These bones he threw at passing thralls. He cackled- haglike- at this poor sport.
I had no further use for words that day.

I wrote my saga of Wolfrik Wofleater.
He fell bravely, where so many others fell, on Redgrass Field.

SAGA II

Long did I walk across the frozen fell. Hard ice paths and snow roads did I stride. Over ice-bridge did I cross Nordan Land River. Along troll-paths I braved Nordan Land Forest.
Then noble Grimi's hall was in reach. It stood, a forest of timber made immortal by the craft of men.
I strode through the broad door into the warm hall. There were benches fit for a hundred men, but it was upon an empty table that Earl Grimi and his delightful daughter sat.
'Welcome friend, what brings you to an old bear's den?' Earl Grimi called.
'My thanks, great Earl, I search for Wolfrik Wolfeater.'
The Earl stroked his long white beard, his daughter raised her pretty eyes.
'Sit friend,' Brunhilda- for that was the Earl's daughter's name- commanded.
'Aye,sit friend,' the Earl said. 'My secong task is to answer, but my first is hospitality. There will be mead, meat and bread.'
I sat, and there was.
'You will not find Wolfrik Wolfeater here.' the Earl began,' not since the old wolf was a pup and the great bear was a cub- knee high to a man. Since those golden days when he drank in my mead hall my warriors have all met Odin's daughters, and my family- save my daughter- have all fallen to steel, ice or fire.'
'Sad news, my Earl,' said I. 'You knew him well?'
'As a brother.'
'Would you tell me of him?'
'He was a bear of a man. His hair was fire and his eyes were iron... At the Battle of Cragg Thorn he slew fifty men. Five fell with each swing of his mighty Dane-Axe... How he laughed as he slew! He had the strength of an ox and the endurance of a wolf... The Valkyries were not lonely on that day... And in the drinking-hall- so bold and wise of words. And how he drank... enough to drown a whale!'
The old Earl grow exhausted from his friend-boasting.
'He was a man,' Brunhilda concluded.
I had heard saga building words, and I thirsted for more.
'Where might I find him?' I asked.
'They say he hunts whales at Black Rock Port,' Brunhilda said.
I made to go.
'Stay friend,' Earl Grimi said,' and hear how Wolfrik Wolfeater filled 'Hel at Redgrass Field...'  

The next day my legs took me across the hard white way, untill I reached an iron grey sea beneath a forge-fire sky. There I took an oar upon a trading shit, and laboured across the heartless, swirling sea.

SAGA

My name is Thorfast Skaldi and my purpose is to record the deeds of heros, in order to inspire those who might come after. But I was born too late. In the days of my grandfather,so I am told, there was no shortage of heroes. That is no longer true.
When my comrade Ulrik Weston fell at The Battle of The Rosie Hill, I thought it possible that my lifes task fell with him.
I knew of no great living man. This world is corrupted by the Christ-God and the hearts of men are corrupted by gold. The heroes are with Odin.
I knew not what to do.
Only the joys of mead and of women were true to me.

'... off his head, drank his mead hoarde, and laughed amid the ruins of his hall', the fat man said with pride.
'That is why one ought not to get between him and his women!' the tall man said.
'Aye!' the fat man laughed. 'Not if you like living!'
'Who do you speak of?' I asked them, for they sat opposite me in the merry mead hall..
'Who? Who?' the fat man cried.
'Who?' I repeated.
'He does not ken Wolfrik Wolfeater!' the tall man roared.
'Who is Wolfrik Wolfeater?' I asked.
'Who are you, who does not know Wolfrik Wolfeater?' the tall man asked.
My patients was tested.
'And why do you not ken and want to ken?' asked the fat man.
'I am Thorfas Skaldi and I would meet with this Wolfrik Wolfeater and add my saga words to his fame hoarde.'
'Wolfrik Wolfeater has no shortage of fame,'the fat man said sternly.
'But fame is like mead, a man can always have more,' I said.
'True words, well said,' agreed the tall man.
'Is he here in the hall?'I asked.
'Were he here in the hall he would have drank your mead and split your skull for your ignorance,' the tall man said.
'Have you women?' asked the fat man.
'No.' 
'Good', the fat man laughed. 'Had you women, they would have forgotten your carrion corpse and flocked to Wolfrik Wolfeater's bed!'
'Where is he found?' I ignored the insult for a greater need.
'Last I heard, he feasted and fought in the mighty long hall of Earl Grimiof Norden Land.

To be continued...

The Dreams Which Haunt Us

Painful dreams of dread

Raise us from the bed
Like the Godless dead,
Sweet dreams of delight
Pass away the night,
And add further bright
Illumination to daylight,
But dreams of passions past,
Of joys which could not last,
Half forgotten lips and eyes,
Half remembered hands and thighs,
Words spoken and unspoken,
Promises kept and broken...
Those are the dreams which haunt us.

Valkyrie

VALKYRIE

The Valkyrie
Who waits for thee
Tires not of that
Mead soaked orgy
She calls Peace,
She needn’t cease
Waiting your release,
When mortal fate,
Leads to that gate,
You call Death,

The Valkyrie

Who waits for thee,
She who can see
Much more than we
Through icy eyes
Like winter skies
Colder than lies,
Yet shining bright,
To banish the night
You call Death

The Valkyrie

Who waits for thee
Kens well infinity
Knows and loves eternity,
Her father’s hall
Has room for all
Who hear His call
To meet in slaughter
With His daughter
You call Death

Friday

Diamond twilight skies
Which are your eyes,
Give way to starlight,
In glorious night,
Where pure snow lyes
Upon a gracefull feild,
When rose petals weild
Influence on men's destiny,
That mocks eternity,
With undying memory,
After the sun's might
Has cleared lovely night
Of starlight's delight,
And made snow yeild,
Melted to dream, despite,
Fates long ago sealed.

Memories of Ice

Gazing at the virgin snow,
Or when sea winds bellow,
And ice-sea-blue eyes show
Memories of frozen fjords,
Treading bloody, icey boards
Of Dragonships that go
Where ever Nordic winds blow,
In search of saga hoards
Of glory's endless rewards,
And silver's fleeting glow.

WOLF-MOON

Full Moon summons from the chest
That Wolf-Heart which knows no rest,
Teeth barred against the world of men,
Howls devotion to Night and then
Runs, rampant, to the Moon,
Grasping Her, and to a wild tune
Dances with Moon and Night,
Till the fading of Her spectral light.

This was partly inspired by Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse, which everyone ought to read.

Arthur and Guinevere

Arthur and Guinevere

She met him in the spring time,

When the world was reborn,

He lover her in the summer,

When they could not betray,

She loved them in the autumn,

When their love was forlorn,

He forgave her in the winter,

When the world knew decay,

She met him in the spring time...

The Damsel of the Holy Grail, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Not sure if this poems finished yet. Am trying to say that every day, every year, every life holds an eternity within it, which is reserected endlessly.

THEORY OF WAR AS HUMAN SACRIFICE FOR THE CHANGING OF WORLDS, Part 4

Part 4

Only semantic arguements could disprove the idea that war is a world changing form of human sacrifice.
The point now is to consider the implications, and our part in them.
In which direction is the sacrifices of war leading the world?
The First World War dramatically weakened the European Powers,and contributed to the dissiolution of the European empires. It also led to the Russian Revolution, and the vote for women and social reform in Britain.
The Second World war was the defeat of Fascism by an alliance of Democracy and Communism. It furthered social reform and the loss of colonies in Africa and Asia.
The Cold War was the split of that alliance,a struggle between Communism and Capitalism. It ended in stale mate,and the moderation of policies on both sides.
The current conflict in the Middle East is likely to dramitically weaken all sides. At this time the economies of America and Britain are suffering, and the Taliban's casualties have been great.
It is clear that in the last hundred years war has led the world away from Imperialism and the direct oppression of the majority, and has been destructive to any fundermentalist forces involved.
Therefore the world changing human sacrifice of war has led away from Totalitarianism, Imperialism and Fundermentalism.
Reterning to an earlier theme, it has led away from the negative aspects of the Age of Pisces.
The future destination, however, is as yet unclear.
That is for us to decide.

P.S.
At present it is clear to me that the world began the change from Pisces to Aquarious in the 1840s, reached its climax between 1914 and 1945 and that the Age of Aquarious should be fully underway by the end of this decade. That ought to be a change from a world dominated by the the water element to one ruled by the Air element,and a change from the polar forces of the two fish of Picses to the balanced force of the grailof Aquarious.
I would like to conclude with the words Dion Fortune wrote to her Society of The Inner Light in 1941;
"The men who should have lead us lie in Flander's feilds, but their deaths released energy, being sacrificial, and upon that energy we can draw for the reconstruction."

THEORY OF WAR AS HUMAN SACRIFICE FOR THE CHANGING OF WORLDS, PART 3

PART 3

Try to think in the manner of a primitive person. It is not hard- try to forget that which youlearnt in scholl and try to remember that which you have learnt in the street and in your home.
try to think as a primative person, as ne who knows the value of one human life- how much it can achieve. (Is this not the point of human sacrifice? That all of a person's energy,all the potential in life,is released in one moment for one perpuse?) Now think of the death of thousands- at The Somme or Starlingrad. What might that achieve?
Nothing more or less than the death of one Age and the life of another.
The death of one person, be it a virgin sacrifice or the execution of a criminal, can bring peace,justice or prosperity to a village. In the case of an innocent sacrifice the action could be considered to have a plasebo effect.In the case of a dangerous criminal,the execution removes a threat to health and property.
The death of hundreds can have the same effect on a city,by having a stronger psychological effect or removing a larger threat.
The death of thousands effects a nation, dramatically altering the nations moral and economy.
Retaining the 'primative- mind set, consider serveral everyday observations; the movement of the sun across the sky, the life and death of a pet, the phases of the moon and he growth of flowers.
Two things are apparent.
Things change,and change is circular (literally revolutionary)

Returning to the modern world, consider the last hundred years of history. This was, and is, a time of unparralled violoence- os war on a scale never before recorded in human history.
Firstly,World War One (The great War for Civilisation). This was prodominently an Imperialist war,fought for the Imperial Ambitions of some nations and for the survival of other nations. It occured in the middle of a time of dramatic social reform.
Next,the Second World War. Fought between Fascists, Communists and Imperial powers,this could be considered a war between Democracy and Totalitarianism, State Socialism and Capitalism, or Nationalism and Imperialism. In any of these interpretations of the conflict a lines between opposing sides are blurred but there is a strong theme of an idealogical struggle.
Then there was the Cold War, which for the purposes of this essay can be said to include all conflicts of a political nature which happened at that time and were influenced by the world powers (such as the Cuban Revolution or the War in Vietnam). This conflict was distinctly marked as a war bteween Capitalism and Communism.
At this time,war is being fought by Britain and America against fundermentalist Islam in the Middle East. this could be considered to be a materialist war for oil and the opium trade, or as an idealogicalstruggle between Islam and Christianity/ Capitalism. It is probably both, but it is marked by the fundermentalists use of Suicide Bombers- direct human sacrifice for idealogical ends.
In summary, we have (at the transition point between Astrological Ages a history of the mass termination of human life for idealogical ends-
Human Sacrifice.

To be continued...

THE THEORY OF WAR AS HUMAN SACRIFICE FOR THE CHANGING OF WORLDS, part 2

PART 2

This essay is inspied by extensive reflection on the social changes caused by 'The Great War for Civilisation', it is the theory that War is a sacrifice (consiously or subconsciously) which causes not only changes in society, but the changing of Ages, of Worlds.
The revatively small wars cause relatively small changes (or social revolutions). The great wars cause the changing of Ages.

Let us first consider Astrological or Zodiac Ages.
An astrological ages lasts for about 2000 years, it is a measurement of time through the movement of astrological objects which can be observed and measured scientifically.
The current age is considered to be the Age of  Pisces, the previous Age was the Age of Aries, the next shall be the Age of Aquarious.
The begining of the current Age (for the western world) was marked by the pinnacle of the Roman Empire and the life of Jesus Christ (Son of God, or influential mortal man). It was characterised by the rise of the Catholic Church, the domination of Monotheism over Paganism, Patriachy and Feudralism.
We are now living in the transition between Pisces and Aquarious: We are living in a time of war- of sacrifice.

To be continued.

Year of The Dragon

Today the lunar year of the Dragon begins. My regards to Vietnam, have a jolly Tet.

THEORY OF WAR AS HUMAN SACRIFICE FOR THE CHANGING OF WORLDS, Part One

Wrote this essay in the summer. Reading Dion Fortune's Magical Battle of Britain inspired me to write it up.

Theory of War as Human Sacrifice for the Changing of Worlds.

PART ONE

Firstly, think of the changes in Britain after World War One- 'The Great War for Civilisation',the death of millions. The vote for women, the steady spread of Socialism across Europe, the many small changes to society and fashion as the last smouldering embers of Feudralism died away.

Secondly, think of the timeless practice of Human Sacrifice. The ritualised execution of individuals or masses of people for religious/ social aims. For as long as human thought has been recorded, people have sacrificed people to appease the Gods or bring balance to the Earth. Everything from the Aztec mass human sacrifice as their societ died to the modern execution of a criminal in the name of Justice is an example of human sacrifice towards the same ends- the improvement of society.

In the West alone there are many examples of the organised killing of many specific individuals (War) which have led to massive social changes.

The English Civil War and Democracy.

The Boar War,which led to massive social reforms for the British working classes.

The Russian Revolution, after the First World War.

The social upheavals of the 1950s and 1960s which folloed the Second World War and were fueled by the wars in Korea and Vietnam.

Did not the Nazis tried to build their new world with the systematic killing of millions of Jews, and did not the sacrifices of the bravest men and women of that generation stop them?

To be continued



MY CAT IS A BASTARD

The cat, Charles,is a complete bastard.
Since my Muse left in the summer, I have written only one poem and a bit of prose. Since I have nother better to put on this blog, I thought I'd complain about the cat.
I tried to take him inside and feed him last night, and the fat bastard savaged me. Charles really is very fat, three times the size of a normal cat. He's not even my cat, he just lives in the same house. All he does is eat and attack. Now that it is too cold for hunting, he fights the dogs. Damn his fluffy heart.
I miss Meow, my Vietnamese cat. He would not scratch me, only the wall and bed and table and chairs. He was gratefull for a sausage or a bit of cake.
Wish that he had not been eaten.
Need a better cat, or a new Muse.
If anyone reading this is an attractive and inspiring lady,or a pleasent cat, please come to Kendal immediately.
Some manner of cat-girl would be ideal.