The Puck “Dialogues”

Playing with the notion of Puck and Ariel.

How might they interact?

What might bind them?


    “Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

    Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

    Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

    One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

    In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

    One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

    One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

    In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”


    —J.R.R. Tolkien’s epigraph to The Lord of the Rings



Hail fellow well met!!


and to you Ariel my wingèd friend.


Whence goest thou, this fell and chill night?


I know not for all ways are now closed,

each that have tried hast not fruit to bear

nor purpose, nor traction, nor good cheer


Puck, what then wilt thou do?


Sure as know knot am I tied,

for there are rivers twice

that seek me yet

to fish me with their

carper’s net


One says must stay and fight

and yet

grey haven’s beckon


course is not

not, ready set


One of old

and one of new

both the two

from ages fast

invite me

to take repast


Which flavour of fate do you favour now?


Shall seek a sign

fore tear this skein

to look wherein

how lies the wine


 And those shadows pull they still?


A shimmer of a Christmas past

has sought my mind

these several hours last


A tendril of

a yore gone by

hast segued again

before my eye


What Puck then, does it mean?


Material ‘ tis it not

and vane

will show

unto me


from time hence,


the wind doth blow.


Perhaps to don the corsair’s shirt

and sail again on mystic tide?


Canst I come too

on this final ride?


Ariel would seem my words

are all now nearly spent

and sure as toffee

won’t pay the rent


With naught to do

and less to say

seems my purpose

has gone away


North then of the hindu Kush

call they to I

to drink of tea

with mountains fair

to espy


For to be liked

‘mongst like

sure, strong it pulls


And deep the night

have I wandered here

midst mortal man


Seems was always

part the plan


What roads then left to tread?

For your words call up in me

a sense of dread


Dread not sprite and friend of mine

each has his allotted time

signs they are, as yet unclear

so be hearty and not fear.


Art though lost then Robin?


No am waiting for

a cube of chance

to appear


For cubes as such

have many spots

and their roll

reveals our lot


Must the wait be so very long?


Yes man, that is the theme of my song

it  echoes now in silent glen

for belong I not

amongst these men.


Hast you lost all your sight?


Blind am I


no more dreams at



No lamp, no candle

 shows me the mortice lock

‘pon the door which

must I ever,  knock


Nor have I vision

many more,

nothing seen

no music score


What notes could e’er


without the rails

them to contain?


Where does the rhythm beat

if not held in tempo

by the heart’s vital seat


There, where sleeps the Soul

no more

and cause of that

I have no core


Oh Robin is all

then lost?


Nay my friend

have bargained

for this cost


Planned have I

through hill and dale

fear not I

to pierce the final veil


Let’s then this autumn night

gather wood

to warm with

fire and  light


Take off our woollen mitts

and finger flames

‘till ice is gone


for soon enough

the dawn will come


Hark now Puck

those are some letters

I  hear them well

and cut these deathly fetters


Have I with me

a warming brew

made with wine

and brandy too


To heat the very toes

deep within

 the leather shoe


Aye, Ariel my faithful friend

shiver not this darkened hour

within this

 our most temporary

of bower.


Salut Puck!!






Lazarus and

I am the voice of one calling in solitude.



Always change



Always love


Love and change


As you are not me

Will I love you


As you are of me

I will love you more


As I am of you

I will love you most


As you and I are of Him

We love in Him


As I am, so I am

As you are, so you are

As He is, so are we


Each day

Brings a new birth


And slowly

Lazarus he leaves the cave


And throws the bandages

From his eyes


And looks to Raphael

To close the wounds


And listens for Gabriel’s

Trumpet call


As the cavern’s

Restless sleep

Calls the dream



Across the desert

Of another land


I am the resurrection and I am the light.

Karmapa / Dalai Lama Dream 7-9-2012

I am in my nan’s house when two large limousines pull up and out of them come loads of Tibetans together with security who set up a perimeter around the house.

One of them is the “Dalai Lama”, another is a doctor / healer and a third is a guide for protocol. The DL has a hooded cowl over his head. They all enter into the house and we go upstairs to my Grandfather’s room which is in the centre of the three story house. (I used to gaze out of here across the valley to Clydach when I was young)

They all sit down on the floor. The doctor wants to take a good look at me naked. So I strip and he goes over me examining me very thoroughly. He seems to be satisfied. The DL is sat down on the floor. I am sat on a chair. The protocol man says that no-one should have his head above the DL. So I sit down on the floor next to him. He removes the cowl from his head and  looks me direct in the eye. He is a Tibetan man with very dark hair and roughly my own age only a bit younger. I refer to him as Lhamo only he isn’t the man who goes around as the DL, he is too young for that.

He says to me; “Can you empty your mind?”

I shift quietly and quickly into a deep meditation.

“Of course you can !” He says smiling.

He says that he has been interested to read what I have sent them

“First let’s do a little healing for someone..”

He hands me a small object and asks me to concentrate. Out of the object I materialise a scorpion.

“Detach the scorpion and you will heal the person..”

I detach the scorpion with a little difficulty and throw it into the fire.

Looking out of the window we can see that some people have turned up. The DL is used to this and he motions to security to remove them gently.

Back in the room the DL says jokingly;

“It is always fun to do a bit of shamanism, isn’t it?”

I sense that this has been a test.

He then shows me his back. It has black marks upon it. “What are these he asks?”

I say that they are bones

“Yes I can express my bones through my skin. It is a part of the martial arts we do in Tibet which can be very deadly..”

As he speaks pins come out of the “bones” on his back.

He brings in three security guards who are dressed in brightly coloured robes. They are all trained in this. They are a mixed bunch, tall and with poor teeth. They all have a glint in the eyes.

“They are very fast and would probably win any Mixed Martial Arts contest. We have thought about entering them just for fun, but thought better of it. You are trained in martial arts too, aren’t you? Perhaps you too are deadly?”


We  are then in mind to mind contact for a very long time. After this he rummages around in a cupboard and sees artist’s materials there. I hand these to him and he starts to make an elaborate construction.

My aunt is downstairs. I explain to her what is going on.

Back upstairs the DL is busy building his construction. He asks me to put the fire up one level. He is a little cold. (Implied it is cooler here than in India)

The security guards come in and say that people and the press have started to gather outside the house. I have no idea how long we have been talking, perhaps days.

They decide that they will go out the front door and not the back one. Security goes out and brings around the limousines. The DL who is really the Karmapa, or a mix of the two, says that things will now really start to change. I go with them to the door and the press are there all flashlights and cameras. There are metal barriers and police to contain the crowd.The Karmapa gets into a car and they drive off.

The press interview me wanting to know what has been going on.

“He came here for a chat and for one of the doctors to look at me. It was all very nice,” I say.

Now I am somehow back in a city. The ex-wife is for some reason around. She has heard about what has happened. She asks if I can bring her some chilli on my way back from town. I am on a tube train and footage of the visit is being played on a TV screen in the carriage. A small Ethiopian looking man is there. He says;

“That is you in the footage, isn’t it?”


The whole carriage turns to look at me and the footage.

I am now living on a small country estate. There are two male lions prowling around the front gate for security.

I go outside for a wander. I see a small crowd and they start to throw silver CDs at me like discuses, the intention is one of harm. I turn my back on them and by using “the force”  block the CDs causing them to drop to the floor. I then fly over them and up into a truly massive tree. I then fly back into the house.

In an annexe, a type of out building for the main house, the “Toltec” group is gathered. I am now moving rapidly through the house pushing open doors as I do. I am going to give them a piece of my mind.

I go into the room and they are all sat upon chairs around the outside of the room, in a “circle”. There are many familiar faces there. I speak to them about my life path and what it means for them. {implicit is that it is very important for them} The ex-wife is in the audience and all she wants to know is whether or not I got her chilli.  This typifies the mood and even when they are shown footage of the DL’s / Karmapa’s visit and him leaving my house, they are unmoved and disinterested.

Later I am outside by a rubbish heap. I meet again the Ethiopian man only now his head is much larger.  I understand him to be a knowledgeable being. He tells me not to be worried and that he too cannot believe what he has just witnessed in terms of their arrogance and utter stupidity.

I now realise that the being I was interacting with before was definitely the Karmapa, who is known for his magical capacities.  We are now linked.

He says,” Things of true importance are always revealed in dreams and visions…”

Dream ends.

Journey Quotes

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

Lao Tzu


The only journey is the one within.

Rainer Maria Rilke


The longest journey is the journey inwards. Of him who has chosen his destiny, who has started upon his quest for the source of his being.

Dag Hammarskjold


We don’t receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us.

Marcel Proust


Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us.

Samuel Smiles


If my ship sails from sight, it doesn’t mean my journey ends, it simply means the river bends.

Enoch Powell


If all difficulties were known at the outset of a long journey, most of us would never start out at all.

Dan Rather


For the poet the credo or doctrine is not the point of arrival but is, on the contrary, the point of departure for the metaphysical journey.

Joseph Brodsky


 Not all those who wander are lost.

 J.R.R. Tolkien


Whither will my path yet lead me? This path is stupid, it goes in spirals, perhaps in circles, but whichever way it goes, I will follow it.

Hermann Hesse


Every step you take is a step away from where you used to be.

Brian Chargualaf


What you’re missing is that the path itself changes you.

Julien Smith


When you have completed 95 percent of your journey, you are only halfway there.

Japanese Proverb quotes


“End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path. One that we all must take.”

J.R.R. Tolkien,

Advanced Meditation and Shambhala

From Wiki

“In Tibetan Buddhist tradition, Shambhala (Sanskrit: शम्भल Śambhala, also spelled Shambala or Shamballa; Tibetan: བདེ་འབྱུང, Wylie: Bde’byung; Chinese: 香巴拉; pinyin: Xiāngbālā) is a mythical kingdom. Shambhala is mentioned in the Kalachakra Tantra. The Bon scriptures speak of a closely related land called Tagzig Olmo Lung Ring.

The Sanskrit name is taken from the name of a city mentioned in the Hindu Puranas, probably in reference to Sambhal in Uttar Pradesh. The mythological relevance of the place originates with a prophecy in Vishnu Purana (4.24) according to which Shambhala will be the birthplace of Kalki, the final incarnation of Vishnu, who will usher in a new age (Satya Yuga) and the prophesied ruling Kingdom of Maitreya, the future Buddha.”


“During the late 19th century, Theosophical Society co-founder Helena Blavatsky alluded to the Shambhala myth. Blavatsky, who claimed to be in contact with a Great White Lodge of Himalayan Adepts, mentions Shambhala in several places, but without giving it especially great emphasis.

Later esoteric writers further emphasized and elaborated on the concept of a hidden land inhabited by a hidden mystic brotherhood whose members labor for the good of humanity. Alice A. Bailey claims Shamballa (her spelling) is an extra-dimensional or spiritual reality on the etheric plane, a spiritual centre where the governing deity of Earth, Sanat Kumara, dwells as the highest Avatar of the Planetary Logos of Earth, and is said to be an expression of the Will of God.”


I have been wondering whether or not to start into this. There is a meditation called “the master in the heart” in which one opens a twelve petalled lotus. Which contains the jewel in the centre of the lotus, a diamond. Om mane pade hum. The thought form is actually in three spatial dimensions and one temporal one. It evolves in time. It “exists” high on the mental plane and interacts with the buddhic plane. In fact it acts as a kind of doorway or portal. In the diagram it is located on the plane of abstract mind. The diagrammatic representation is more distinct and delineated than the thought form itself.

Spatially this lotus is “located” on the central channel vertically below the crown chakra, through which the threads are abstracted on death. The crown chakra is also visualized as a many petalled lotus. How each individual views the meditation, visualizes it, may vary. It will also to an extent be influenced by the ray type of the person meditating. In my experience the more stable the thought form becomes the more likely it is to be “correct”.

Before commencing this meditation, I meditated daily at least once a day for eight years, sometimes more, doing Toltec active dreaming practice in which one visualizes a yellow rose. When in London, I often used to do this med. on the Victoria line from Brixton during rush hour, or on the Gatwick Express on the way to board meetings. Because of the way my brain is wired and my training as a scientist I can visualise time evolving potential energy surfaces and the vibrational modes of many atom molecules. So, I am pretty good at visualisation.

I can hold the lotus or rose thought form in the mental space just in front of my Anja centre or move them around to between my shoulder blades, at will.

As part of this lotus meditation, one envisions the three lower sheaths which are like diaphanous eggs on the etheric, astral and mental planes.  Construction of these “eggs” has a remarkable stabilising effect on the individual who does it. It “contains” their beingness.

It occurred to me that before I tried to progress upwards out of the crown chakra and on to the buddhic and atmic planes, I would need to contain my awareness thereupon otherwise I could get badly dissipated and lost or even die. So just as I constructed the three lower sheaths, I began attempts to build a buddhic and atmic vehicles in a similar manner. These sheaths are much more subtle and extend further from the physical body.

After I had been able to take my awareness “above” the jewel. I started to see if I could construct a thought form for Shambhala. Over a period of many months, I set about constructing with care, this thought form to see if I could.

How would one get there?

Obviously there had to be some kind of stairway. When I first started the construction, I could only get stability of image whilst chanting the om ah hum purification mantra in deep voice. I figured if I wasn’t “allowed” to go there I would not be able to construct the form.

What would lie atop the steps?

Well, some kind of open courtyard in front of the temple building. What could one “see” from the courtyard in the southern quadrant? It would be the snow-capped Himalayas. For an example of a visualisation aid explore this. It is pretty groovy in any case.

Would there be several layers of access; an outer chamber an inner chamber and the council chamber? Who could go where? Where might the Sanat Kumara be “seated” and what about the Buddhas of Activity. How would they look?

The question remains if one constructs the thought form, dreams it in, does one “go” there. The body sure as hell doesn’t but the “mind” does. What happens to time? The clock time based on quartz oscillators ceases. When you come back only tens of minutes have passed but the thought form is way more expansive than that. One cannot climb a staircase like that in ten minutes. What is orchestrating the building of the form. My working conclusion is that it cannot be the personality, it must be the Soul. So does the Soul travel to the courtyard at Shambhala?

It is time to do my sous chef work for dinner… enjoy the web cams


This is partially about fate and partially about having to be reborn again, viewed from a discarnate state, a dream, a vision of a seer.


Under the canopy of leaves

The six sided dice of fate

Bubbles and boils

With the three minute eggs

Impatient in the saucepan of life


Soft in the centre and waiting

Waiting for the soldiers to return

From those far distant lands

To find the Odyssean paddle

Stuck into the sand


Now dancing Aurora’s northern waltz

In the magic sky of childhood dreams

And seeking Teiresias’ blinding eye

To see and sense the Milky Way’s

Celestial, celebration’s hunt


On larken wing to soar

Into the eagle’s watchful eye

And find within the abstract cores

The forming purpose of the

Many winding woodland trails


Turning to heal on the nodal

Fractal point of balance

Strung on the gallows of becoming

In the nascent fronds of time

Without the tinkle, twinkle starlight sky


Feeling the winding wisps

Of another’s dream

Drop a stitch as the needles

Click clack in haste

Somewhere, close across the room


Now hungry

Fed on reason’s meagre ration

As each black and white frame

Passes the smoke filled scream

Of the daily humbug, handbag life


Now spent and sated

By passion’s primal earthly score

That leases a moment

From the conductor’s

Baton charge


Static and crackling the hairs

Upon the arm of charm

And counting the basalt

Basin rock that

Forms the font


Now sprinkling on

The head of strife

A name, a name

And so forward

Into life


And with spade

And shovel

Now to dig

For diamond’s daring

Smiling face


And picking the bird nest beard

Of a trusted, trusted friend

For insight’s new

And lantern’s

Novel, ways to mend


To see the canopy

From above

And watch The rhythm

Bang its deep red

Pulsing drum


And tasting the texture

Of my swollen thumb

By hammers’

Wayward glance


Kind and blind

Of what

Is yet to come.


And knowing now

In whisky’s

Peaty still

All is done


As was


It was

His will

The Hooded Man

hunting echoes

in a canyon

with a ceremonial



wearing an overcoat

of shadows

belonging to

someone else


seeking a river’s tears

under a willow tree

being coy with carp

and an egret


wobbling with

the newborn deer

in ignorance grass

on poppy meadows


where remembering

brings no opium

not for ghosts

or djinns


counting cherry stones

piled in perfect balance

a heap of Sakurai

in the making


a sandwich of Satori

rice paper fine

and as delicate

as dew


the dawn chases away

echoes and shadows

and walks daisies,

petal footsteps in the stream


tickling toes between

washing scales

as the sunlight



the mists yawn

the trees sway

dancing mirror ponds

shimmer sequins


the stars stretch

their cosmic arms

teasing the hair

of night’s sky


and now even echoes

chime no more

Pie Jesu in the snow

as a lamb sings


frolicking with buttercups

and dents-de-lions

shorn of shadow coats

and now naked


no more soul

to clothe him

not now

not ever


the land of shadows

fades misty fast

without meals

or succour


and diamond eyed,

glinting galaxies,

he pulls up his cowl

the hooded man


… … hunts no more