Terra Incognita


Beyond the shores of illusion

of the surreal objective manifestation

the most diaphanous shade

wanders speaking in tongues


The meat of him a penumbra

no amnion or membrane

to contain him, dissipate

with only telepathic friends


A gossamer existence

no cause nor effect

a simple white tsalmaveth descending

ever, the celestial staircase


A shade standing always

just behind the living

and pointing them direct to the sun

a pillar of salt, deserted


Dancing all the limbo

without any bars

no hurdles, no gaols

in the vast austerity of Cosmos


No maps here

no lonely planet guide

just a subtle melange of spice

an entheogen for his own apotheosis


The beneficent  Mahātmā

who pyres his Soul

henceforth walking the tides

of all humanity, forever


The subtle olfactory body

his Atmic vehicle

extends far beyond continua

sniffing at all the winds in creation


Searching ever the treasure chest

to uncover the purpose

hidden on tropical isles

for his last peroration


Beyond the shores of illusion

of the surreal objective manifestation

the most diaphanous shade

wanders speaking only in tongues



Which no one else can understand… …

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

A midsummer’s night dream

Free association on the theme of Puck and Ariel and Robin.

Playing with language..


How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?

How chance the roses there do fade so fast? 

Belike for want of rain, which I could well

Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.


Hail Robin 

Well met


Wither wander’st thou

This shortest night?


Out ‘pon the streams

Of the field of dreams

Seeking for the longest mile

Within the tear’s fairest smile


For the faery King

Has lost his way

And all the sprites they sing

To save, perhaps this very day


Are you not old Nick?

In another guise

To question and to trick

With the rhyme of the jester’s  lies?


An honest Puck am I

As simple and as fair

As is the day

And often wondering

Which of many is 

Now my way


Fear you not

Oberon’s fell

And mighty wrath?


As the changeling

With nothing to hide

Where is such a storm

That I cannot ride


For as the temper

Rises its own distemper

The sure and secure

Doth hidden things, procure


And the method

Is but a way

That has before served

In the battle’s fray


Yet Robin

The pearls

They rise

In your eyes

What makes this so?


‘Tis the rust

Of trust


That cuts my

Finger bones

And the doubt

In me and of me

That marks my

Funeral stones


So you stay

From Oberon’s court?


To wander

In the woods

Of a goblin night

And face all the fright


And for such reward

It makes even the Puck

An honest steward

As ever there was luck


Wonder at the wise

Of it all

And look to the clearing

In the thrall


Of the size

Of a summer wood

And start to question

If even the Puck is good


For Robin he has his own

Doubt so often sewn

And to build on this

Makes not his dearest wish


So now from you to quote:

How now, spirit! whither wander you?



I wander on the dream’s

Faintest cusp

And search for hint

That is borne of sleep’s

Freshest mint


And will let

The captain of my soul

Point me forward

And reveal my role


And hope and pray

That the dream

Will now light the way


For on this stage

The lights are, still

And in this age

We are no longer

The subject of our will

And us makes stronger


For a dream

Cannot single be

It is as was written

‘pon the cosmic tree


Hail Robin 

Well met

I wish you well

Upon your trek


And Ariel

So to you

Be of your best

In all you do


And as we share

The ephemera of the air

Let us float

On the wind

And see what mischief

Of our kind


If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber’d here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:if you pardon, we will mend:

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call;

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.