The Thorny Labyrinth


A way out…

Let go of it. Change your response. Take control of your reactions. Understand that you do not have to be slave to your normal chain of emotions or to the expectations of others. Refuse to let it get you down. Refuse to let it stop you. Remember that your ego is a tool – use it, don’t let it use you. Use theatrics. Play. Remain ridiculously calm. Don’t struggle so hard; you’ll ensnare yourself even more. Step back and think for a moment. Attain inner peace. Silence. Stillness. Just for a moment, become nothing, become no one. Silence your critical mind for a moment, and let your dreaming mind work at unraveling your self-inflicted knots. Ask yourself if it really matters in the grand scheme of things. Try to justify it. Find out if it is for the “highest good” whatever you deem that to be. Find your center and stay there. Work to heal others by healing yourself. Work to heal yourself by healing others. Seek out emanations of love and beauty. Don’t let the fear of change stop your transformation. Forgive your perceived mistakes. As often as possible go towards what feels right and good deep down in your entrails and cojones. Put into life what you hope to get out of it. Play Devil’s Advocate with yourself. Examine the scenery from as many angles as possible.

Good luck.


Any Good Magician Could…


Any Good Magician Could…

Read between the lines.
Notice trends, patterns and currents.
Recognize important similarities and disparities.
Use a good analogy.
Create something worthwhile.
Understand the power of names.
Work a mystery.
Employ associative thought.
Personify inanimate objects.
Make interesting small talk.
Appear eccentric. Or completely normal.
Become effectively invisible.
Put on glamours.
Shapeshift conveniently and convincingly.
Perform minor miracles.
Entertain hirself in the most bland environments.
Produce a clever parable.
Speak with passion and conviction.
Magic for the sake of magic.
Cultivate personal mythology.
Put morals aside when necessary.
Be quite contrary.
Layer meanings.
Act as healer, oracle, confessor.
Hex with a blessing, bless with a curse.
Transmute lesser elements into alchemical gold.
Feel a deep philios for hir fellow humans.
Act with compassion and mercy.
Lead without false authority.
Guide without vanity.
Incite a riot.

Magnum Opus


You are standing in a dark temple, only barely illuminated by light coming from somewhere above. There is a large altar before you with strange and beautiful faces, symbols, plants and beasts carved into it. You realize that this temple is within you and that this altar is a representation of your relationship with that which you consider sacred.

You kneel, staring at the glossy floor in quiet reflection and prayer.

The light becomes more brilliant. You to look up and behold a being that is at once great and terrible, beautiful and alluring. You recognize this creature as your Holy Guardian Angel.

You make a gesture of respect and the being nods.

“Why are you here?”

You know without a doubt that you are here to declare and define the Great Work of your life.

“Yes,” you answer with great conviction.

“What is your Purpose?”

Having already contemplated this for many days, you clearly state the purpose you’ve assigned to yourself for this incarnation, your reason for being, the very basic work that feeds your soul and inspires you to continue this life in the face of all sorrows and difficulties.

“What is your Will?”

Again, you answer clearly, listing all that you desire from the fruits of your labor.

The being nods.

“And your Means?”

You answer carefully, detailing the steps you will take to manifest your Work, knowing well that these steps could easily change depending on circumstances and intuitive prompts.

The being nods again impassively and seems to grow stronger, more defined as thought it is taking strength from these affirmations.

“Yes. This is good. It will be done.”

Your Angel fades back into the light and you take another moment of quiet repose to contemplate the interaction you’ve just had.

The ritual is over. You know that this is a sacred pact between you and your Higher Self, and that this is an important step in the manifestation of your Great Work. Memories of this ritual will serve as an anchor in the future. You also know that you will meet your Guardian in future visualizations and rituals to further cement your plans.

Ceilede’s Breastplate


We have accepted the quest.
We have traversed the maze.
We have discovered the Great Vault of Wealth and Wisdom.
We are standing before the great doors.
We intone the proper incantation.
The doors are swinging open.
The lavish doors are creaking open, a sliver of light is pouring through.
The doors are thundering wide open; we see great treasures on the other side.
We are walking through the doors, our fingertips grazing the ornate carvings.
We are standing in the glowing radiance of a mountain of gold and jewels.
We are digging into the warm metal, putting jewels into our mouths.
We are testing the legendary swords,
And weighing the lost tomes of ancient wisdom in our hands.
We are skimming the parchment and vellum pages.
Becoming enlightened by these words and signs.
We are gathering a portion of the wealth to bring away,
Knowing that we can return anytime we wish to.
We convert the gold to common currency and begin to change our lives.
We change our lives forever.
We begin to change the world around us.
We are changing the world around us.
We have changed the world around us.
We are creating a new reality.
We create a new reality.
We have created our new reality.
We have passed our wealth and wisdom to the world.

Now we all know of our birthright.
We all know what is waiting inside us.
Now we all know the location of the Secret Vault.
It is inside.
Inside us.
Inside each and every one
of us.

Make way! May way for divine madness!


Getting fuzzy around the edges as something prepares to come through. Powerful beginning, striking the match and setting the defixio ablaze.

Make way for divine madness! Open your mouth for the rain of fruit wine to cleanse your throat of the dust from the well-traversed trade roads of life. If you will lift your hands in praise and devotion, they will be covered with the light you seek. The light is the gold you seek; the gold that will buy your unmanifest dreams. Always pay for your desires and experiences with this gold and more gold will always seek you.

In my dream, I am carried aloft by two or three of the Anj. They take me forcefully, although not violently. It is understood that I have little choice in the matter. We ascend towards a bright white-gold light and as we get closer and closer to this light, I melt into thick pools of ruby liquid that the Anj catch in their hands and fashion into a huge ruby chalice. This ruby grail is my new body and I have all the experience of living as this beautiful vibrant cut glass. I am filled with the white-gold light and served to the poor of spirit. The light becomes a fire in their bellies, they are ignited with new passion for life.

My eyes are like hollows with fierce fires behind them. My body is like a portal that allows the numinous to be expressed. I am a chalice filled with the divine madness, and filling you with divine madness when you drink of me.

All the light flowing from me into rainbows bouncing everywhere, into you, into your blood. Spells powerful enough to shake a mountain, gentle as a feather on your cheek. Hands raised to the sky, offering devotion on the vertical axis of reality. The helix rises on fire, flames licking the atmosphere. I’ll connect to you through lightning bursts, complex chains of chaos running from particle to particle, the smell of ozone in your hair. Ashen faces, glorious blossoms bursting from their casings.

I have healed and been healed.

Where once she was pale and slight, she paints herself in all the vibrant colors of nature and even some not found there. She’s gone to the left at the fork in the road and travels in a cloak of twilight, her sanguine mouth glittering rubedo. I am she whom the winds fear, she whose mouth ever flameth, she hisses to the darkening sky. Her skin glows brighter in the gathering darkness and that image encompasses all you can see. She commands all your concentration as you examine the glints in her skin, doorways to other worlds and mirrors of your own majesty.

I am she, I am she. The Grail of Life!

a story my brain told me…


“yadda yadda,”
naysayed the unicorn
in hoarse mumbles that crumbled
over a blueberry buckle sky.
She said to the wind:
I’ve served my Master;
I’ve carried His Lady
to the Dense Grove,
the Willow Grove
where she laid down so sweetly,
so sweetly laid down to die,
a sapphire tear in her amethyst eye.

rizak! rizak!
chimed the charmed chimera
in shimmering timbre that meandered
across a purple velvet vale.
He said to the stream:
I’ve served our Master;
I’ve carried His Babe
to the Flowering Orchard,
the Apricot Orchard
where he laid down so seemly,
so seemly laid down to dream,
the endless pearl-gathering dream.



There’s fragrant oil pouring out of my neck from behind my ear.
There’s figures shimmering in and out of existence on the ends of my eyelashes.
There’s a royal desert excursion running up my back.
There’s briars sprouting from my palms and thorns poking into my wrists.
There’s a hotei living in my third eye.
There’s a cherub brushing sweet words across my lips with a feather.
There are builders upstairs throwing fuel on the fire around my head.
There are horns poking out of my shoulders.
There are ladders running up the backs of my legs.
There’s a secret tunnel through my abdomen.
I carry the figure eight.

Affirmations of Life


Please do eat organic ice cream in bed at 5am.

Please do write erotica about werewolf sex.

Please don’t question your own innate zombie-killing powers.

Please do give away bumperstickers with quirky messages on them.

Please don’t give your friends the silent treatment when they make a mistake.

Please do admit your weird fetishes to close friends and sometimes total strangers.

Please don’t dismiss interesting synchronicities as boring coincidences.

Fall Into Eden


Putting together blocks of words shaped like puzzle pieces made of sounds and brilliant colors entwined with angel’s trumpet vines and mouthfuls of green ayahuasca tea made by serpent honeybees slithering all over the skins of tattooed dancing girls who sing lamentations to the semen grail of the sun ever after the plummet of purple-winged angels into Eden tasting nectarine rainbows that perpetually fall from the fingertips of electric sitar plucking hands stirring the sea of churning milk from whence came the golden infants putting together blocks of words shaped like puzzle pieces.

(This is a very old piece, originally published in the very first Konton Magazine.)