The Art of Dreaming
For a while this morning I was researching Carlos Castenada. I had read his first four or five books as a teen and was thinking perhaps it was time to refresh my memory as regards their content. Pretty soon, I was reading about the man and how most likely, he was a fraud who rather than sitting in a small room with Don Juan was reading books about the subject at the University Library. I felt a rising sense of disappointment too as I read how he had retreated to a mansion with three female followers who gave up everything to live with and follow him and how he treated his family. All the classic symptoms of ego, sex and cult. Very disappointing. I read too a summary of the
Read More »Two Weeks of Silence
After today, I can promise you almost two weeks of silence from G Michael Vasey. While I am gone, I will imagine you all running out to buy my books and reading my archive of delicious articles on this blog and on Asteroth’s Domain Me? well, I will be laying in the sun, swimming and drinking cold beers to cool off in Kos. I can’t wait. I have been neglecting Asteroth’s Domain which I reserve for more esoteric articles mainly. I guess, I simply haven’t had much to say esoterically recently. Instead, I have been focused on building a business (Commodity Technology Advisory LLC) and trying to build a platform for my writing. Both are non-stop activities and can slowly eat away every minute of the day one way or
Read More »The Dream
Last night I was dreaming something though now I cannot recollect what it was. I know that it was a long and continuous dream and that I was in a remote and beautiful place. I was revisiting it with my partner and child. The place was familiar and yet not. I recall thinking it was the Island of Eigg but it was not – it was somewhere I have not been to in this reality. Anyway, I was walking down a rough lane between two flat fields of grass. My two companions were behind me a short distance. Up ahead, I could see two figures one an adult female and the other a child. As I saw them, it began to darken and to snow and I was thinking that
Read More »Reality Really is Weird
I am reading a book about the nature of reality. It has an interesting way of working its theme as it has you conduct experiments. This last two days, I was doing one of the experiments where you simply look everywhere and expect to see something. In my instance, I decided on a pink car. Don’t ask me why. It just seemed like something fairly rare…. I actually finished reading the instructions on my Kindle riding a bus to pick up my car from service on Friday. I decided, pink car and looked up. As my eyes refocused on the view through the back window of the bus I noticed another bus. It was white but…. it had huge pink stripes on it. I thought to myself “OK, thats not
Read More »Am I Alone?
I must confess that I often wonder if I am in fact alone. I mean, are any of YOU actually REAL? Much more likely, you are all figments of my furtive imagination. Think about it. The only thing that can really be real to us are our own experiences. Those experiences are second hand since if I touch you, it is in fact something in my brain that interprets what that touch should feel like and hell, what is ‘feeling’ anyway? Its something in my consciousness and in my brain and nothing to do with the atoms and molecules of my hand brushing against the atoms and molecules of you. Our entire experience of OUT THERE is ….. INSIDE OF US. You do not exist people I know it. I
Read More »Of FA Cup Finals, Hull and Yorkshire
This last weekend, I and a good percentage of my fellow East Yorkshire compadres (not all as Rugby is still big in Hull and Hull KR played Hull FC that same day!) were either sat in the London sun at Wembley or, like me, huddled in front of the biggest TV we could find. Of course, none of us really entertained the idea that we could actually win the FA Cup but we all brimmed with pride and awe at the occasion none the less. But you also knew, as underdogs, we had nothing at all to lose and there is always the chance, no matter how slim, that on the day and for 90 minutes, Hull City could be the better team. Of course, 10 minutes after kick off
Read More »Texas Summer Sun
A summer rain falls Wet but warm Steam rises from the heated pavement The Texas sun is strong An endless scourge of baking heat It’s only fit for ants and reptiles And Mexican gardeners mowing lawns Dabbing perspiration from my brow Sipping on an ice cold yet tasteless beer Can I make it to the cooling pool? Or to an immense air-conditioned mall? Hoping for relief from a passing thunderstorm I’m dreaming now of winter European snow – a good icy blow Escape from this rabid summer heat Slowly frying in my own juices Dying from the scolding and abuses Of the blazing midday Sun
Read More »Moon whispers
Breezy, breathless whispers She speaks to you Rasping, her voice is in the wind Leaden overcast clouds scud Trodden ground wet like mud She asks ‘see, see me?’ Tho’ you look high and low There is no sign of her Raindrops splatter the pavement And damp is the rising scent The Moon is sheening silver Hanging low in leaden dark sky Reflecting the one true light But long are the lunar shadows Following us like the scudding clouds The monthly days slowly lengthen Tears of crystalline water droplets As She no longer has anything to say Ripples of a long gone era overwhelmed her Caught in the shadow of the Son The golden orb slowly sails its journey She rises at dawn reflecting all Like a mirror to all humanity
Read More »The Stream of Life
Bobbing along the stream Sometimes fighting Other times alighting For a longer look Checking out scenery But no real choices Except to go with the flow I go where I need to go Can only slow The inevitable As I start at the beginning I must end at the end That’s the way it really is Life is like a stream Winding its lonely way Always just passing through Never sitting still Ripples speak to movement Movement is my destiny One day, I will reach the Sea And that, my friends Will be the end of me.
Read More »Touching the Emptiness
Touch the emptiness Stretching deepness Cooling depths Old memories Black and white Like old movies Funny feelings As if I could touch Touch the emptiness It’s on the edge As if momentarily Forgotten Was that my childhood? Was that really me? Stretching deeply To touch the emptiness Its’ dreamlike quality Chasing that thought Is there a reason? Am I all for naught? Touching the emptiness Building a soulful thirst Driving onwards ever wearily Towards the setting Sun Yet didn’t it just begin? Started in the sixties Images, floating illusions Touching the emptiness My father has already gone He prepares the place Wherever that is as he Touches the emptiness Birth, Death, emptiness Cyclic like the seasons I came from the emptiness And there I will return Reaching out, stretching On
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