(Gwyllm – Infinite Bunny)
THE TREE ABOVE —THE TREE BELOW
What is above is below
What is without is within
What is to come is in the past
Tall… deep… tree… green… branching… leaf
Root… above… below… thrusting… coiling
Sky… earth… stem… root
Leaf… green… sap
Soil… air
Seed
Soil… visible
Hidden… breathing… sucking
Bud… ooze… sun… damp
Light.. dark… bright… decay… laugh
Tear.. vein.,. rain… mud branch… root
What is above is below
What is without is within
What is to come is in the past
These wooden carvings displayed in her endless shelves
Await
Within each uncut branch—
The carver’s knife
—from Psychedelic Prayers
Timothy Leary
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Dreaming of
that perfect
annihilation
Everything within
white light.
Blessings,
Gwyllm
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On The Menu:
Pentangle – Light Flight
Annihilating Illumination
A Glass Of Ayahuasca
Pentangle – House Carpenter
Art – Gwyllm (mostly)
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Pentangle – Light Flight
Annihilating Illumination
GEORGE ANDREWS
While being struck by lightning in slow motion
the fire sears away layer after layer
sizzles me down to my ultimate ash
I quiver shrieks of laughing crystals
the radiant frenzy of the storm’s soul dwells in the guts of the dragon
the bomb in my belly blasts my body to bits
a million suns burst into being
naked free no ring around me but my own desire
I hold the lightning in embryo in my arms
the blood of the cactus is the blood of a snake and the blood of a star
magnetic dragon throbbing in each corpuscle
shining snake of the light wave our beings are based on
glyph of the nucleus of the cosmos
original flash of let there be light
the boat of the sun navigates through the underworld of my intestines
perpetual pilgrim doomed to wander through the chromatic repercussions
the intimate structure of the transparent signs
flower of light flowing through the blood of the universe
I wander through the mazes of the glory and the horror of the life
slime
vital jelly swarming in all possible creatures
I see the dead and the living merge
the dead call to us the living may we recognize them at last
the dead are in our blood each corpuscle an ancestor
the day all the living die the dead shall live
herald of the apocalypse sound the doomsday horn
‘Man stop the wheel of creation and look inside
the stars are all contained within our organs
galactic music spins inside the bones
coruscating symphonies coalesce iridescent vibrations
coupled poles of attraction combust the salt of a fantastic caprice
philosopher’s stone cooking in the cauldron of my skull
drain the bitter cup to its last drop
potent is the sorcerer’s broth
mighty as the giant bird who swoops down and carries me away
to the motionless point around which all motion spins
I see touch and count the seeds of destiny
I see how fate weaves its webs
dreaming worlds into being from the ooze of my own brain
God born of the goo of my membranes
and has suffered ever since the intricate combinations of the opposites
afloat forever a bubble on the surface of reality
O to make one perfect thing at last of all the worlds of wandering
a ransom for the soul’s pain
drink liquid lightning from the sacred river while it is before you
don’t miss a drop no one sees it twice
fire swims and pulses through each cell of my being
the seed of strong delight stirs .
myriad joys feel at home in an angel’s nest
revolving wheels of splendor palpitate potent beauty
clear colors cascade undulating reflections
of the diamond in the brain the pituitary gland decalcified
the mirror in the mind
the heavenly heart awakens the first beat tells the worlds
germ in the guts of God or God in the guts of a germ I am that I am the same dance is everywhere
the one law of cyclic change
that constantly accelerating fugue of incandescent experience
flaming sequences of rhythm patterns
I am alive within the living God
I throb unique among the infinite variations
and so what if all the evolution of consciousness only leads to the knowledge
that I am a germ in the guts of a greater being
I am older than creation older than all beings
the stars revolve within me
I voyage through the inner space between my atoms
I take space ships to the different parts of my body
each organ becomes a constellation as I spread across the sky
wheeling through the zodiac weaving the fate of future races
conceive a cosmos where life does not need to kin to live
create a system free from pain
in the spawn and seethe of the primeval ocean
out of chaos I pass the current
immortal diamonds shimmering on the foam of the instant now
scintillating images of the flux that never fixes
explode into extreme intensities
constantly generating golden brilliance
face to face with the annihilating illumination
how much revelation can an organism sustain and stay alive
mortals beware the rays of the absolute
Nerval: “They consider me insane but I know
that I am a hero living under the eyes of the gods.”
glistening tender stars in the organs of all forms of life
trembling jewels flicker as they crawl like snakes
hidden energy roots of the soul body contact
subtle link between the sun and our life metabolism
invisible fiery wheel inside me
one spark that transforms everything
I’ve been to paradise and out the other side
zoomed through it like the midnight express through a whistle stop
I have been torn apart by the fingers of the flash
flayed alive on my electric skeleton
pulverized by the power of the spasm
I am the bridge between the living and the dead
I am the spirit in the shaman’s drum
I quiver to the rhythm of the Sphinx
I visit my own body as a stranger
incredible paroxysms of the luminous protoplasm
kindle multiple modulations of rare royal reality
to know that at each moment the crown jewels of the absolute
are dancing in the slime of my tissue
the play of the light in the growing cell
pours through the pulse of my perception
phoenix singing in my flesh
bird that breathes lightning as we breathe air and fishes water
intricate egg of fire fluctuating
in the magnetic field of my affinities and repulsions
where myriads of globules circulate crosswires hum
most amplified fantasy of the diamond body harvest
I free my nucleus gathering ecstasy for the ages
MY psyche digests the apocalyptic wisdom
interplanetary nausea
perfection signals tremor on the skin
O frail fine blue star
your faint fragile tonalities swoon triumphant rainbows
as the berserk fury of the thunder’s roar fades into words on paper.
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(Gwyllm – Uncle Allen 2)
A GLASS OF AYAHUASCA
by Allen Ginsberg
in my hotel room overlooking Desamparados’ Clanging Clock,
with the french balcony doors closed, and luminescent fixture out
“my room took on a near eastern aspect” that is I was reminded of Burroughs
with heart beating—and the blue wall of Polynesian Whorehouse, and
mirror framed in black as if in Black Bamboo-and wooden slated floor
and I in my bed, waiting, and slowly drifting away
but still thinking in my body till my body turned to passive wood
and my soul rocked back & forth preparing to slide out on eternal journey
backwards from my head in the dark
An hour, realizing the possible change in consciousness
that the Soul is independent of the body and its death
and that the Soul is not Me, it is the wholly other “whisper of consciousness”
from Above, Beyond, Afuera—
till I realize it existed in all its splendor in the Ideal or Imaginary
Toward which the me will travel when the body goes to the sands of Chancay
And at last, lying in bed covered my body with a splendid robe of
indian manycolors wool,
I gazed up at the grey gate of Heaven with a foreign eye
and yelled in my mind “Open up, for I am the Prince of eternity
come back to myself after a long journey in chaos,
open the Door of Heaven, My Soul, for I have come back to claim
my Ancient House
Let the Servants come forth to Welcome me and let Silent Harp make music
and bring my apparel of Rainbow and Star show me my shoes of Light and
my Pants of the Universe
Spread forth my meal of myriad lives, My Soul, and Show up thy
Face of Welcome
For I am the one who has dwelled in the secret Temple before,
and I have been man too long
And now I want to Hear Music of Joy beyond Death,
and now I am be who has waited to Welcome myself back Home
The great stranger is Home in his House of Joy.”
or words or thoughts or sensations & images to that effect.
Thus for an instant the Sensation of this Eternal House passed thru my hair
tho I couldn’t liberate my body from the bed to float away—
tho did glimpse the foot of the thought of the gate of Heaven—
Then opened my eyes and Saw the blast of light of the real universe
when I opened the window and looked at the clock on the R R Station
with its halfnaked man & woman with clubs, creators of time and chaos,
and down on the street where pastry venders sold their poor sugar
symbolic of Eternity, to Passerby-and great fat clanking beast of Trolley
with its dumb animal look and croaking screech on the tracks
Powered by electric life,, turned a corner of the Presidential Palace
where Bolivar 200 years ago in time planted a secret everlasting Fig-tree
and a fog from another life crept thru its own dimension
Past the cornice of the hotel and travelled downward in the street
To seek the river-had a bridge with little humans crossing, faraway
—and up in the hills the silver gleam of sunlight on the horizon thru thick fog
—and the Cerro San Christobal—with a cross atop and Casbah of poor
consciousness ratted on its hip—
and overall the vast blue flash & blast of open space
the Sky of Time, empty as a big blue dream
and as everlasting as the many eyes that lived to see it
Time is the God, is the Face of the God,
As in the monstrous image of the Ramondi Chavin Sculptured Stone Monument
A cat head many eyed sharp toothed god face long as Time,
with different eyes some upside down and 16 sets of faces
all have fangs—the structure of one consciousness
that waits upstairs to Devour man and all his universes
—turn the picture upside down—the top eyes see more than the human bottom rows
Indifferent, dopey, smiling, horrible, with Snakes & fangs—
The huge gentle creature of the Cosmic joke
that takes whatever form it can to Signify that it is the one that has come to its Home
where all are invited to Enter in Secret eternally
After they have been killed by the illusion of Impossible Death.
Lima, Peru
May 1960
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Pentangle – House Carpenter
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