Alphajet

Then & Now & Always

Free ebook from Red Ceilings Press

http://www.theredceilingspress.co.uk/
Eye Jar is here!

A new free ebook of mine is now available from The Red Ceilings Press. It features an exotic mix of poems, visual poems, prose poems and minimalism, and is called EYE JAR. Please go ahead, take a look, download, read and enjoy! More news of other books to come, but this one's free. Hooray!

tomorrowraw

yearache

A Poem

ape  
om

Apple Pwoermd

Creeping Meat Dreams - for the extraterrestrials in my life

Comma Cheese

Lunch

Random Vascular Encoding - A Tale of the Discarded

The four pieces presented here represent way stages, by products, off cuts of something more solid, more finished, more substantial. Yet I like them for what they are. Sometimes things which we discard have a value of their own, the more so for being discarded.

I wonder if we can recollect and reclaim certain parts of our lives and invest them with new meaning and significance on our way to forming something more polished and complete. Or if what we cast aside and ignore is never really cast aside but remains, clinging to us, helping to form the beautiful rag tag bunch of bones, thought and emotion we are.

I have more off cuts filed away, but it may not be a good idea to bring them out all at once, especially at this time of year. We have to deal with ourselves slowly, treat our formation respectfully, attend to it with patience and care and a gentle touch of humour. Nonetheless, I'm a bring-it-all-out-in-the-open type of guy, as long as I have plenty space to do so. As long as I'm able to resist judgement, judgementalism. As long as I sacrifice foolish pride for consciousness of self. As long as I am a black snowflake falling in the night, melting into the significance of insignificance, where the darkness of prime source circles back on itself, gathering in the strays, a snow sun soaking back its own creative rays.

Twin Flames 1

Vispo Visions of an EEG Scan

On Tuesday I went to the Southern General Hospital in Glasgow for an EEG scan, which my doctor set up after I happened to mention the strange, hot energy in my head and the vibrating sensation at the centre of my skull. He wanted to rule out epilepsy and tumours and all sorts of other unpleasant diagnosis as any good doctor might, but I’m pretty sure the symptoms are a result of kundalini energy reaching my brain after years rampaging around my body.

I was led by a pretty nurse into a quiet room with an easy chair where a hairnet of sensors and wires was attached to my scalp with a sticky wet gel. We chatted a bit and I asked her if she regarded consciousness as a by product of the brain’s evolution or a field of energy which the brain filters into mind. She paused and said, “Yea.” I apologised for being so philosophical. She was nice and I felt extremely calm and relaxed as the scan began, slipping into a quiet and fairly deep meditative state as she asked me to open and close my eyes, while recording my brain’s responses on a computer. The room was poised at the verge of exploration and discovery. I felt peaceful, blissful, wondering if the scan might record the brain’s reaction to the lovely liquid energy flowing up my body into my head. The room began to doze.

Next the nurse set up a lamp before my eyes and told me to look into it while she set off a flashing strobe at ever increasing speeds. This is where it got really interesting. Psychedelic patterns began to emerge from the source of light, followed by a swarm of spidery, spindly letterforms, a hive of asemia, which danced across my vision from a central point of white light. Now I’m an eye guy. I love the perfection of the word and the wondrous effects of just being able to see. But I’m no optometrist, so I can’t tell you what these visions were in scientific terms - a cornucopia of corneal activity, an illumination of the nerves in my retina? I don’t know. They were, however, beautiful, mystical, full of strange meaning and alien insight. They reminded me of Mayan geometry or Aztec script, vispo prayers to eyeball deities scratched in milk white parchment.

All in all it was a beautiful experience, shared with a lovely, quiet professional, in a tranquil corner of a busy city hospital. The results may take up to 6 weeks, but that doesn’t matter. I have my results, my effects, my vispo visions of an EEG scan.

These are two of the poems I made mimicking the experience. I hope you like them. They’ll save you an EEG scan of your own.

The Overlapping Elements 1&2

The Olive Garden

Trans

The Olive Lamp

Poems on Fog Alert

Exotic Garden Poem

The Outset Cloaked in Uncertainty