Inspired by a conversation with the excellent Amanda Lyle:


Comfy in kaftan?
It's Astral Projection time.
The Traveller smiles.

All is One is All.
Existence Precedes Essence?
Theosophy's Rules. 

And so it begins.
Tourist at the speed of soul?
Via Lacteae.

They pass all as one:
Each a sun to its children.
Every Star is Yours.

The sweet, primal hum 
Of the sweet, hugging Cosmos. 
Powerful; gentle.

To the Hub and back:
Twenty-six thousand light-years
In half a heartbeat.

Slowing to silence.
Transparent to Transcendence. 
Earth-fall is achieved.


For my non-blogging friend, Miss L.:

Listen... just listen. 
Can you hear the Siren's song? 
Sweet, yet sinister. 

Time and time again.
The Siren's fucked you over. 
And now it's your turn. 

Just don't get too close. 
Try to be "Ulysses Max"
Hit that Siren hard. 

Self-respect's a sword: 
Blade of Personality. 
Slice with all your might. 

You've such a big heart. 
And you've touched so many souls:
They're lucky people. 

You've much more to give. 
I want to see it achieved. 
You'll survive -- and thrive!

You've won... so relax. 
Sit back, then give compassion 
To those who need it.



Thanks to the charming blogger raynotbradbury for the inspiration. 
Not sure if this is bittersweet or maudlin... it's not for me to say, I suppose!


Looking at myself
The image is clear as glass: 
I am the sad wulf. 

I'm not typical. 
A wulf is predatory?
Vicious by nature? 

I possess no bite.
Self-interest eludes me. 
It's both good and bad.

My eyes show cunning
But it's a foxy disguise. 
I'm toothless; clueless. 

I don't stir the shit. 
No devious aggression. 
Quite dull, you'll agree? 

Plans? I'm no master.
More like Wile E. Coyote: 
My schemes self-destruct.

I chew the failure 
Then curl up into a ball.
The silly, sad wulf.