Thursday, December 12, 2013

Far Above the Clouds the sky borrowed Venus' birthing bowl, a shell she shoved down while the sun bowed it's fiery head..and lacey curtains or crocheted tablecloths with perfect wing chairs; we left the place with it's shellac'd wings it's sublime to the spirit in the sky, so upward- heavenly bound to hold sway we looked up; we felt the trouble coming the low rumble, the bass jumped up flapped and yaw, for there, were more agains..the movement was the rocked earth effacing the wall that held back the bleak night held tight by too high breaker walls; we'd eventually breach..it was for our souls which stood ready to fly free still ..surrounded by illusion which grounded us to earthen soil; a comfort to locate this unbridled energy in a place setting we the pure vessel-.of limitless sky-born earth...endless bits blown across vast expanse..in red-orange so intense you could taste iron or sanguine; these dreams dissolved into a fullness of light' an electric-body resurrection~

Monday, October 21, 2013

Ascension Earth : Hilarion's Weekly Message for October 20-27, 2013 ...

Ascension Earth : Hilarion's Weekly Message for October 20-27, 2013 ...: therainbowscribe.com Beloved Ones, Behold yourselves in the mirror and you will see that the transformation of your phys...this reminds me of Uri Geller last evening..i saw a magician's hat..and heard "magic hat"..? on CoasttoCoast last night...

Life at Willow Manor: The morning after ...

Life at Willow Manor: The morning after ...: Let us have wine and women, myrth and laughter, Sermons and soda water the day after. Lord Byron, from  Don Juan Full Englis...Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.
Lord Byron (who did reply to Wadsworth) The woolly night was wonderful~ and so very cozy by the fire this mornin'~Thanks again Tess for a jolly good time!~!

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Willow Manor Ball 2013

THE WILLOW BALL EXPERIENCE

THE EVENT OF THE SEASON



EVERYONE WHO WAS ANYONE WAS THERE 

LIZ WAS SPOTTED IN THE VESTIBULE


A very special thank-you to my date for the incredible, memorable evening; and the entire pack...and dearest; you know who you are...

An Intimate feel to the evening with much music wafting from the rafters of Willow Manor, imbibing all with an etheric air at this Hunter Moon time. Very special, indeed...

May all your Most Magical Willow Manor Dreams Come True~ See You Next Year...

((( love )))

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

White Fang ~ Adaptation via Adoption

 i did tell you about the wolf encounter up north? I was walking in February chill of -70C in the coldest recorded spot near White River, Ontario, Home of Winnie the Pooh. This day would change my life forever, for when I chanced to see this white dog, he immediately came over to me and he followed me home. He did not appear cold at all, no frozen feet, nothing to think that he was suffering at all. Undoubtedly he was a stray because he was very sociable and extraordinarily friendly. At that time, I had two female boxer-mix dogs, Nibbles the mother and Blackie, her daughter. The lovely stray had perfect markings, and a vibrant glow about him. He ate some food and water in front of my dogs that just sat there watching with wide-eyed wonder his every move. He seemed so very grateful after this libation, and I knew there was something very different about him. I looked deep into his dark eyes, where I met an intelligence I won't soon forget. At this moment I had some strong suspicions we were entertaining a white wolf, yet I did not fear him. The other dogs seemed in awe of this white dog. For the next few days it followed me as I walked my children 3 blocks to school each frosty morning. I wondered why it always insisted on going outside after it was fed. I tried to keep it indoors but it did not want this, yet every morning there he was waiting for food and drink. On the third morning as my two small children and myself were walking to school everything was glistening, the snow appeared as diamonds to me; everything seemed so magical. I do believe I was falling in love with my foundling. It would be this bright February morning when White Fang proved his mettle. I had decided to train him, and I had tied my blue scarf to his neck, a way of very slowly adopting to him and him to us; so that he would stay always with us. I felt a lull on the scarf, and looked down to see that White Fang was decidedly not moving, in fact he had stopped walking and stood engarde, his head erect, his right foot pointed. Suddenly, a huge dog, a Great Dane was trying to attack us. White Fang stood his ground. When the Dane came upon the White Fang all of his motions stopped cold frozen and crystalized on the burningly cold midair. I recall the Dane's foggy breath; a hanging fear; suspended over my head upon the cloud. I had closed my eyes upon impact, as the dog had come inches from my face. I worried about The Call of The Wild. Yet when The Dane noticed the look in the eyes of White Fang, he immediately ran back to his Goth master, as far away as his lithe legs would move; into the opposite direction, near the deepest part of the frozen tundra, near the petrified woods. To this day I am not sure if I was entertaining a White Wolf, an Angel, or Bobby? Perhaps all three; remembering the Celtic knot~!!






 




Thursday, May 9, 2013

Mag#160 I Can Do PICASSO

mag 160

teaching taught us
by the Master's hand
to etch ever deeper
into the surround of soulful things
to recreate this
permanent place and eternal marker
in impatient impasto 
yes, it is 
of the Artist
of the Art
that brought us
dark age caves
into the light bright
rebrith of night
wages of sin
begun again
to breath anew
refeshed causeway
coursing through
short strokes
of incandescence
teasingly bright
the golden door of latenT energies
submerged to FINd the fountaihead
all over the canvas
past and futre
exit together
to admit one
moment only
the immediate
intensely driven
macca for macho
teasiingly bringht eyed
Picasso
retreating to Avignon
to the DesMoiselles there
floozies flouncing
Minotaurs bouncing
birds doing what birds do
recreating
all these
ancient old molds
forms that  the cloud shaman sold
earth's brainstem shooting her stars
seemly so
Luna is not
to be forgotten
yet so forgotten
 seemingly so
many lanky models
languor in the flesh
smokin' hot years spent
immobilizing the
latent spirit of energy 
so that there would be
nothing left anyway
laughingly so droll
you of the blue mood
tickup the palette
of the black moon eyes
He's all over you
and so underneath everything
dancing up a storm with chimeras
halflings or quarterlings
so wonton of springflings
yarns made yaw, yeah woven
tapping out the rhythm
of sticky desire
wishing the joy of life
would wash over us
like his 
sexual innuendo
taught so well
in the Altier
passion's urgent emergency
stoking the Minotaurs energy 
holding nothing back
but centered perspective of intent
the muse does plays with the Master's hand
albiet somewhat sparsely
mincing the muscled spare parts 
the ancient dream connects
with this place
in the painting
Sky masculine softens to sacred
Peachy done on the beach
via sexual healing
incantation
I
can
do
Picasso

~Chiccoreal~