Today is the seventy fifth year of the bombing of Hiroshima. Many years ago I picked up a small book by John Hersey simply called Hiroshima. 108 pages long, it took me a month to read it such was the horror. Written in beautiful simplicity it shook me to the core , hence I took […]
There is nothing in the city , and no man needs nothing. I was invited to a dance. Not your ordinary dance this was a Sema ,the sacred dance of the Sufi. It came about some say through grief of one’s unconditional love of another. Shams , a beggar bum dervish madman of wisdom came […]
There was nothing special about living above a laundry. I had a concrete Buddha on the window sill looking over junkies and school children. My Buddha saw all sorts of tits and cunts. It was Fitzroy and hip , well it was sort of hip except for us poor cunts on Hanover Street. The Chinese […]
He lived in a hut not far from the monastery . It was tiny , an old wood hut like Jeramiah Johnson. He told me he was a crazy poet in the 1960’s. Golden Park was big time in San Francisco. He knew poets who knew poets and ended up in the Paris Review thirty […]
Walking long road summerchild through green hills laden with bushlands of smoke and song, walking Buddha road of crazy wisdom vajraanya chants between roo and fog and insane Tara moons , walking road of gone casino, lost dollars , long lost steps ringing girlfriend with last cent accussed of infidelity during breakfast morn , walking […]
In front of me is a giant white gum tree, it’s boughs reminds of nakedness, flesh, eroticism of nature hardly recognised. Looking at the gum I think of the last time we made love on your old milk crate bed wearing a pork pie hat quoting Patti Smith while I told you about the light […]
Werner Herzog uses the ship to be dragged over the mountain in real time. One of the film’s engineers on the movie said to Herzog , ‘ why are you doing this?’ ‘ Because it’s a great metaphor ‘. ‘ A metaphor for what’, asked the engineer . Herzog replied, ‘ I don’t know’. 😃
When I was growing up in the west you always knew where you came from by smell. Crossing the Maribyong river, either leaving or returning to city or home, it was the stench of the tannery that curled your hair with horror. You had to hold your breath otherwise you might vomit your last meal […]
There is no one on this road but me. I was waiting for the bell to call us for meal time when I felt the presence of someone or something behind me. I swivelled around to meet an old lady stooped over , her face beautifully defined with age. ” Can you feel the sacredness […]
BillyPilgrim 