Red dust in the Christmas sun

Shantivanam means forest of peace , it’s a Christian ashram that sits by the river Cauvery. Before you get to the river you will see a funeral pyre , beyond that, the forest , beyond that all of India. At the small village the bus driver stops not far from the canal. Opposite is a […]

The Seaweed Hotel

3. I had come to find God to become a monk and live the rest of my life as someone in search of the holy. Hey, someone hit the rewind button please. Who am I kidding. I was broken when I was a boy and I was still broken as a man and I held […]

Land of trance

2. You have to surrender to the madness, to the constant cacophony of sound that assails you night and day. You have to surrender to the extremes of human existence. Death and life dance down the same avenue of trees like in a Woody Allen movie. You walk past patched up hovels and a mother […]

Samosa Salvation

Gripped by uncertainty I fled to India shambolic and desperate seeking light to deliver me from the dark horrors of Melbourne life. I wanted God in a hurry and India had over thirty million of them , I wasn’t greedy, one would do, as there sure as hell wasn’t one back in the jungle of […]

Blogger gaga land

Staying at the youth hostel in Monterey was special in so many ways. I was there as a holding point for Big Sur. I was headed for a monastery about an hour past the Henry Miller library. At the hostel there was something surreal about it more than your usual run of the mill joint. […]

A travel worn road

the late sun sounds cicadas roar comfort everytime I go there around Christmas I think of that road just walked India, the Gatwick hotel, the bus ride up the highway and the power of prayer his face shining in evening light four days before Christ resurrection to a place vaguely familiar a place I’d been […]

Guys & gals

‘‘Twas gang out of Melbourne Cup three , four years ago. Guy & gals. I hairy eyebrow beast. Arm on shoulder poet , next to him , poet owner of Collected Works, next to him musician and off course the gals at the Stingo hotel sounds like a William Styron novel.