Friday, December 19, 2014

Blue Crystal Eagle/ Blue Electric Hand - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 7

Chinese Eagle. Yi Jian Fu.

Eagle Affirmation

You’ve got to understand that sighting the pair
of eagles over the block, right over our house,
not more than twenty feet above the roof,
so massive their wings pull at the corrugated
tin sheeting even with gentlest tilt, counteracts
bitterness against all the damage I see and hear
around me on an exclusively crisp blue morning,
when clarity is pain and even one small missing
wattle tree, entirely vanquished since I was last here
at home—I still find this hard to say—is agony;
a region is not a pinpoint and a different compass
works in my head, having magnetics for all
directions and all pointing to one spot
I know and observe as closely as possible;
and even one small vanished or vanquished
wattle tree is agony close to death for me,
where I find it hard to breathe to feed myself
to get past the loss; but the pair of eagles
still appearing and keeping their sharp
and scrupulous eyes honed, overrides
this ordeal, though I wish their victims
life too and their damage is traumatic
as anything else; that’s as much sense
or nonsense as I can make in such blue light.

John Kinsella


Kin 155: Blue Crystal Eagle

I dedicate in order to create
Universalizing mind
I seal the output of vision
\With the crystal tone of cooperation
I am guided by the power of accomplishment
I am a galactic activation portal
Enter me.

Higher dimensions are already all present here, but the higher dimensions are available only through the mind, understood as the medium of consciousness, just as space is the medium of the mind.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

Anahata Chakra

Thursday, December 18, 2014

White Spectral Wizard/ White Lunar World-Bridger - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 6

Jaguar with Heart. Chichen Itza. (c) PARI.

The Old Slave-Music

Blow back the breath of the bird,
    Scatter the song through the air,
There was music you never heard,
    And cannot hear anywhere.

It was not the sob of the vain
    In the old, old dark so sweet,
(I shall never hear it again,)
    Nor the coming of fairy feet.

It was music and music alone,
    Not a sigh from a lover’s mouth;
Now it comes in a phantom moan
    From the dead and buried South.

It was savage and fierce and glad,
    It played with the heart at will;
Oh, what a wizard touch it had—
    Oh, if I could hear it still!

Were they slaves? They were not then;
    The music had made them free.
They were happy women and men—
    What more do we care to be?

There is blood and blackness and dust,
    There are terrible things to see,
There are stories of swords that rust,
    Between that music and me.

Dark ghosts with your ghostly tunes
    Come back till I laugh through tears;
Dance under the sunken moons,
    Dance over the grassy years!

Hush, hush—I know it, I say;
    Your armies were bright and brave,
But the music they took away
    Was worth—whatever they gave.

Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt 


Kin 154: White Spectral Wizard

I dissolve in order to enchant
Releasing receptivity
I seal the output of timelessness
With the spectral tone of liberation
I am guided by my own power doubled
I am a galactic activation portal 
Enter me.

Every culture has its particular set of images and symbols that define the nature of mind and consciousness in everyday life.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

Manipura Chakra

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Red Planetary Skywalker/ Red Magnetic Serpent - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 5

Quetzalcoatl from the Codex Borgia.

Red Skywalker 

Fly to the Nearness
Of outer Space –

Where Skywalkers
Pace and explore

 Galaxies spring
From Sound and Light –

Fractals sing
 Through the shimmering Night.

Kleomichele Leeds


Kin 153: Red Planetary Skywalker

I perfect in order to explore
Producing wakefulness
I seal the output of space
With the planetary tone of manifestation
I am guided by the power of birth
I am a galactic activation portal
Enter me.

Hanukkah (Jewish) begins at sundown today. From the point of fourth and fifth dimensions, timespace is a cube.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

Visshudha Chakra

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Yellow Solar Human/ Yellow Cosmic Seed - Rhythmic Moon of Equality, Day 4

Sunflower Sutra

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look at the sunset over the box house hills and cry.
Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.
The oily water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.
Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust—
—I rushed up enchanted—it was my first sunflower, memories of Blake—my visions—Harlem
and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes Greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past—
and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye—
corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,
leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,
Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!
The grime was no man’s grime but death and human locomotives,
all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis’ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt—industrial—modern—all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown—
and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos—all these
entangled in your mummied roots—and you there standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!
A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!
How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of the railroad and your flower soul?
Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive?
You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!   
And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not!
So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter,
and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack’s soul too, and anyone who’ll listen,
—We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not dread bleak dusty imageless locomotives, we’re golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our own eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision

Allen Ginsberg, 1955


Kin 152: Yellow Solar Human

I pulse in order to influence
Realizing wisdom
I seal the process of free will
With the solar tone of intention
I am guided by the power of elegance
I am a galactic activation portal
Enter me.

We are using words and images as a bridge to indicate the level of alteration within our self-perception, consciousness and in our own genetic coding that is now occurring.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

Svadhistana Chakra

Monday, December 15, 2014

Blue Galactic Monkey/ Blue Crystal Night - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 3

Self Portrait with Monkey. Frida Kahlo. 1938.

The Animal Store

If I had a hundred dollars to spend,
Or maybe a little more,
I'd hurry as fast as my legs would go
Straight to the animal store

I wouldn't say, "How much for this or that?"
"What kind of a dog is he?"
I'd buy as many as rolled an eye,
Or wagged a tail at me!

I'd take the hound with the drooping ears
That sits by himself alone;
Cockers and Cairns and wobbly pups
For to be my very own.

I might buy a parrot all red and green,
And the monkey I saw before,
If I had a hundred dollars to spend
Or maybe a little bit more.

Rachel Field


Kin 151: Blue Galactic Monkey

I harmonize in order to play
Modeling illusion
I seal the process of magic
With the galactic tone of integrity
I am guided by the power of vision
I am a galactic activation portal
Enter me.

Confusion is an illusory mind-created dilemma meant to be overcome.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

Ajna Chakra

Sunday, December 14, 2014

White Resonant Dog/ White Spectral Wind - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 2

Homer with Christmas Ribbon Collar.

I Started Early – Took my Dog

I started early – took my dog
And visited the Sea
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me –

And Frigates – in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands –
Presuming Me to be a Mouse –
Aground – opon the Sands –

But no Man moved Me – till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe –
And past my Apron – and my Belt
And past my Boddice – too –

And made as He would eat me up –
As wholly as a Dew
Opon a Dandelion’s Sleeve
And then – I started – too – 

And He – He followed – close behind –
I felt His Silver Heel
Opon my Ancle – Then My Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl –

Until We met the Solid Town –
No one He seemed to know –
And bowing – with a Mighty look
At me – The Sea withdrew -

Emily Dickenson 


Kin 150: White Resonant Dog

I channel in order to love
Inspiring loyalty
I seal the process of heart
With the resonant tone of attunement
I am guided by the power of spirit
I am a galactic activation portal
Enter me.

From the galactic vantage point there is the drama in heaven. Then there is the drama on earth, and finally, a resurrection; the ultimate return of the Eternal.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

Muladhara Chakra