Sunday, September 13, 2015


If I could write the beauty of your eye,
The simple goodness, as you treated me;
Our descendants would turn and swear I lie:
That such unconsidered kindness could ever be.
Some plead their love and look for recompense;
And your beauty truly glows a light as well,
Shows me decrepit  in my tenderness;
I speak true of you with what I tell.
When that churl death with dust my bones shall cover,
Th' angelic force you embody late and soon,
I come not with passion as an earthly lover,
But in light that comes from far beyond the moon.
When I am gone you'll know I loved you true,
Not with anguished desperation of the hour,
Not with lust and avarice as most men do:
But with trust, and honesty, and power.

(C) William G. Milne

I have stacks of notebooks in these rooms. I've been "EXCAVATING
THE EMPIRE". as a lady says, who is dear to me.  Anyway, this
poem I snatched this morning from a page I'd never seen. I hope you enjoy these slight aspects of poetry.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015


September 8, 2015


RED WOMAN enlarged detail
Meditation is a form of prayer, make no mistake.
Or “sitting” as I like to call it, or “zazen” as the zen
people phrase it.
The big different is you are not focusing on
an external Source, rather you focus on an internal one.
But this is too simple, because after you are used to
sitting, external becomes internal. Prayers or questions
that are asked of the Lord of Hosts are often answered
through some kind of internal telepathy.
We are fools if we think that the Lord of Hosts is
working only externally. Why would we think this?
Because social norms are based on superficial
distinctions. And our understanding is all too often
based on social norms.
We assume God is external in the West. But of
course this is erroneous.
The golden fleece is hanging on a branch and
we must journey to find it. The holy Grail is a silver
chalice, is it not? Or is it a rock, a stone? Or is
it the fertile generative vulva of a maiden?
Yes, we must journey to find the Grail.
But the most important travelling we do is the
journey we do in the ‘dream time’ while
The silver mountain is within. And it is also
external. There are mountains and clifftops which
are places of power. Such places will give you further
energy in your sitting.
But really there is no need to go anywhere
once you find a place that is the axis of your own world,
your own hopes and dreams, your own guilt, shame and
regret.  Throw it all away!
But stay balanced in your sitting.
The SILVER MOUNTAIN is a symbol, an image.
When we travel through the dream time, the collective
unconscious of our species is within. We travel from image
to image, from symbol to symbol in a vast world
of half-understood archetypes.
It is not necessary to understand. Travel as if you
are asleep, but you are still awake. Journey from one
luminous point to another in the dark and the light of your
psyche’s core.
I have been around the world more than once.
I have taken ships, planes, trains and bicycles. I have
hitchhiked for more than 10,000 miles. And I have spent
many nights in mystic sitting in various places
of power around the planet.
It’s a wondrous world externally. But equally wondrous are
the galaxies within.
Don’t think of sitting as an ascetic discipline.
Sitting is a luxury, perhaps the greatest luxury of all.
It is no hardship to enter the timeless
Babes  in their mothers’ wombs are in the
timeless. We are born from the timeless
and at death we return to the timeless – that
chaste immaculate place that is beginingless
and endless – that beautiful realm where
saints and bodhisattvas are conscious still.
The signposts of the Way are in the timeless.
Images are brief maps. Symbols are signposts
along the way. Follow from one glowing point to
another. Travel wherever your heart desires.
There are great surprises in the timeless world,
the dream time.
        The divinity you find might just be your own.

(C) 2015 by W.G. Milne

Sunday, September 6, 2015



Screenshot fromSANTA'S URBAN SURVIVAL GUIDE 2014-05-17 17:54:38

        Yes, this is one of my books at It is not for the faint of heart.  It‘s packed with extreme humour from an ex-attorney who has also been in jail. Every disturbing scene is based or real violent reality or drug-induced madness and toxic psychosis, events that have really happened. Only the names have been changed and/or omitted. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but it is to my taste.
        I have always had a sadistic sense of humour and being cast naked into solitary confinement for ninety days didn't help.   Being fed at groin level by a big-hipped woman guard in a tight grey flannel skirt , what does it do? It can make you fall in love!
        But it also takes an already twisted sense of humour and twists in more. Ferments it real good – so much so that after a while you don’t care if you speak the bizarre truth - however socially unacceptable the truth may be.
         The first scene describes how to survive an attack by a 260 pound expert in the martial arts, who for years now has been lifting weights at night on major hits of speed. Lifting all night long. How to escape this monster when he’s on a near-fatal dose of PCP (Angel Dust) which really intensifies the situation, if you happen to run into him at midnight in what to you is a public park, but to him the park is a much darker reality…He's in Rome 2,000 years ago, and you're not.
        Yes, how to survive this and how to survive that – arrest while you’re hallucinating – what not sign when you wake up restrained in a forensic clinic – how to pay your criminal lawyer when you’re out of money, and what to pay him with!
        How to survive a demented fiend who is pretending to be your dentist. How to build a BONG as big as a Volkswagen. How to pretend you’re drunk in the bullpen, when really you’re extremely happy and HIGH on a massive hit of DMT or LSD 25.
         And much much more written by an author who can only laugh this way because he has formerly been in many untenable and dark places, which he is surprised he survived.
        Right now “SANTA'S URBAN SURVIVAL GUIDE” is available at,  author William Milne, as an e-book for $2.99.
        You can also get the very same book under the title, ‘A COMIC’S APPROACH TO HALLUCINATIONS AND TOXIC PSYCHOSIS”  by Walker  Ballantine for the soon to be new price of $10.00.
        This just one of my books at There are two others which I’ll write about another time.
         Enjoy the book.  (You can read the first chapter without paying a cent!) And see if you like it… 
         There is much more material to come under other titles. Only I know exactly how much.


The Rose Could Not Such A Beauty Be


The rose could not such a beauty be

If beauty did not pass away and die;

As love, the joy of love's burgeoning

Is taunted by the desolation of decay.


What was shall be again,

The future, such an ancient song,

Allows the aged - Grace in their passing

And youths to be the dancer in the song.


In summation, all words that are said

All are erased like writings in the sand;

All the mighty works of the dead

Have passed away. And what remains

For memory's sake: the sun, the sea,

Pearls, stars, rubies - these

Are not created by the hand of man.



(C)2015 by W.G.Milne

        This poem came to me all in one instant, all in one piece,
once again at 4:00 A.M.
         I remember years ago I had a crises of identity. I was awake
early in the morning and had the thought: "What am I supposed to be doing? What's my job?  What is the work I ought to pursue?"
          So I sat in my chair and looked around the room and saw
a stack of about sixteen books of poetry I had written on my shelves and on the tables and floor before me.
          "Well, I must be a poet!" I said. "I guess I'd better focus
on writing songs and poetry."
           I started living by myself, going to bed early in the evening
and waking up at 4:00 in the morning - just before dawn. It's
no hardship if you get enough sleep.
(Note: I insert the " * " between verses only because otherwise
           this system will collapse the writing into one
           long boring-looking paragraph.)