GOD COMES THROUGH THE WOUND

        "Illumination comes... through the space created
by your psychic insecurity"... ie: abandonment
complex... becomes the pearl in the half-shell... the
space through which the angels come... the jagged
hole in the chapel wall... allows... the glorious pink
fingers... the purest white chaste light of humility,
prayer and forgiveness... the white chapel sun light
of the forgiving love of God.... the law - creates the
pain, like the sand- the pearl, out of pain... and
the wound creates the space necessary, the crack
through which the dawn comes, and Maitreya, and 
the returning Christ... the light of whom even now is
a suggestion of purple out of twilight... the hint of the
dawn of the new age which transcends this base
period, Iron Age, Kali Yuga, age of doubt and
material grasping... out of this wound and pain
out of which blossoms tearful kneeling prayers 
and need for that which is beyond our powers
to come and peck at the crack in our psyches
like a mother bird does to the eggshell both
protecting and confining her baby... she breaks
open the crack.... lets in the light... out of the
crack in the eggshell ego comes the annihilation
of the shell... complete removal of confining
protection... and if the psychic space is there,
the tears and the need for prayer.... Grace will come
like a rain of forgiving light more chaste and pure
than anything you could have imagined.... and in
this divine forgiveness, this holy welcome... you
see where you are as you step out across the infinite
galactic spaces - you have come home.
        And all the Universe and Mind and Eye and
heart and soul of Soul of God overflows within you
with its blessed greeting of forgiveness... and you see...
for the first time... with eyes washed clean and
made new... that all the cosmos is your bed
and pillows, and the milky way your blanketing
warmth, and the holy blossoming fountain of eternal
truth is your comforter. For you are home... and
you know now your true identity - and you are not who 
you thought you were. And you are glad. For you are
deathless as the spring.
       The wound of your early life, the bane of your
adolescence, the pain of your earlier maturity... all
have been necessary and useful so that you could
hurt sufficiently that you would seek... and lift your
head and climb the tree at the heart of the world -
all for this - that you may see the Time of Morning.








(C)1990-2018 by W.G. Milne/ Walker Ballantine

MY FRIEND, TERRY ODD, PASSED OVER TO THE OTHER SHORE RECENTLY

        Terry Odd, a friend of mine, crossed over to the other side recently. I don't know how it happened, but I'll find out soon.

             What do I want to say other than: "God bless you, Terry?" You and I have been to some weird and wonderful places and situations together...
              ...  things that no one else will believe
now that you have gone along - and so now I have no proof.
              
             I promise to relate all these tales to you, dear reader, but this is just a short statement
of love and loss.
              
            One essential thing I have to say right now is: in many of these circumstances Terry and I laughed together, laughed deep and hard,
laughed until we fell to our hands and knees with tears in our eyes, gasping.

          Like seeing that one cow in the herd all the other cows avoided like the plague, and she waggled her head back and forth in the weirdest way. And her tongue hanging out of her mouth in the most ungainly and comical fashion.
        After smoking a big one, that is... there was nothing funnier... 

        Though I had to wrap a chain around her heels five days later and drag her with a tractor past the gravel pit into the swamp out back... way out back. There was nothing funny about that.

         Terry used to say he was odd by name and odd by nature, and that was true all right. He's also a very funny man.

         Now I suppose you're meeting the folks in God's other kingdom. He counts the circle of our days.


          God bless you, my friend. Travel well.





          I'll meet you next time around.

          Thank you for the fun we had and the joy
we shared under the open sky.

ONLY LOVE MAY STAY THE SAME

What lasts, when everything else passes away?


Strength passes. Virility passes, however many midlife crisis panics men go through, however many bright red hot sports cars fat & balding middle-aged men buy...

It's hard to accept. But everything passes away.

It's one of the reasons for humility.

I recorded this with Clayton Alexander Johnson and Dougie Johnson above the Zazibar Strip Palace at 3:00A.M. in the morning.


IN THIS WORLD THOUGH EVERYTHING
   MUST CHANGE
           YOU KNOW THAT ONLY LOVE
MAY STAY THE SAME


(C)1980-2018 by W.G. Milne

All rights reserved.

GREYHOUND BUS mpeg 4

I was singing and playing music with the band each week on Toronto stages. The band was
JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS.

 I'd often go to the north to see some rivers and mountains and clifftops where I'd built a hut with a woodstove in it for shelter.
         Often I'd hop the midnight bus for passage. And I'd take the 2:00AM bus back in four or five days. I have a lot of memories of those buses in the dark.
          This is where I wrote this song.

Note:  This is my folk singer's voice. In front of a six man band I kinda had to howl. This voice would not be heard in front of a full band. When you're singing loudly - your voice rises up an octave.
            I miss this voice.

"AND THAT GREYHOUND BUS ROLLS ON
AS SOON AS IT ARRIVES, IT'S GONE
AND THROUGH THE LEAVES I SEE
       THE DAWN
TURN TO LIGHTS OF NEON,
AS THAT BUS MOVES ON."





(C) 1987-2018 by W.G. Milne

PASSAGES FROM PASSAGES

x

I left the city and took "the narrow path to the deep north".

 In the north I built a cabin out of oak logs on top of a 150 foot cliff. 

In that cabin I worked on clarifying the meaning of some of the texts found at

Nag Hammadi, Egypt, 1945.

Most times when I have difficulty with a passage, the sunlight would pour through. 

On a cloudy day, the skies would open and the passage would write itself.

Once I was working by a campfire in the bush at night, and I was totally stifled.

A passage in the Gospel of Philip had me stumped. I was staring into the campfire

and couldn't do a thing. After a few moments the Northern Lights descended

and the woods lit up all around me, and the passage basically finished itself.

No further thought went into the matter. The pen just wrote.

Later I was wondering whether I had imagined the whole thing. But I had

a visitor in the cabin, and she came running out and said, "The cabin just got

really bright."

This sort of thing was not a rare occurance, but happened frequently.

Many different kinds of experience struck me as not merely odd, but

certainly a sign of Divine Intelligence within all things.

                                          *

Through Realization. or Revelation, or Satori, Enlightenment,

the Knowing of the early Christian Gnostics, through this Experience

which is fundamentally the same in all cultures, "identity" becomes

"Identity" and the seeker becomes One with God. Through an annihilation

of the ego, an implosion occurs which destroys the shell of the egg,

and the mystic achieves spiritual maturity. This is by no means

an easy process.

What we have forgotten, because we have been lead astray, is this:

it is not the name that is important. All our holy men have been murdered;

our heros have been slaughtered, because of names. These holy ones

would be horrified and enraged if they knew their names

are being used for such hellish purposes!

The very names of our holy men have been used as a 

justification

for slaughter! Also our names for God. In the name of Christ,

in the name of Allah, in the name of Krisna, we kill each others' children.

Then distracted, we allow those who have lied to us for thousands of years,

those who are aligned with Power and Greed, we allow them to fool us again -

Don't be blinded by names - don't be led astray. 

Allow the name of God to be nameless. "I AM THAT I AM"

 is a good nameless name,

         Or: THE ONE WHO IS CREATING US.

Creation never takes place in the past tense. 

It is a continuous birthing.

I sometimes us the phrase: "THE TRUE ONE" because no names attach to it.

*

The Lord of light cannot be invoked. His grace is like the wind;

it goes where it wishes. When Grace fills you,

the room seems to lighten up a bit. Other people notice it, too,

that the room has brightened. Suddenly your are filled with

love and confidence. We can all be mystics.

 

*

The answer is to take the energy of anger and use it as fuel

for meditation. Take the fuel of this rage and

 look within to the new country of the soul, the pure

land where men cease from grasping.

Look within and see until the mirror appears,

the mirror that is no mirror, but is the eye through which

you see God. And God sees you also through the same mirror,

and you know and you are known. The two become one,

the division between you and God disappears.

The One Light shines eternally,

and will forever shine within true men and women the world over.

There are many pathways to One Place. 

It is simple.

Do not be confused by names. Your duty is the Holy

Quest to your soul, to that which you have always been,

even before your parents were born.

I asked God one time, "What am I?" God answered in a loud Voice,

"You are an empty vessel." 

It is through this empty vessel

that I write to you these words.

(C)2018 BY W.G. Milne

NO Where To Go But Where You Are

This is a song I wrote while hitchhiking across Canada - from Toronto to the west coat of  Vancouver Island, to taste and have a dip in the Pacific Ocean - then back eastwards on a northern route across the prairies and into north western Ontario, then into Quebec... Cibougamau  (sp?)
Chicutami, then down through Quebec City, down the Gaspe... then all the way up to Sidney and over
onto the Rock where I did a performance in a fish cleaning place...
          Then back west again to Toronto and North Bay... back to the bush and my hut in the wood.
           I left out a lot of places... the entire trip was somewhere around 10,000 miles. After a while, I didn't care whether I caught a ride or not. I just that whatever happened, no hurry anymore, no destination.
          It was enough to be where I was. I'd lean back against a highway sign and take notes. That's
when I wrote this song, with this attitude.

          Of course, it didn't take long before I wanted to go to a bar somewhere, but you get the idea:

NOWHERE TO GO BUT WHERE YOU ARE 


      Hope you enjoy.






Song -  (C) 1990-2018 by W.G. Milne
Video and photo-art  (C) 2018 by KLGE

BELLS - a poem

bells

____

Behind me

the sound of windbells

in a wisp of wind

no, I'm mistaken,

it is the bell

at the train  tracks;

a wooden arm falls

blocking cars

no, it is the ringing

of the churchbells;

to drive away demons

ah, it is the silence

of my father's spirit

ringing

then silence

ringing

in my mind

a soul

who visits me.

                                                                          W.G.Milne

                                                                           North Bay

                                                                            July 28/09

                                                                              1:48P.M.

                                                                                 Nearing midsummer

THE BEAUTIFUL AND PAINFUL DANCE WE DO IN ORDER TO AWAKEN

        The beautiful and painful dance we do in order to awaken.

        People scattered in all directions, looking for something... looking for a transporting love.

        The expanding of love beyond desire. *


                                        *

        from The School for Mystics

        Find a place of power.

        A place where you are balanced and grounded and you can feel the energy
of the earth and rock rise up through
you.

        There are places where the northern
lights will dance in a circle above you -
often a high land or cliff between two
descending water courses - a river to the
east, a river to the west.
        Or a place above and between two
canyons.
         You'll know the place when you find
it. It ought to be free of distractions. The
place could even be indoors, so long as
you are grounded there.
         Do "River-Watching Meditation" **
and see what arises within you. Never
try to still the mind - rather watch what
passes by in the river within you.

         Until you are comfortable with a
breathing emptiness, focus perhaps
on a saying that holds your attention,
such as:

DISCERN THE SIZE OF THE WATER

 
                             or

IN THE BEGINNING IS THE WORD

                            or

THE BEAUTIFUL AND PAINFUL DANCE
 WE DO IN ORDER TO AWAKEN


This is the first step in a long journey.


When I speak of the moment of Realization,
it is also the moment of Knowing, the moment
of Gnosis.

Monopolized Christianity of the Empire Church
never speaks of the necessity of a Quest. In all other religions a journey of sorts is necessary.
Call it an inner journey, if you wish.
        Space is not the final frontier. The final frontier is the Mind within. It is deeper than the ocean; it is more vast than the galaxies. It
is the journey to Home.







*T.S. Eliot

** I've written of this type of meditation
     elsewhere. I'll locate it and post it here.





(C)2018 by W.G. Milne

NOWHERE TO GO BUT WHERE YOU ARE

I wrote this song hitchhiking across Canada. I started in Toronto, passed thru north-western Ontario, then on to Winnipeg, then across the prairies... into the mountains - up and over, coasting down the Fraser Valley to Vancouver... then to the west coast of Vancouver Island. Then, soon as we tasted the Pacific Ocean, we turned around and hitched back all the way into Northern Quebec... Chicutami, Chibougameau (SP?) ...round the Gaspe, up to Sidney... and on and on and finally back to North Bay. That's when I wrote this song... eventually, I'd lie back against a road sign and I didn't care if I got a ride or not... Then the song came to me. (C)2017 by W.G.Milne. I'm singing and playing rhythm guitar and harmonica. Peter Rowland was the engineer & also played great lead guitar.
The idea was that the song should sound like the waves coming in and the waves going out --- at equal tempo. Not a normal rhythm for a Western song. Song is called, 'NOWHERE TO GO BUT WHERE YOU ARE." This is the take with no mixed songs.**
Hope you enjoy it. Cheers!😉😉


To be released with my next album, "WILD KINGDOM".
See many of the songs that will be on that album at William
Milne Channel on You Tube.






   ( C    ) 1988-2018 by W.G. Milne

ONCE AND NOW

it's 3:00 A.M.
time is in limbo,
bardo
I think of riding
my motorcycle along
a paved road in the
country one Sunday
morning

I think of howling
through a village at 4:00 A.M.
at 120 mph
in my forest green
Volvo
sports car
the village silent
as wind through
a field

I think of standing
in  the bow of
a ship bounding through
the luxurious large
30 foot waves of the
sunny Pacific

... after the typhon
not moving towards
the typhon
but cruising away

I think of the gorgeous
full-bodied woman
lowering herself
down on the large bulb
of the gear shift
at 90 mph
up highway 11
at 2:30 A.M.
gearing down 
for the vibrations
and the passion 


now time is in the
bardo
not moving towards
nor away
from 
anything

I no longer have
the motorcycle;
I no longer have
my house in the
country

the gorgeous woman
is no longer
with me

I no longer have
a ship to sail proudly
west into the setting
sun of the Pacific
Ocean

what we have
we lose

what once was
becomes now
in limbo
between the hours
I have nothing
but this
easy peace

no longer getting
and spending
acquiring and
defending...

what a relief
it is.





(C)2018 by W.G. Milne

THIS HARD OLD ROAD -

         A song about growing up into the place where you are.

WRITING WITH THE LORD OF HOSTS

         And I'd sit on the edge of the cliff,
my spine straight, and let my mind clear,
let the internal Eternal River Ganges 
wash all thoughts clean... I truly
became the empty vessel.
          Twenty or so minutes later (I had
no sense of time during moments like that)
I'd look at the text again... and as I
looked once more closely at the text
the clouds would open and the sun would blaze
down upon the pages and I'd start to write.
          When I felt the holy Presence,
I went back to work... and my hand flowed
and His Hand wrote... and some time
later I'd put the book down.
           I'd  return from the City of the ancient words,
the primordial  City which was becoming
the future  Holy City on a hill. The
two times merged into One Present time,
as they always do when one is deep
in meditation. 
           The ancient was redeemed by the new,
and the new was washed clean by these
ancient words of Truth.
           Ancient Jerusalem was becoming
New Jerusalem, and the bells were ringing
in the mind of God;  and some kind
of glory was taking place around me.
The sky opened and the angels were singing.
            There were times when I was
afraid to take my eyes from the page
of the book, and look around me. I was
afraid of what I would become.










(C) 1980-2018 BY W.G. Milne

"UP UP UP" - JOHNNY ROCK AND THE MAINSTREET BAND

A number of PUNK BANKS opened for JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS in the punk era... I liked punk music and it's simplified, raw values.
         One such band was the BIFFS. They
sang a song they wrote called: "I BROKE MY MOTHER'S CORNING WARE AND NOW I HAVE TO PAY!"
         One or two women from the Ontario College of Art showed up to some of these performances wearing nothing but cellophane... Playing hot songs can get you worked up big time some nights.
And to see these naked women --- well, I found it to be a moving experience, to say the least.
       These were the days before when women started lining up at the stage.
        "UP UP UP" is a raw hot rock song --- a song that reflected the struggle to survive through extreme psychological difficulties of smothering expectations... problems that almost smothered me completely.
         But if you persist in your deviant beloved dreams, chances are that all those mine captains
will give up on trying to change your nature...
         Be stubborn. Never let go of what you love.
Following your dreams and what you love, this is the path to freedom.

                           ***********

JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS live at Wylders - ACID RAIN

This is recorded live on the stage at Wylders, towards the end of a year.  A taste or Rock-Reggae!    JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS   (also known as The Batch)


You can hear more songs by JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS on The William Milne Channel on You Tube - lots more songs there. 

Hope you enjoy.

Photo Art by KLGE   Paintings by Johnny Rock/B. Milne


as to this song:

(C)2018 by W.G. Milne
All rights reserved

THE RULE OF ONE

The Eye with which we see God,

Is the Eye with which we are seen.

As we know, so are we known,

As we forgive, so are we forgiven.

As we have given gifts,

So there is much that we are given.

And as we grow to love,

O how we are loved and forgiven,

Even before we have knelt to pray.
















(C)2018 BY W.G. Milne

The City

Having been to the end of the night,
Having touched the dawn that meets
        the city lights
         neon, real
          the turning of a wheel
Annihilating
         the chatter under the fluorescence
         the clatter of feet on cobbled streets
         ancient city's dreams,
Here unrealized, unredeemed, the time
         what was that ancient's cry?
What were your words, distant friend,
         so far into the dusk, so long
         gone upon the river's side
          like sludge that washes the shores
         of Thames, old friends what was your cry?
Why did your voice rise?
Or was it nothingness I always heard,
         empty in a word?

Ancients, I know I heard you speak.
          I hear you beside me now, upon
          these streets
          by this water's shore;
          I heard you would go journeying...

Then let it be
          come walk with me, this way
          upon the ancient city
           her breath of fire upon the day,
           burning lady
            dressed half-way;
            raise your legs,
            we will not tarry, longer than to
            plant a kiss; we have all been
            through this, day upon day; we need
            to make a new way across the waves.

The dawn meets the grey
            of towers
             the river, silently
              the ghostly eyes behind the skull
               that beheld your city.





(C)1980-2018 by W.G. Milne

HOW TO GET MEDIA ATTENTION WHEN YOU'RE RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT

HOW TO GET MEDIA ATTENTION WHEN YOU’RE RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT

________________________________________________________

(1) SAY OR DO SOMETHING OUTRAGEOUS.

(2) There will be a furor, an outraged protest

about what you have said or done…

INSULT THE PROTESTERS!

(3) When various groups come out against you,

and even more  of the same ethnic groups

start to hate you…

INSULT THEIR PARENTAGE!

 BERATE AND MOCK AND INSULT THIS TYPE OF PEOPLE,

STRESS THEIR  INADEQUACIES!!

  MAKE FUN OF THEIR LAUGHABLE LACK OF MECHANICAL SKILLS…

INSULT THE QUALITY OF THE ROTTEN CARS THEY MAKE AND

DRIVE

(4) When asked by the press what the hell you think you’re doing,

explain to the reporters that they are not well enough educated

to even write a sentence properly. State that their editors,

all of them, are mentally challenged; and the owners are

so insufficient financially, that: “THEY COULDN’T EVEN RUN

A SHOESHINE PARLOR!”

THEN OFFER PROOF OF WHAT YOU SAY!

(5 )  When people scream that you are a racist… Put on a show,

LOOK PERPLEXED, AS IF YOU ARE THINKING ON THE MATTER.

DON’T CLARIFY. DO NOT EXPLAIN…DISAVOW!!

THEN MAKE A STATEMENT THAT IS OBVIOUSLY UNTRUE.

(6) Enjoy a quiet interlude, have cognac for

a few hours… watch cable T.V.

CALL UP A TELEVISION STATION AND INSULT A POPULAR

FEMALE NEWS ANCHOR. TELL HER SHE’S TOO STUPID

TO READ THE NEWS, SAY YOU CAN SEE HER ARTICULATION

SLIPPING!

TELL HER YOU’LL GIVE HER A JOB ANYWAY…

YOU’LL PAY HER PLENTY TO COME  OVER TO YOUR HOTEL

AND MASSAGE YOUR FEET FOR A FEW HOURS…

(5) BE SURE TO INSULT YOUR POLITICAL OPPONENTS.

EVERY CHANCE YOU GET, CALL ONE OF THEM A LIAR!

STRESS THAT YOUR OTHER OPPONENT IS TOO SMALL

OF STATURE TO EVER BE PRESIDENT, AND HIS BRAIN IS

TOO SMALL   TO CONSIDER  BIG ISSUES.

(5) BE SURE TO INSULT YOUR POLITICAL OPPONENTS.

EVERY CHANCE YOU GET, CALL ONE OF THEM A LIAR!

STRESS THAT YOUR OTHER OPPONENT IS TOO SMALL

OF STATURE TO EVER BE PRESIDENT, AND HIS BRAIN IS

TOO SMALL   TO CONSIDER  BIG ISSUES.

Hire extra security and learn to duck quickly

(6) GO BACK TO NUMBER 1

AND REPEAT ALL FIVE STEPS

DAILY.

(C)2016 by W.g. Milne