I am just now catching up on two works by prolific occult historian Tobias Churton: Occult Paris and Aleister Crowley in America. Having long been an admirer of Churton’s work—his Gnostic Philosophy and Invisible History of the Rosicrucians are important contributions to the field—I was looking forward to these two volumes...
We Will Meet Under The Bodhi Tree Two blocks north the Zen center stretches in a sun salutation. One block south the Fellowship blinks its sleepy doors to greet the coffee makers and flower arrangers. We buckle on our Mary Janes you tie your soft-soled shoes we toss the...
After my grandfather’s death, my mother mailed me a pack of random photographs she found on his desk. The poems collected here refer to those photos, with each photo representing a tarot card and my attempts to make sense of his life and to reconcile our vastly different spiritual...
I shine like a radioactive isotope, on a day when the water is as dark as the primordial soup, mixed with few capsules of my forgotten nightmares. Dreams are awfully lonely. Add more mute stones and molten salts to make it your lonelier reality. We wait for the lights,...
