G. Michael Vasey's Blog: The Wacky World of Dr. Vasey, page 85

The House on Our Street

I posted photos of some of the decorative pieces on houses down our street the other day amongst which were representations of the green man, Hermes, Gorgons, Mary & Jesus and masons. Plainly, this wealthy street had some sort of masonic connection on the part of its owners or its builder. If perhaps you wonder how I can be so confident in this view, then you need to look at one particular house on the street…

I think the hexagrams (triangle and compass) give the game away…..

This is what our street looked like around 1920 just after all of these houses were completed.

Trams no longer run down the street however.

Apparently, many of these houses were built by Frantisk Pawl, an architect who was a Knight of the order of St. Gregory and won many awards for architecture in Brno. It was he who built houses replete with stone mason and masonic imagery and yet it was he who was bestowed apparently a knighthood by the Holy See for services to the Roman Catholic church.

Just at the bottom of our street are the sensational art nouveaux Tivoli buildings – also replete with masonic and pagan images and also designed by Mr. Pawl.

Conforming to Conformity

Patterns in thinking

Growing up like I did

Gave me food for thought

A brainwashed kid?

Taught to see your world

The way you all did

Adopting your reality from the

Bottom of the pyramid

And if I did break free

Ah, God forbid

Would you persecute me

Until I am rid

Of all those original thoughts?

Simply splendid

My mind under lock and key

Forever hid.

Tagged: Childhood memories, Consciousness, Poetry

A Barren Day and My Roots

Its one of those days when I am uninspired and don’t seem to have anything to say that I haven’t said before. No poetry, no bursts of irked energy for a good old rant and certainly no spiritually uplifting thoughts or feelings. These sorts of days happen. Perhaps its because I have done nothing but write anyway – white papers, Analyst briefing notes, articles, presentations etc. etc. I really do write for a living it seems – if you are interested in those professional writings take a look here).

So….

What then?

Just recently I have been feeling a bit homesick for Houston. I mean, Houston was home for 17-years and after being away almost 8-years, I do miss it from time to time. I miss the heat would you believe and I miss the general ambience – the buildings, restaurants, bars…. but not enough to go back and live there.

I left home when I was 18. I couldn’t wait. There was nothing wrong with home nor family. I adored my parents and have two lovely brothers. I miss the hell out of my Dad and can’t wait to see my Mum here in a few weeks time. But, I wanted to stand on my own two feet and sooner rather than later. So off I headed to Birmingham and Aston University and the to Leeds for a year and then Glasgow for two more until, with Ph.D. done, I started my career in Aberdeen. Three years in, I moved to Sunbury on Thames and two years later to Ottershaw in Surrey then on to Basingstoke, Hampshire. From there, I was off to Houston and then Dallas before returning to Hampshire only to head back to Houston again. And from Houston I went to Brno spending a couple of years in Prague along the way.

You see, I got itchy feet!

I haven’t put down roots. I like all the places I have lived but none of these places is HOME. I don’t know where home is to be honest.

They do say home is where the heart is but where is my heart? Its physically located in Brno – which is home for me at the moment – but it is rootless as I am. Perhaps this is why I see things differently sometimes. I owe and have no allegiances (save to Hull City AFC) and my passports are to me simply papers of convenience. I am not to be labelled by nationality. I am me and me is fine thank you.

But roots? I’m unsure that I will ever find my roots this side of Neverland. I still remember something from my childhood… memories of somewhere else. That somewhere felt real to me and this one just doesn’t. My roots are there wherever there is…

Perhaps my roots are to be found towards the second star to the right, and straight on till morning………

Tagged: Aging, Childhood memories

Big Man

Clouds collide

The Big Man

Upstairs is moving again

Packing his bags

And stomping his feet

Thunder rolls across the land

Rain falls in sheer sheets

Hanging heavy

Pregnant steam

Electricity in motion

Sparking an arc

Lightening issues forth

Flashing an angry stab

Vicious energetic force

The Big Man is angry

In fury, he spits

The elements

Fire and water

Sound and fury

Thundering flashes

Of Godlike rage

The fire of His anger

Soon subsides

Water falls more gently

Washes away the ire

And soon peace returns

Radiant warmth in azure sky

Free of all concerns

Tagged: Poetry

Faces

We live in a beautiful street just outside the city center of Brno in the Czech Republic. Its beautiful because it comprises of houses built in and around 1900 at a time when the Czech Republic was an industrial powerhouse in central Europe. The families that built these homes were wealthy and it shows in the art nouveaux decorations, construction materials and size of the homes. Designed for a well to do family and their servants, most now are apartment buildings with 3-5 families per building. I have always been intrigued by the motifs on the buildings down the street and I am reproducing some of them below. There is one building I am saving for later and will write a separate blog article on it…..

If anyone can cast light on who these faces and figures etc. might represent and wether they were mass produced or unique additions, I would love to know…

Moon Whispers – A Shameless Plug for Sales.

So as we approach another weekend and some leisure time I will give my new collection of poetry one more plug and then let it die quietly like all the others. Its the weekend, so why not spend just a small amount of money and purchase a copy of Moon Whispers? or actually, if you want a good tale of murder, magic, mayhem, parallel universes, and much much more – The Last Observer awaits you!

Moon Whispers

A new collection of 30 poems about life, reality and everything.

G. Michael Vasey understands the power of the word. In Moon Whispers, he takes obvious care not to convolute a simple message, exercising an economy of words when it is due, to reveal clean, crisp vignettes of his inner landscape. From tantalizing homages to food in “50 Shades of Food” to life’s more existential questions, as in “Touching Emptiness” and the quote inspired “So What Am I?”, readers will be more appreciative of each of their senses and yet wondering what lies beyond what they perceive with them.

Dielle Ciesco, author of The Unknown Mother: A Magical Walk with the Goddess of Sound and Your True Voice: Tools for Embracing a Fully Expressed Life

Moon Whispers is a tender and beautifully-crafted collection of poems that can touch the deepest layers of our soul. Like the sound of a favorite song on the radio or the recognition of truth in an unexpected place, it brings light and happiness into the heart with every verse.

Daniela I. Norris, author of On Dragonfly Wings and Collecting Feathers

‘Moon Whispers – A new poetry collection’ is the fourth outing into the world of lyric and melody by Michael Vasey. This continually fascinating and ever-maturing writer has succeeded in assembling a cornucopia of new ideas, visions, and comments on his personal universe and the world ‘out there’.

A title like ‘Julia Robert’s Smile’ is typical of the poet’s wry humour. These lines from another piece neatly combine word play and a satirical edge.

Bit by bit

Revelations

Byte by byte

Animations

The combination of the classic and the contemporary is never far away. A line like ‘Forged in ancient fire’ manages to sit quite comfortably with this pair in another poem seen later in the collection.

Houston, I heard you calling

Or am I confusing you with the Clash?

The piece entitled ‘All at sea’ shows Vasey’s optimism is never far away, though he often questions whether he always possesses that quality himself. The depth of his feelings combined with an acute intelligence have, however, produced the joyous lines,

Following a golden sunbeam

Tumbling through life’s dream

Besides his poetry collections, Vasey’s other forays into authorship, ‘The Mystical Hexagram’ – and his splendid novel ‘The Last Observer’ shows a varied dimension of thought and an endless imagination.

Gordon Strong, Author of The Way of Magic, Merlin – Master of Magick, and many others

Available now on Amazon sites in paperback for less than a fiver! and Kindle formats for a few pennies.

Tagged: Announcements, Books, Moon whispers, The Last Observer

Am I Alone?

I must confess that I often wonder if I am in fact alone.

I mean, are any of YOU actually REAL? Much more likely, you are all figments of my furtive imagination.

Think about it. The only thing that can really be real to us are our own experiences. Those experiences are second hand since if I touch you, it is in fact something in my brain that interprets what that touch should feel like and hell, what is ‘feeling’ anyway? Its something in my consciousness and in my brain and nothing to do with the atoms and molecules of my hand brushing against the atoms and molecules of you. Our entire experience of OUT THERE is ….. INSIDE OF US.

You do not exist people I know it. I create you in my mind and consciousness and there is just me. I am alone.

Perhaps this is really The Matrix and I paid money to play this game. Pushed into this creation for a while to experience something different? As I have written before, even though I awoke this morning and knew continuity in my life, there is no proof that yesterday ever happened. It could simply be an experience programmed into my consciousness to give me context for today. I am alone and just for the day.

Think about it. Well, if you have any reality outside of my consciousness, think about it and get back to me…. Are you real?

Or am I alone?

Tagged: Consciousness, dreaming, imagination

In the Domain of Asteroth

Several months ago I moved this blog to the WordPress.com set up from my own private hosting arrangement. It does seem to get better traffic and more readers and so I have moved my other blog too. My other blog, Asteroth’s Domain, is my original blog that in some form or other has been online since 2006. As you might imagine, its been through several reiterations but the posts there include material back to 2006. A word of warning! Asteroth’s Domain is explicitly about the occult, magic, alchemy, and reality as I see it. I don’t post there often. Perhaps once a month at most (and I will admit to adding an odd promotional item for my books there too) but if you are NOT into that kind of stuff, give it a miss. If you are, please go take a look and I hope you find something there to make you think.

The name Asteroth’s Domain wasn’t selected at random either. Asteroth is the name of a contact I established while working on the Servants of the Light first degree course in Houston, TX. Over 5-years of daily meditation and following the monthly lessons sent by mail from the Channel Isles had a huge impact on me. So much that I wrote a book about the whole thing – my first effort called Inner Journeys: Explorations of the Soul (Thoth 2005). Dolores Ashcroft-Nowicki, the current Director of Studies, very much supported the idea and kindly wrote a foreword for the book as well.

Why Domain? Well, Asteroth introduced me to a couple of locations in hyperspace or on the Astral Plane if you want. One was a place to go to meditate and contemplate and this is where I would be joined by Asteroth in what She terms the Garden of Remembrance – hence I called it Asteroth’s Domain.

Anyway, this is my invitation to you all to come over and visit with me and Asteroth in our domain….. Hope to see ya’ll there!

Tagged: Announcements, Asteroth, Asteroths Domain

The Seemingly Forgotten Book

Of all the books I have written, The Mystical Hexagram stands out for me. The hexagram was a bloody obsession to me for about 7-years (7! ha!). I needed some help to get the book over the finish line too and the emergency services arrived to breathe life into a sagging manuscript in the form of Sue Vincent. I even put a poem or two in it.

Of Saturn and Lead I speak

The basest metal of all

Heaviness, darkness

Hidden from the light

My soul sees the night

A burden I cannot carry

Instincts abandoned return

Spiraling downward

Galena’s sulfur suffocates

All that Saturn advocates

Saturnalia is explained

Deep need for some relief

Base needs expunged

A temporary respite

Daytime during night

Daath sees from on high

These things I must leave behind

My throat begs to speak

Words chosen with care

My soul now laid bare

As Emperor I see

Father to my imaginings

Mother to my world

Saturn’s child consumed

Now- my life resumes

The publisher we chose is a small and SOL oriented publisher called Datura Press but the book is also available in Kindle format as well.

Perhaps The Mystical Hexagram is destined to be an obscure little book that once in a while someone reads. Of those that read it, fewer will understand it but I do hope that those that do have their eyes opened to what I experienced in the depths of this symbol…… I remain convinced that the secret of secrets is in there somewhere.

In an attempt to publicize the book, I also produced a short book video…

Tagged: Books, mystical hexagram

Summer is Here….

Just a couple of days ago we had the heating on and watched as horizontal rain fell and the cold wind battered the trees. Two days later and I am sat sweating in summer heat and watching small puffy white clouds slowly drift across the summer sky. An amazing transformation. An amazing show.

Two days ago it was winter

Chilly winds blew in the freezing rain

Clouds hung leaden as if to fall

Clinging to the ground in deep disdain

Today, the Sun shines brightly and

The sky is a deep azure blue

Its now summer apparently

Flowers have sprung as if on cue

Mother nature is keeping us guessing

And with our heads she is a messing

Give the Goddess our silent blessing

Unpredictably wild is she

Constantly beguiling me

Reveling in her deity