Author Archive

In Every Moment

Being here all the time,
Here knowing everything,
In every moment;
Yet most of the time not knowing,
Not feeling, not living it all.

When I was born I lost a world
In which I had lived an eternity.
Can you imagine that?
Imagine losing so much?
Feel what it’s like, to have everything
You knew taken away?

Of course it’s as if you have been
Hollowed out from inside.
But at the same time,
There is an entire new universe to experience.
The losing, the gaining, all at once.

Then there’s what follows the gaining.
My grandmother succoured me.
She lifted me out of my loss,
Out of feeling I was dying.
It was she who gave me the gift of love.
I remember her holding me.
I remember crying in her arms,
Feeling her courage,
Feeling her strength.

She was the resurrection from the darkness
Of what had been taken,
From what I had never had.
Then she died before I was two,
And I lost another world.
I lost my love.
I ached enough to last me sixty years.

Gaining is losing in the instant we gain.
But sometimes we lose before we have gained.
Such loses may be hiding in the darkness of our heart.
Such was the passion I had never spent.
Such was the love I had never given,
Or received.

Then she came.
My woman – and I tried to spend that love on her,
But failed.
My God – the pain,
Trying to climb the cliff face of despair,
Trying to stand up while I was falling down,
Until the words were torn out of my mouth –
‘I am inadequate!’
Inadequate as a man.
Knowing my own inadequacy
I even offered her another man.
And she thought I was trying to hurt her;
That I didn’t want her.

How could I not want my woman?
How could I live with my inadequacy?
Then slowly,
Building the muscle,
Facing the despair,
Turning inside out to become new,
To become me,
And succeeding, in losing again.
For she had gone.

No – she never left me.
But she was gone.
Gone while still next to me in bed, in our home.
Gone when I had surfaced over the cliff
With the gift of myself.
Gained myself and lost her, then lost myself
For more years.
And we were still together!

Better if she were dead.
Then I would have known she was gone.
And that loss ripped me.
It tore pieces out of me.
It burnt, it stabbed, it rotted me inside.
But there was gain.
I learned to meet the dread of my own failure.
I discovered how to exist in the midst of things,
Of pain, of isolation, of my own past.
I learned to stand again.

Only then could I see love, death, birth,
Touching me on all sides.
They dance with me daily, every moment.
The sweetness and torment come each day.
I am loved and I love, to lose love again,
Falling and rising.

Sweet Lord, is this the passion?
To have and lose in the same instant?
To know and feel it every day?
To know that each small event holds every possibility?
Being here all the time,
Here knowing everything,
In every moment!

Tony Crisp

I Had A Dream

Written during years of unemployment.

I had a dream of being
Young in heart and
Hunting for my woman
And with my hands
And effort make a home
And safety.

And in my waking
My heavy heart sees
I have no home,
No place of warmth
To proudly offer.

I had a dream that
I could give myself
Whole and bright
To she – my wife
As she
So gave herself to me.

And in my waking
I am alone,
Or in another’s bed.
I am not whole
Or proud, but wrecked.

I had a dream that
Mountains could
Be climbed and
On a summit we
Could stand
Touching the infinity.

And in my waking
This prison of
Despair is a small
Rock I stumble over
Unable to climb
And out of hope.

I had a dream
In which all
My endeavours
Through the many
Years, led to
A place within
The many hearts
And lives.

And in my waking
No one offers
Me involvement.
No skill I have
Is worthy of a
Wage or recognition.
So what the years?

Tony Crisp

Going

Oh no,
Please don’t go!
Please stay and talk with me.
Look, this is a picture
Of a dog I had.
See, here is a book
I have just read.
If you go I will
Feel things.
Things I don’t understand.
I need you.
Even though being with you
Pulls me along a road of shadows
In a cart of vague dreads.

Tony Crisp

Ghosts of Love

There you were —
Unexpectedly —
Asking me for Love.
You stood at my door
And wanted to come
Into my life.
That was okay.
There were things
I gave you
That you assured me
Were love.
You carried gifts too,
Into my house,
And on each one
You had written Love
In bright colours.
You had even sprinkled
Glittering stars on them.
But when I opened the gifts
They looked to me
Like having been crafted
Out of years of lonely need.
Perhaps that’s what love is
For most of us —
A sort of dependence
On someone else for what we need,
That if unmet
Turns viciously into pain.
But it was the ghosts
Thrusting their faces
In front of yours
If I got near you,
That led me
To feel uncomfortable
In your presence.
They danced around us,
Parading ghostly memories,
Faces of past loves,
Intimations of failure,
Or even the glamorous attractions
Of good times,
Denying the value
Of the present,
Of you.

Tony Crisp

Finding Myself

I found myself wrapped in your love,
As a cloak might wrap me warm,
As hands might hold me close.
And I read your eyes,
Wondering what they might say.
And I touch the soft places of your body
With my fingertips,
Sensing who you are.
Then speaking, you called me –
And I heard the echo too,
In myself, calling you.
Rapt in that cloak,
Touched by your hands,
My body flowed like a stream in its sweetness.
That was my song.

Tony Crisp

Dimensions of Love

Love has the power to touch every part of your life – every part of your being. This poem is woven around this theme.

No matter how brutal or beset with fear, love, if only for fleeting moments, reaches beyond oneself and includes. Your body and mine merge. You and I have extended beyond the narrow boundary of ourselves and dared to want another person, to need, to admit we are not self contained. Clumsy as it may be, lovers want, offer, take, give. Without love, there would only be containment, isolating and isolated . There would be no need to take in what a lover offers, there would be no absorbing and growing from the infinite richness of another being’s difference.

Am I the cell that swims toward my lover’s waiting egg? Am I the egg, wondrous and radiating with life, waiting my lover’s treasure? If I am these, and this is love, then in our embrace, in our passion for each other we burst asunder, and all the million years of compact life we carry is given to each other. We die, to give, and form new life. We leave ourselves behind to reach toward a miracle. Mystery and wonder incarnate and are made real in our commonplace. A child has come.

Am I a baby and mother, bound to each other intensely with potent needs, prompted by fears and passions? Baby or mother, breast or mouth, my yearning sucking squirting love, is still the same old mystery. Still body to body. Still wet and penetrating and absorbing and nourishing. Still full of needs met and shared. Still calling us to break open and admit our need for each other, to feel the longing of another for us – calling me as the mother to give myself, to feel something, somebody beyond myself – to take in who and what they are and know their difference – calling me as baby to know that I will die without YOU – that I will shout with all I am to hold you and suck you into me – that everything I have is yours – and I must grow to see another being than I exists and calls me to relate and take their very soul and body into me that I might grow.

As a youth, love takes hold of me and in its urgency grows courage in me to move beyond my parents and expose my vulnerable self to a stranger. Love teaches me, if I am brave enough, to leave behind all that was safe in home and family. With persistence beyond believing it stretches me toward caring for this stranger, absorbing their behaviour, satisfying their needs, toward becoming more than I was. As difficult, as fraught with pain and anger, as open to pettiness, yet love carries on leading us toward bursting asunder to take in another being and become more.

To make love is to face all that we fear, all that we hold of past pain in us, all that we store as the most ancient secret of ourselves and of life, all that is beyond our little self to know, all the rivers of creation and joy, all dying and rebirth. To be penetrated, to penetrate, to fall through each other into our past, into the place of genesis, the Garden of Eden, the wonder, the sin, the fear, the hope – the transcendence. To hold each other – to look upon each other – to touch – to kiss – to linger in each others arms, open to each other – and this in a world so guarded and suspicious and at war. Can there be anything more wonderful or strange? Can there be any greater promise of a future for us? Can there be anything more physical, more spiritual, more ordinarily beyond?

To fuck, to shag, to have it away with each other, as common as this may seem, has in it the power to transcend beyond anything else in our small lives. Vast differences in age are leapt over by the drive to sex. Skin colour, political differences, religious intolerance, gender opposition, intellectual variation, age, culture, class, distance, time – all melt before sex. Not religion, not philosophy, not police, not war, have done so much to bring people together, to show them how to live and learn from each other, to prove how much they need beyond themselves.

Sexual love, the drive toward parenthood, the drive toward giving body and soul to another being, the drive toward facing more pain, more heartache, more challenge, more dependence, more responsibility than you have ever faced before. Sex, the drive toward the tenderness of holding and nurturing an infant. Sexual love, the energy that fires one to work day in, week long, year after year to provide. Sexual wonder, the teacher that opens eyes to see all natures creatures building homes, feeding their young, striving, giving themselves, dying, to bring life – that links us with others through understanding. Sexual togetherness, that moves beyond parenthood to slowly absorbing you into me until I am enriched and made more. Sex, where you and I are wet with each other, shining eyes, smiles, sharing sweetness and wordless wisdom that runs out into the lives of others.

Tony Crisp

Cupboard Love

My love is like a cupboard,
She is full of wonderful things,
Of memories, laughter and crying
And gentleness that love brings.
She has poems and books within her,
And walks, from her childhood years,
Things that people have told her,
And aloneness of night time fears.

I love to look in that cupboard
To see the things she has there,
Things we have done together,
Things that we can share.
Sometimes she shows me pictures
Of wonderful things she has seen.
Or times, when we are quiet,
In other hearts she has been.

In that cupboard are men and women,
Whose lifetime she has shared,
Or sometimes, carefully hidden,
The stardust she has snared.
There are bluebells that she gathered
As a young, young girl in a wood,
And paintings her feelings canvassed
When on womanhood’s brink she stood.

I wish you could look in this cupboard,
At all of the things I can see.
But you can’t, for you lack her loving,
And that is the magic key.

Tony Crisp

Blood Connections

Together.

From distance.

Moving carefully nearer to touch.

Being apart to being a part, of you, merged, connected.

Melting of the edge, the resistance. For this is the dangerous place, the life exchange. This is the meeting and the merging, the place of blood flow. The open petals, the secret flower revealed. The giving the receiving. The laughter the tears. The enfolding and enfolded. The return of trust. The precious place of renewal.

And so with you I am once more connected. Beyond the moments of merged bodies, of loving wetness, into the subtle joining of nerve endings, of veins, of being. Underneath the common day, where even thoughts are shared. Into the twilight zone of each other’s yesterdays and tomorrows. This is the jungle where we were slain. The cave where we were born. It is the earth where things are buried, perhaps still with life, not merging with the soil. It is the temple of Possibility.

So newly met. So freshly coupled. Then suddenly the tenuous link stretched across miles. From the shadow jungle I hear a child crying. And far away my married life bides with another who called her across the land with attachments formed long past. Is that attachment still alive?

I wait, as I have learned to wait long years, even beyond time. The tenuous link aches. I feel the old scars. Strange how once cut, new blades precisely find the mark. Is this the circle of my life that I must dance again, aching to know I have not been abandoned? Fearing old links are stronger than the new?

A few words are all I need. An assurance I am not left. No call. No assurance. Can old links be so absorbing? The link begins to bleed. Pain troubles sleep. Is something so life giving forgotten so soon? The days become long troubled feelings. No call. What have the movements of the planets got to do with this? How does the rising price of petrol explain it? I have no answer.

The nerve endings rip apart. The veins are torn. The subtle body breached in painful sundering. What life has joined together does not part easily. Life screams that each partner should need each other equally. I hope and I hope and I hope she will hurry home. The evening comes, the house is empty. Old links have been too strong in giving satisfaction.

I cannot help but think that if I visited a lover from my past, it would be cruel to withhold assurance. I wonder why?

Survival is all I know. It is a life lesson. Distance the balm that heals. I must go.

The madness has gone from old wounds. They no longer leave me crouched in the corner unable to eat or sleep. But the skin is thin on those scars. I must learn to stand away from care-less-ness.

Strangely awful that with such love for each other we are such tormentors – I for she, and she for me. This is the dangerous place. Blood connection.

{short description of image}

Tony Crisp

Black Power

Well, slit my drawers,
If it isn’t Henry,
Standing up for me again
Like a gentleman!
Ain’t your wife
Good enough
For you Henry?
Can’t you let your worse
An your best hang out
With her in your bed?
So here I am again
With my legs open
For you to dive in
An cum alive again.
Jesus – what it is
To be the black
Power of Creation!

Birthday Gifts

It was her birthday yesterday,
And I had bought her a gadget
I thought she would enjoy.
Music on one of those
Tiny things you can hold
In the palm of your hand;
Whole orchestras and
Bands of music.
So this morning
As the sun was shining
Into my door
She came and thanked me
Holding me close
And telling me
She had been crying.
So as she was in my arms
I told her I loved her,
And she wept
As I wondered why
Her own father had never
Said those words to her.
And there I was
Holding someone else’s
Daughter close to me
Who had been so hungry
To know she was loved.
And I could feel the
Ease of it,
Knowing neither of us
Would use what we
Had given to each other
As a hook to hold the other.
Neither would we take it
As a lever to manipulate.
Therefore it was whole.

Tony Crisp

You asked me if I am satisfied

When I can see your love reaching to me,
Experiencing it as your desire to be with me,
As you’re happy kisses,
And soft confidences told,
I am satisfied.

Your love is a balm even in my sleep,
Leading me to wake on an ocean of calm,
Feeling complete.

And by love
I mean the mutual eagerness
To share each others presence;
To be with you in simple things
Like buying the groceries
And laughing as we
Choose an ice cream.
I mean the respect we hold
For each other –
The pleasure felt
In walking side by side.

I am satisfied when we share a task
And find harmony of action
In our togetherness.
The empty rooms
That were in my life,
Are filled with soft colour and music.

To know we have some future together
Brings a peace that flows out of me
As warmth and happiness to others.
That too is satisfaction.

Time after time each day
That tide of pleasure rises in me
And I feel whole.
Then, to hold you skin to skin,
To feel the tenderness of lips and tongue,
To enter and be surrounded by your warmth,
Encircled by your arms,
And look into your eyes as we blend –
That is satisfaction.
The joy fills me,
And does not need to spill out of my body.
Yes – I am satisfied my darling woman.

Tony Crisp

Art by Caroline Atkinson

Alone with Love

In my aloneness,
I said to my heart,
“Can I ever find love again?”
And my heart replied,
“Love is not found like a lost purse
Dropped by the wayside with treasure in it.
Neither can you seek it
As you would
A longed for purchase in a store.
Love already exists,
As the kernel of your being.
You do not find love
In someone else,
But in yourself.
If it has been absent,
It is because events
Have led you to close
The windows of your soul,
And forbid its light to shine.
The love you seek,
Is the recognition of the light,
Shining from someone else.”
But the troubled waters of past loves
Led me to seek the wisdom
Of my heart again.
And in my concern,
I asked my heart,
“Love is such an uncertainty.
How shall I know when I have met
Someone with whom
I can find the giving
And the receiving,
Of each other’s needs?”
Quietly my heart replied,
“Where there is love,
Two people grow together,
Without effort.
Where there is no love,
People grow apart.
Only the dependencies
Pushed upon us by our pains,
Our jealousies,
And our poverty,
Hold us in a relationship
Where love has died.”

The All American Girl

She wears a baseball cap,
Tennis shoes and tight tan pants
While she cleans her home.
You know her face,
You’ve seen her in the supermarket.
But originally
She came from Italy,
Or was it France?
Maybe San Salvador?
I saw her face
Painted on a wall
In Pompeii.
I guess she could have
Come from anywhere
To become
The All American Girl.

Once I met her
On a moonlit night
And I saw her face
Against the stars.
She looked so young.
But I had met her
In Pompeii
And Alexandria.
She was a woman then,
And I in love.
But now she wears
A peaked cap
And has a pony tail.
Now she speaks
In ways
The North Americans use.
But I know it’s her
Smiling at me.
I knew it as I saw her
Framed by the stars,
Old as time,
Except that now
She is the All American Girl,
With an amazing butt,
And deep brown eyes.
The same dark eyes!

You must have seen her
In the Coke adverts?
That sparkling smile,
The complete female,
The latest version of woman,
Everything streamlined
And up to date.
But she is as old as time,
And is all women.
I saw her face in Herculaneum.
The All American Girl.

It Ain’t Your Love

Maybe you think you’ve got love.
You think you’ve got love?
Well, let me tell you
That something could happen
That could knock you on the floor.
When you hit the floor,
Your love might shatter
Like a broken glass.
And you thought you had love.
There is a love bigger than that,
Stronger than that.
You got so clever about love
You thought it was yours,
Until you got knocked down.
Then perhaps you begin to see
It wasn’t yours in the first place.
It was simply flowing through you.
You don’t control it.
Love belongs to life.
It comes through you
When you are giving and caring.
But it can get broken
As soon as you believe
You own it or try to hold on to it.
But love never disappears.
Perhaps its stopped coming to you
From a particular person.
But that isn’t a problem.
Sure as hell, if you love life,
Its going to come at you
From someone else,
From a dog,
From a child,
From the clear blue sky.

The Driving Seat

There are two major conditions in life. One is being in charge of your life in a reasonable degree and making your own decisions. The other is being directed by your fears, lack of confidence or other people’s pressure or manipulation. Being in charge and directing your life is being in the driving seat. Being influenced by other people is being a passenger.

Being in the driving seat is a state of mind. It is nothing else. IT IS NOTHING ELSE!

To get into the driving seat many people use props. What I mean is that being in the driving seat means being in a position to observe all the instrument panel. So you are keeping your eye on the game, and watching what is happening with your own body and mind. You are observing all the instruments of yourself. You are watching and acknowledging what is happening to you sexually, what is happening in your fantasies, what is going on in your physical body – am I tired, am I relaxed, am I stressed, am I confident? One is observing all this in the driving seat and that allows you to make necessary changes. From the observations you can slightly shift, change, make adjustments, and so keep balance and direct the process of interaction with the ‘road’ ahead and other ‘road users’.

In the driving seat you have the microphone in your hand. You can communicate. You can communicate from a position of observation. i.e. I am feeling sexually stimulated by you – I am not feeling sexually stimulated by you – I want this of you – I do not want that of you – I appreciate that from you – I do not like what you are doing. This position of observation can be communicated to another person or persons. But some people avoid this direct acknowledgement that they are either in the driving seat or a passenger. See Self Observation

Being in that relationship with yourself is as wonderful as driving a high performance car, a plane or a rocket into space. Every tiny shift of thought, of motivation or doubt redirects where the vehicle – you – are going. So it is very important to clarify your feelings and state of body and mind.

A friend of mine recently told me about a woman noticing what her children needed, as if it were a strange or different thing. In the driving seat of course you observe what the child needs because you are observing your own needs, and you are open to communication. Therefore you can see if a child is feeling anxious or pleasured. It is straightforward.

The possible reason you may not observe what is being communicated to you by others, either verbally or non verbally, is because you are shutting down on wanting to observe what you are feeling yourself. You may not want to see or feel what is happening in your own life, and this leaads to not being aware of cues and responses in others.

Something else that causes avoidance of taking charge of ones life – being in the driving seat – is that sometimes we tend to adopt particular roles in order to deal with situations. It means we take on ready made behavioural responses instead of observing what is happening in any given situation. Taking on ready made roles also help us reduce our own need to monitor and acknowledge our behaviour and responses. Stereotyped responses that come with the role take the place of personal interaction. The role might be authoritarian, submissive, victim, attacker, intelligent, dim – but whatever it is, the need to respond personally in each moment is relieved.

There are not many people who communicate directly with you in this way, or who are willing to.

And don’t forget – not only are you directing your life, but you are often carrying your passengers – your children and dependents.

Useful questions are:

If I am in the driving seat of my life what are the attitudes and feelings that are directing me?

Where is it I am actually taking my life?

If I am not in the seat, what are the skills or failings that are influencing my direction?

See Martial Art of the Mind – Questions – Avoid Being Victims – Summing Up

Sorg – The God – Walks Among Us

I had a vision

I had a vision. I saw that Gods walk the earth. It’s happening now but we can’t see it. We fail to recognise who the gods are and how they pull at our life and draw us into something we are blind to.

The shades came off my eyes so I could see. I didn’t want to see. I pushed down the fear in my guts and pulled my soul round to face the direction we’re all moving in – I saw the future. I want to tell you what I saw, because it’s a hell of a thing to walk into alone.
Okay, so here’s what I saw

I saw that everything is alive. Things that we often don’t see as alive are as much a part of nature in its snarl for survival as a wolf protecting its cubs. There are creatures moving about the earth we don’t even notice as such, because they’re too big. It’s a bit like an ant crawling over our leg. We might be too big to recognise as something other than the landscape. And if we go up a notch and the ant is crawling on an elephant, how can it ever see the body it’s on? I stretched my soul so it was big enough to see these things crawling about and using people for their body.

You don’t believe me? Look, just see if you can follow me to a place where you can get a glimpse of these things. To do this I need to have you think about some pretty obvious things that you might not have put together to see where they lead. So I want to remind you of them and tell you to look along the line to see what’s at the end. Okay?

Your body for instance – if you took a few skin cells off it you couldn’t look at them and say they are your body. They come from your body but they’re not IT. Like lots of things in nature some amazing action brings all the millions of cells together in a working combination that is your body. The skin cells couldn’t get hold of a can opener and take the lid of a can. But if they’re still connected to all the other cells and working together there’s no problem in getting that lid off.

Life is powerful in a physical sense when it brings together lots of units and directs them to work toward some end. Everything from a bacteria to a huge whale works on this principle of cells grouping together. It’s how nature works. Life is good at it and has a tendency to push toward uniting things to create what are really huge organisms. One of the ways the life processes do this is like the army ants or bees. Although they are all separate individuals, they are all working toward the same end. Each little individual devotes its life to the working of the group, like cells in our body. When that doesn’t happen we call it an illness, cancer for example.

Bear with me on this. I went up like a ride in a helicopter hanging high over a city. From up there I could SEE it all. But I can’t do that for you, so I’ve got to describe the view as best I can.
The big ‘un

Okay, so you’ve got the idea of how life gets power by organising things. And remember as we look at the next thing that if you could get really small enough all the cells in your body would have spaces between them. They would not look as solid as you are used to seeing them. Right, so now look at a political party, it doesn’t matter which one, Republican, Democrat, Communist, Labour. If you stand way back far enough you can see a party is a huge organism made up of millions of cells working toward a goal.

And boy, if you stand in the way of one of these giant organisms, you’re going to get trod on worse than standing in the way of an elephant – believe me. They are huge, and they’re powerful and like the army ants, they spread over a big territory. Sometimes they fight, and that’s hell, because people are the cells that get injured, because it’s people who make up the body of these mammoths. They feed on people, they build their body out of people, they shit people. If you don’t believe me look for yourself.

Political parties, religious groups, giant companies, pressure groups, are all super organisms. That’s okay. It’s an everyday fact of life. But perhaps you hadn’t seen it before, and maybe it wasn’t your real choice to get eaten. Remember the promise of Christianity – to become a part of the body of Christ. Maybe that’s what you want. And each of these giant bodies offers advantages to individual existence. But they also want you to pay a price. Are you ready for that? Christ wants your soul, and so do some of the others. But a lot of them simply want your body and your conformity or passive accpetance.

Don’t forget, all of these are LIVING CREATURES. As such they defend themselves against attack like any other living body – like your body for instance. Every day you mutilate thousands of bacteria in the defence of your own existence. You don’t even notice it. The same with the super organisms. They fight anything opposing them, so don’t stand in the way!

If you’re still with me let’s climb up the hill a bit more. What we’ve looked at is old stuff. It’s been happening ever since life got going. Cells grouped together, and animals learned to herd in groups for extra power. From up the hill a bit we can see something new though. Old techniques but a new creature. And don’t forget when we look at this new monster baby, that nature has a tendency to ‘organise’ itself. Also, see if you can get out of the habit of seeing jungles and seas as realms of nature where biological life wrestles and thrives, but still believe that human cites and homes are something separate from this. If you can glimpse the super organisms in politics, then you can see that Wall Street and the City of London are just as much a part of ‘nature’ as any wilderness. Life doesn’t stop working at organising things just because we build a road and erect buildings with electric lights in. Wall street is a jungle just as much as the Congo.
Super Organisms

Just your existence as a modern person in today’s world, even if you are not in a body of one of the super organisms, makes you a part of a huge social order which is itself a super organism. Could you, like the old Red Indian, or the Australian Aborigine, live without the car, the refrigerator, the electricity, the factories making your clothes, the farming complexes growing your food and butchering it if you eat meat. Could you build your house? And if you could, without someone making gasoline for you, how would you prepare your timber, make your bricks and roof tiles? I don’t dispose of my faeces, medicate my sickness, build my house, make my car, sing the songs heard on the media; I don’t bury or cremate my dead, I don’t give birth alone or with my kin. Unlike the aborigine or the Inuit I can’t go walkabouts in the wild without vast resources backing me up. I am not self sufficient. Even attempts at self sufficiency within Western society are usually deeply dependent upon the system they are supposed to be independent of. The incredible magic we take for granted arises out of the huge creativity arising from co-operation within the massive organism you were born into, and the body of which you are a cell.

Like the cells in your own body, you – if you are a contributor and not someone who sits on your arse with your hand out – only work at a small area of what is created and done in our society. Like a muscle cell you might only lift and pull all day while other cells carry nerve impulses or gather and process food. The Aborigines and Indians weren’t specialists in the way modern humans are specialists. You and I are no longer self sufficient. We were born within this super organism, and we have a symbiotic relationship with it. The super organism is like our body, which existed before the present skin cells were born, and will live when they die. The super organism of which you are a cell in its body, pre-existed you, and will carry on living when you die. It has an existence of its own. It’s a living creature in its own right. Just as the cells are almost totally dependent on the magical factor that keeps them all working as a co-operating unity. Likewise, we are also dependent on the MAGIC of co-operation.

So we exist within something that is itself a huge living being. Just a little bit further up the hill and we can see what this giant creature is developing into, and how within it gods are walking the earth. I saw that this being is incredibly old. Human beings have felt its power at times, yet not really seen its form, or worshipped it as God.

After all, our whole life exists within it, and it’s our creator and supplier of needs. But I can’t grasp all of it.

Humans have always extended their powers in some way. When Spanish conquerors appeared in South America riding horses, the native people thought they weren’t human, that they were gods. The native people hadn’t previously seen this connection between man and beast. The Spanish had extended their ability to move across terrain by riding horses, a common practice in the Old World. This ability to extend ourselves is ancient, as with stone axes, bows, spears, boats, and later guns, cars, planes, and so on ad infinitum.

This drive to extend ourselves, and our life within the super organism of human society, is the womb and tits giving birth to and suckling a new type of human person and society.

Remember as we now come into view of the future, that when a significant extension of an individual within human society occurred in the past, it radically changed how human beings experienced themselves, and human society. For instance the horse and boat extended the range of food gathering, conquest, trade, and exchange of information. The printing press amplified one individuals ability to communicate enormously. It enabled groups to promulgate ideas. The radio amplified the human voice so it could be heard simultaneously by millions. The television has projected the human image so that one person can be known across the world.

It’s not those things in themselves I focused my attention on. It’s where they are leading to and what the super organism is doing with them.
The magic powers

Take someone like the US president. If we place him or her in a desert alone like an old aborigine, without any modern equipment, he or she might soon die. If they had lived within an Aboriginal community they might have become an elder within the tribe. But because of the super-organism in which they were raised and live, they have a much greater connection with enormous numbers of people.

In fact, the present president is a totally different being because the super organism in which they exist has developed enormous technological aids in extending itself. Compared with the Aborigine group, the president has god like powers to extend their influence. If the president landed in ancient Mexico in his private jet they would hail him as a god. The president can appear to millions of people at the same moment and speak to them; he or she can travel to any part of the world; their thoughts and words have great influence; their decisions are augmented not only by her/himself, but also by a huge network of other human beings all over the world. His image, his words, his deeds are all recorded and will exist as an influence long after he or she is dead physically.

When the president is in the society or organism of his birth, but also when he is ‘plugged in’ or connected to the controls of the super organism of his political party, he IS a god being. His ideas are known and implemented. He is the centre of a flow of money and opportunity. He is a media figure, a politician, an entertainer. He is locked into an enormous body which flexes at his command and touches people and events all over the world.

The person we know as the president is not just a normal human being. If he were, most of us would never have ‘met’ him. He is a technological and social phenomena. He is a human being who has been enhanced and extended enormously to god-like proportions. If he were uncoupled from these enhancements he would revert to aboriginal existence. So would we all, because in lesser degree we all share these enhancements.

Can you begin to see it? We are all enmeshed in a vast living process that is no longer just biological. It’s now bio-mechanic-chemico-electronic. Our ecology is a vast biological, mechanic, chemical and electronic process.

Don’t pull back. Keep your eyes on the creature and watch it. It IS NOT UNNATURAL. It isn’t a spawn of the devil. It is nature at work creating something new on our planet.

The fact is, there is nothing super-natural in the world, nothing outside of reality. The present environment into which human beings are interwoven, is as natural as the manufactured wax combs of a bee colony, or the paper colony of a wasp, or the giant and complex structures manufactured by termites. Just as the wax is part and parcel of the cycle of life and death of a bee, so the electronic and chemical environment of human beings is integral to us at the moment.

Now here is where we can see what future is emerging out of the present direction.

There are obviously forces of construction, creativity and co-operation in nature, and there are obvious forces of destruction, disintegration and death. When something does not succeed or grow it is overtaken by forces of ruin. This is true of cells, plants, animals, as well as humans and social groupings. The super organisms mentioned are not outside the most fundamental forces of nature, which are creative and destructive.

When I was up there at helicopter height looking back at human life, I saw an influence pressing us into ever greater and more complex unity. But this new level is making us as people part of a world-wide web of integrated social and electronic connections. The new super organism has built electronic circuitry into its body. It’s bursting the boundaries of its old domain and becoming international. This jump to a vastly greater size is enabled by the technology it incorporates. So if we take people as the cells in the body of this huge super-organism, they constitute the living soft tissue, but the nervous system are being formed of the computer driven information and the information and control highways emerging at the moment.

And if we’re not blind, we will recognise that the equipment we have created is part of our greater body now. The scary bit is that the huge organism we are incorporated into is more than we are ourselves, just as the body is greater than the cell.
The great SORG

Just as the cell is driven in some of its activity by what the personality desires and does, so we’ve got to realise we will be driven by urges arising in us that are not from out of our own isolated mind – because our mind is not isolated. Overall our direction arises in large measure from the drives being pushed by this new world wide super organism – SORG. Can anybody tell me which single person is driving the huge change to the technological rewiring of our whole planet? What one nation? What individuals are responsible? Who’s planning all this? Think about it.

Maybe what I saw is a distorted viewpoint. I don’t know. But it’s worth wondering if Sorg, the Big One we are cells in the body of, is ordering a huge overhaul, a refit with new wiring and electronic controls.

In our body the Whole communicates with the Part – and vice versa – through various processes, including brain, nervous system, hormones and glandular products. The Whole of Sorg communicates with the Part in the form of other human beings, or directly as urges arising from within oneself.

Particularly it communicates through the influence of leader figures and recorded information, music and films, through the various forms of media communication. In this century the spread of media communication has brought about more world integration and dissemination of life style imagery and life direction views than at any previous time.

From my birds eye view, my mind opened like a fertile flower. I could see that Sorg is pushing for an advance in the technology and dissemination of media outlets. I particularly saw that the television screen will quickly become bigger and bigger, because this is the main thrust of communication between leading figures and the mass of cells within Sorg.

Sorg is developing so fast my vision couldn’t keep up with where it is heading, but some things were clear. There is Sorg, and there are the super augmented – Saugmen and Saugwomen – people with special functions within what Sorg is driving toward. Then there are the general means of communication via TV, the internet, and the world of entertainment in general. The aim as far as my vision stretched, is a world-wide super-organism, integrated by media and communication highways, and directed by magnificently augmented human beings who will be a mixture of athletes, entertainers, politicians and financiers.

The interaction of these different facets formed the vision of the future I experienced.

At the moment Sorg is still waking up. It’s just beginning to gain the foundations of a form of consciousness we have not seen on this planet before. When it does wake up it will grip and direct human life in a way we can’t even suspect at the moment. The only possible way we can avoid the massive manipulation of the Sorg and the Saugmen and Saugwomen, is to attain a new level of awareness ourselves. One which recognises and matches the forces of Sorg.

The laws of the jungle still apply here. The most daring, sexual, reproductive, intelligent of the species will grasp the leading roles in this emerging drama. The rewards will be that standing in this enormous and augmented energy flow will bring tremendous influence and possibilities of reproduction and financial reward. The Saugmen and Saugwomen will be god-like in the power and influence they wield, standing next to Sorg itself. They will be super athletes of a new order. They will be the stars of a form of Olympics that is just beginning to emerge. An Olympics that joins finance and political power with sexual attraction and intellectual fitness expressed in a media format already showing its beginnings in world wide television coverage.

I believe the planet is re-forming itself, creating a bio-electronic life form that will change the face of the earth. New gods will arise within humanity, and they will be the voices of change, led by the driving forces of Sorg. The female force and vigour will be one of the most powerful tools used by the waking Sorg. Feeling the power of female sexuality in its new and augmented form, some leading women will become the expression of nature sucking back from the human race what has been ripped out of their mother – the Earth. What a bitch she will be! People have tried to control nature. The waking giant will grab people by their most basic drives and greeds and build them into its own body. The stars of the show, the elect of God, will be those who can ride the wave of media expression money and sex. The losers will be the wankers who have nothing to give and have never given it anyway!

See The Singularity! – and Vernor Vinge on the Singularit

Next >

< Previous

Tony Crisp

Author Archive

In Every Moment

I Had A Dream

Going

Ghosts of Love

Finding Myself

Dimensions of Love

Love has the power to touch every part of your life – every part of your being. This poem is woven around this theme.

Cupboard Love

Blood Connections

Black Power

Birthday Gifts

You asked me if I am satisfied

Alone with Love

The All American Girl

It Ain’t Your Love

The Driving Seat

Sorg – The God – Walks Among Us

About Dreamhawk

Dream Dictionary

Features & Articles

My Books

Donations

Disclosure