I WON’T PLAY YOUR GAME ANYMORE – with lyrics

I WON’T PLAY YOUR GAME ANYMORE – with lyrics

i

I won’t play
Won’t play your game anymore
Knocking on the bankers door
Trying to find my face on the floor
Where your teller wrote my name

It must be
A financial fallacy
That nothing grows from trees
That you’ll ever get what you need
At the five and ten

(bridge)  It’s not you
It’s not your name
It’s not the truth
It’s just a game
Frightened people play

I won’t play
Can’t take your phony disguise
What you hide underneath those eyes
Can you say?

A fire is burning at the break of day
Everything will pass away
Your silk suit
And your pictures from the holidays

I won’t play
I’ve seen it all before
That hungry dog you keep behind your door
Not gonna feed it anymore
There’s just no way

I won’t play
Going to the further shore
Far from the smoldering war
Those restless shadows on the floor
They’ll have to pay

(Instru)

I won’t play
Won’t play your game anymore
Knocking on the bankers door
Trying to find my face on the floor
Where your teller wrote my name

It must be a financial fallacy
That nothing grows from trees
That you’ll ever get what you need
At the five and ten

It’s no you
It’s not your name
It’s not the truth
It’s just a game
Hungry people play.





(C)1990-2017 by W.G. Milne and John
      Rock Corporation.  All rights reserved.



If this song doesn’t play here, play it on the WILLIAM MILNE CHANNEL
on You Tube.
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ABOUT WILLIAM G. MILNE

ROVING REPORTER RANTS

MYSTERIES INVESTIGATED, REPORTS ON THE WEIRD AND THE STRANGE,THE SAVAGE AND INANE; STAYING IN THE ZONE,TENNIS, POLITICS, LAW; THE SCHOOL FOR MYSTICS – TOWARDS THE GREAT LIBERATION (FOUNDATION EXPERIENCE), OVERCOMING REPRESSIONS OF ALL KINDS – STORIES FROM THE FEMALE ORGASM CLINIC: REALIZATION, MINDSHOCKS, CROP AND CANE CURES FOR GUILT AND SHAME; HUMOUR WHENEVER POSSIBLE…TO PENETRATE THE THIN MEMBRANE INTO THE EXISTENCE OF A DEEPER AND MORE AMAZING REALITY AND REPORT BACK TO YOU.

My Photo
NAME:
As years go by, there are more and more things I find not to do. Silence is  essential, and loud music from time to time.
Born in North Bay, Ontario, I grew up in Jamaica, West Indies, in the Parish of St. Ann. Now back up north,  spend time in hut  on cliff top, paddling a light canoe, when available

I’m going to do some singing on stage again, name – John Rock and the Angels  put out a CD called, “It;s So Serious!” Have to re-master. Now doing CD “Wild Kingdom – A Johnny Rock Retrospective” (double disc)I’m learning how to digitize hundreds of live performance tapes.

My primary concern at the moment is
including videos for my, “Songs That Cook” feature. And sprucing up recordings from my stage performances, so I can list musicians playing on each track, some of whom have died or gone crazy. Working with various John Rock bands can be mad fun and stressful.
Hell, life is stressful. Being an animal in the forest is stressful. Singing and playing rhythms on stage with a group of talented people, that’s a joy. When the music becomes one with the audience, that’s an even greater joy – that’s damn close to heaven on earth.
I’m working with over ten diffferent manuscripts – parts of some of them are on amazon.com/kindle and ebooks. These books tend to be serials with chapters being added as I write them.
I write erotic and fetish literature as Walker Ballantine (none published so far but coming soon)…Wait! “Stories From The Female Orgasm Clinic” is a Tumblr blog.
I write spiritual and realization (foundation experience) tracts – some are published on amazon.com
under the title, “Most Ancient Gospel Found Anew, The Second Coming of Christ;
I think some people think I’m a freak because I
have had experiences that convinced me that the One Who Is Creating Us is conscious.
I write “WAIT-A-BIT! Tales of Isolation and Panic. Moonshine Sketches of a Pickled Town” These are stories about the north that I find funny.
There’s nothing funnier than seeing a man
kicking something in the throes of a tantrum… or the moment he realizes he’s screwed because he’s landed in the middle of the wilderness -nowhere –
and he can’t get out and he’s hearing tales of animal attacks.
And I write plenty more, for example, my
Blogger blogs. One of my favourites is “The Whip and the Cross” which speaks of the split between the spirit and the flesh in the human psyche.
O.K. Now I’m starting to bore myself
and I’m probably boring you also. So for now,
enough is enough!

Check out my blog at zappadat.blogspot. com,
” Roving Reporter Rants”

Nag Hammadi Gospels, Books, amazon.com/author/williammilne. Humor when possible,School for Mystics, curing psycho-sexual repressions, discussing political oppressions, law, tennis psychologist, liberation and hangover cures.
“I hope my angel will not come a fiend, as fiends so often rise in love affairs.”   William Shakepeare

also  Walker Ballantine’s Facebook Timeline, jjwilliejohn at twitter.com.
“The definition of madness is loss of a sense of humour.” Hunter S. Thompson

MOUNTED BY THE GODDESS, HE JOINED THE DANCE

MOUNTED BY THE GODDESS HE JOINS THE DANCE

           




           It is said in Tibet that Padma Sambava, the great patron saint (Bodhisattva) of that country, he did not throw the animistic spirits out, but rather he converted them to Buddhism
so that they could act as temple guardians.
          And so they have (had) ceremonies in Tibet where a monk would be “mounted” by such a spirit. One observer said: “When the monk is taken over by the animistic spirit, it seems that even the shape of the monk’s skull is changed.”
         This is akin to some of the things that happen in voodoo ceremonies when the priest is ‘mounted’ by the god.

          This is akin to moments in the celebration of love when the perhaps unwitting priestess is mounted by the Goddess Aphrodite. I have see this happen.
          All I can say is that this is a transporting experience beyond the possibility of verbal description. A golden light suffuses the face of the woman.
          I remember saying to such a woman once, I said that I loved her, but not to worry because I could control love. And then the full face of the goddess emerged and smiled at me.
          She said:

          “AH, BILLY, BILLY, NO ONE CAN                 CONTROL LOVE.”

And was she ever right about that!



I am certain it is important that we as ‘modern man’ understand that such events do occur. That such gods and goddesses and spirits do inhabit the earth and possess us from time to time.

As a mystic, it was essential that I understood this. You can’t get very far in becoming One with the Universe and the spirit of the conscious Earth without encountering such entities and divine presences.
          We are just learning about the power of the human mind, through the study of quantum physics and through mystic studies.
           I choose to live in a mysterious universe.

When you sit in a Place of Power and meditate –FOCUS on entering the stream of life within you: when you look within and see that your own psyche is part of a much larger merging and flux… That other spirits and the consciousnesses of various saints and Bodhisattvas will visit you – those of the past and those who live in the present ( such high Conscious spirits do not die for long) you see that you are part of a great family of minds and Mind, all under the Lord of Hosts, God of Israel and Albion, Lord of the peoples of the red earth, Lord of the Meeting Rivers, the One Who is Creating Us, and who embraces the family of man in a brilliant and translucent
shining of chaste forgiveness…  O I praise thee, Lord of Hosts. I praise the magnificence of your name.

           When these realities start passing through you, to say you are changed is an understatement. In Truth you are a different Identity when the great Liberation, foundation experience, has been attained and given to you
through the mercy of the One Who Is.

           None of this can be explained with words.
But the pathway is there, and I am not one to deny it.


           May you be blessed and strengthened in your searching. May you learn to laugh and join the dance.



(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

APHRODITE PASSING

Aphrodite passing

 

Unsteady as you go today

As my love in Naples Bay

My ship throws these lines away

On this very journey:

 
As today you walk the stairs
I’m breathless but not out of breath
You step so free without a care
And I follow step by step
 
I’m gleeful now and you laugh
And share this light a certain time
As our life goes dancing past
In rhythm and in rhyme
 
Yes, this is undying still
Golden moments are not blue
Drinking dancing cups are filled
Only this may honour you.
 
 
 
 
 
(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

From seeing Aphrodite on an ancient vase,

and seeing her arise in a woman in my life.

HUMOUR AND ORGASM

ORGASM AND LAUGHTER
________________________________________________________________________________________

      i woke up this morning, “The blues was on my mind”
Sounds like the beginning of a song… No, woke up and
walked to the mirror first thing. Two blood red eyes –
big ones – were staring back at me.
     I`m reading some papers on my desk… about
heaven and hell…Screw heaven and hell, that`s what
I say.

      I got a call at 3:00AM from the ORGASM CLINIC
to the south of me. The chief psychologist (the only one
with a sense of humour) was discussing moving
out east, doing some psychological work
on an army base.
      Some of the young men returning from
Afghanistan needed help. And that`s fair enough
 – you see a child get blown to bits before breakfast, it`s going to mess with you deeply.
       For now they need distraction…. after they`ve
been in this country for over a year, then they
need psychological assistance.
     
       What`s the best distraction, the best way
of relieving trauma and tension? (Other than
lovemaking, of course)
       Laughter is the best medicine, whatever
the situation, that`s my opinion. Of course
there are situations in which it`s impossible
to laugh… but let`s forget them for now. 
       
        There are also scores of hard-working,
earnest women in this country, who cannot quite
reach orgasm – due to a fucked-up
religious upbringing… with all those
hidden messages…
         “You can`t do this… God will never forgive you;
you can`t do that, you`ll be stepping into
the devil`s lair” Hogwash and bullshit! But if
we have these hidden, unspoken messages 
deep down inside… they can be terrible inhibitors.
         These messages we absorb from early
childhood never have to face a critical
arbiter … They have crept  into your system
before you could think, before you ever
wanted to think.
         So now you have these unseen messages
in your system which inform your actions…
and you don`t even know about them…
A religious voice from your grandma could 
be saying, “You can`t relax now… not when
you`re naked. People want to USE  you!
So tighten up, tense up and be on your guard!”
          And these messages will not be overcome
unless the stimulus is strong.  That`s why
I advocate the use of vibrators in stubborn cases,
and pneumatic drills if necessary!
          Whatever it takes! There must be
a coup within… The unseen moralistic
voices must be overthrown in your inner kingdom.
          It`s often not easy….In a thirty-five
year old woman, the inner regime has had
lots of time to build up its defences – 30 years
of re-enforcing the walls… You`ll never reach
orgasm with normal sex… maybe later, yes,
but now what you need, dear lady, is an
irresistible invading force that will break
down any resisting scruples you have…
when you`re “doing the dirty deed”, “acting
like a dog in the street”
 dealing with the urges that come from
“Down There!”
           Perhaps this is why most women
have secret rape fantasies that they tell no
one about… because they need that restrictive
moralistic citadel within to be overthrown.
           Often it takes more than one person
working together in the `invading force`
in order to breach the walls.

          All those sayings parents come up with
when they`re trying to tell you how special
you are: “A person of your quality need never cry.”
That`s a dandy one.
          Parents are not trying to twist and screw
up your love life beyond all recognition. No,
parents for the most part are trying to protect
you. And you knew that and your trusted them and
you believe everything they say….
        No critical arbiter  need be passed. These
parental sayings in early childhood never have to
“clear customs, so to speak”.  They never pass
through a rational assessment… And deep
down inside. they might be your dearest beliefs.
         There are many kinds of tragedy, and being
blown up by a bomb is just one of them, living
in a psychological trap is a kind of death
also.
          For this reason the psychologist should stay
here, deal with the stricken you have around
you. Forget about going East.

          Of course, I`m biased. Also, the clinic
needs the help. We need every 
psychologically-trained brain and every sense
of humour we can find.

          Laughter’s just the tiniest bit like
orgasm, isn’t it?
           

(C)2015 by W.G. Milne                

ON AN EVENING SUCH AS THIS

ON AN EVENING SUCH AS THIS —poem from a spiral notebook

Awakening at 3 A.M.
Hear voices  from the street
             people pass
Two ladies in an alley disagree
They fight – screams and shrieks
Guttural grunts, stabs and jabs
Gouge away with broken glass

A man is silent
Leans against the understanding brick

And lets them;
He doesn’t judge or bless
But let’s them pass
Down into the street
And Ford drugs

He will not guess
Seas of traffic pass
And the tides of the addict
Chemicals, heroin and flesh
The man of many ways
On the wine dark street
With Belladonna beckoning

And from a side street
The alleyways in back
He comes to consciousness
By the back door, where
The strippers smoke and certain
Purchases are made

The TV is on above the bar
And the glazed eyes on the patrons…
Outside a party girl
Engages and plays with men
Decks a policeman with her knee
And a roundhouse kick to the head
Leaves him on the pavement
And enters a restaurant


Outside a party girl
Engages and plays with men
She taunts and teases
And in this alley down the street
Gives men a sense of possibilities

On an evening such as this
We might launch a ship
Beyond the land’s grasp
Explore the light of the Pleiades.





(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

GOOD STORY OPENINGS

          She lay back on the bed and slowly spread her legs. I tell her to roll over and put 3 pillows under her belly, so her ass is the highest part of her body.

             “Don’t you like missionary sex?” she asks.

                    “No, I prefer you naked on your hands and knees, baying like a hound.”

 

This is the beginning of a story that keeps my interest.

***********

Or to take a page out of Mickey Spillaine’s book:

        He was lying in a pool of blood, dead as hell.

         sHE was naked, kneeling in the corner, giggling.

I walked over and looked down at her closely.She was licking something red and sticky off her hands.

***

        Mother died today.                         Camus