THE DEFINITION OF A POET………………………………………………FACING THE VIRGIN PAGE………..
Editor 666 has arrived. This bush pilot knows where the poet lives. His cabin is
hard to forget, as it is the only free standing structure in several hundred square miles.
Wait-A-Bit is about 200 miles away,
but there are no free standing structures
in Wait-A-Bit – except Matilda`s double caravan
with dug-out room below… Her former friend drove a smaller trailer into a larger one, pushed insulation between the two walls, doubled up with the screening, cut a hole in the floor to accomodate the foxhole – and voila – the perfect Artic dwelling.. with steel walls…
reinforced with angle iron…
My first wife she used to try
to piss me off – clever bitch! I loved her – still do. She figured the only way she could get me to tell the truth was when I was angry. Otherwise… I lied.
“True enough,” Astrid insists: “Normally
you`re a sneaky, duplicitous bastard!” So she`d try to annoy me “Truth is best before breakfast,” she`d say…. See? That`s pretty annoying.
Today EDITOR 666 meets the THE MAD TRAPPED POET OF RAT RIVER.
I can relate to EDITOR666 because you must get ugly with
yourself, with your sentences – with everything in your
I love the street and I love street talk. I love country
talk. I love being in the country. I love to have a cold beer
sitting on a stump.
I LOVE THE `ECONOMY OF PHRASE` SLANG
ENABLES US TO USE!
But do not be deceived. I spent four fucking years
at the University learning how to use this language.
And I`ve spent another ten years learning how
to use street-slang…. I didn`t know that`s what I was doing
at the time – I had joined crack culture, “country of the Now”
But to write well and tell the truth I almost
have to “get my dander up”… this is a phrase the old
folks used….. Get up to face the Virgin Page.
I`m getting older now – a ripe middle age. And I`m
not as patient as I used to be – in fact I`m turning
into a real monster. I don`t let people visit me.
Most people don`t want to, anyway. And that`s just
fine.Works out well.
You see I have to GET IT UP every morning (and
for once I`m not talking about sex). And you know, that
old prick Hemingway (he`s already had more than enough
attention) – but he was right about a lot of things… I like
him best when he talked about writing.
I used to think he was always a bit pretentious about the
boxing matches, the bullfights etc. But I don`t think that way
Boxing to me is just a metaphor for the fight to face
the page, and derive some truth, squeeze some juice out
of the psyche.
Every morning it`s like climbing a mountain…to mix
I`ve climbed plenty of mountains and, if you`re determined,
the one thing you cannot do is stop
Editor 666 – picks a lame line out of a half-assed poem
and sticks it up on the blackboard.
“SOME WEIRD BEAK AT BEAT IMPLORING”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! What the fuck do you mean by that???
Mad Trap Poet: If I could see the text, I could discuss it.
Ed: You don`t need the text, fruitcake… I`ll put the text
in big letters up above TO EMBARRASS YOU!
MAD POET OF RAT RIVER: He produces a 14 inch
butcher knife which looks more like a Roman short sword
than a knife….He waves the blade in the light from
the Coleman Lamp, so Ed666 can see its razor sharp edge.
“Call me `fruitcake` one more time and I`ll cut your head
off. Right here, right now. I`LL EDIT YOU!
EDITOR666: Ah, you don`t have the balls to cut anybody`s head off. Not you, you`re a “literary type.”
PO: What are you—- you`re a LITTLE editor. (He lisps
as he says this)
EDITOR666: All my life, I`ve worked like a man. You don`t
have the strength to cut off my head — see these .. neck muscles? They`re too tough for you…. You
do not know how hard it is…head cutting.
PO: Oh, but I do. I know exactly how hard it is…. I`ve
done it before AND I LIKE IT….It`s not hard;
it`s easy…. the prick was trying to kill me and
it cheered me right the fuck up lifting his
surly head into the air – by the hair… Hard, nah.
Easy. I liked I felt like a better man after it was
done….. All the women in the club cheered and
and begged to suck my dong…. Did I let them?
What do you think?
(THIS IS CALLED A PISSING CONTEST… AND YES, IT DOES HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH EDITING…)
Editor666: No way.. I scan the news for mental oddities
elements of the insane… I`d have seen the
news report…. Did you do it in secret, pansy,
in your own secret closet?
PO: No it was in the news for days….almost 2
years back… Remember a story about…..a head being
chopped off in a public…WHAT ARE YOU, A COP? I`m not not telling you any details….
EDITOR666: “I`m no cop! Your mayor hired me to give you
a hand with your narrative poems and free free
verse…. I hear you`re good but you need help
PO: What mayor? There`s no town….if you hadn`t noticed…. We`re on Great Bear Lake, asshole!
The only town within 500 miles is PORT RADIUM…
and it`s been a ghost town for twenty years.
That`s what they tell me.
ED6: You never bothered to go.?
PO: Where you from?
ED6: Toronto, New York City, London.
PO: You drop in to Rochester often? You bother to
ED: Never have, nope.
PO: Well, at least there`s fuckin people in in Rochester.
Port Radium, there no one. And it glows in the dark!
And It`s about the same distance…
ED666: What do you mean, same distance. It`s just
across the lake. I saw it on the map…
RAT: A map? You saw a map did ya? Ha! Ha! Ha!
Yeah, just across the Lake, a paddle of
about 400 miles…
ED666: You`re not kidding are you? No, God help me!
What`s so funny about a map?
PO: No one`s seen a map up here for years…
The map`s not really the problem… even WITH
a map, we don`t know exactly where we are.
We`d better have a drink and Il try and
explain things for you…
Editor666: That first pilot dropped me off
right in the middle of a huge parking lot…
Mad Poet: You mean Wait-A-Bit!
Editor: __________?No. It was just utter
devastation. Not even a blade of grass. It was
a huge stone crusher had passed through just
Poet: So you didn`t see the mayor.
Ed: I didn`t see anybody. Wait, there was this one
crazy asshole who seemed to be sweeping
the place up… He was wearing this hat like I`ve
never seen before, and I have been to New
Guinea… And they come up with some pretty
wild-assed combinations over there… But
nothing like this fool! There he was looking
among the stones… With all these screens
hanging over his face…..!
Mad-trap: That was the mayor.
Ed666: Oh, no! You`re mistaken. This guy looks like
the moron janitor no one hired, working in this great
latrine under the sky, scrubbing at the rocky
coast of nowhere!
Mad Poet ( writes it down)
“The moron janitor no one hired,
Working in this great latrine under the sky,
Scrubbing at the rocky coast of nowhere “
MADPO: ” Sweeping under the open sky”…not bad!…. Maybe you`re a poet,also
Editor666: “I WAS a poet… It`s just that my character
is not quite aberrant enough; my temper,
though it is extreme, is not sufficiently
loathsome; and my genitals, though larger and much more
weighty than average, are not quite huge. And though
I enjoy beating innocent animals and persons smaller than I am, whipping them into apologetic and begging submission – I am not quite the sadist that I ought to be… to be worthy the name,”POET”.
Though I am deceitful and enjoy lying,
especially to trusting souls: I find duplicity is not the air
Though I do try to be an cold emotion-manipulating
beast, I am not quite up to par: I do not have that icy grasp
to squeeze each drop of soul out of each person in a situation;
No I am not quite cold enough to deserve the title,POET.
Mad poet: “WHAT? did you just say? Are you mocking me? Did you just insult me??` You`re drunk, aren`t you…?
You`d better be!”
Editor 666: “Oh, no! Drunk? Never! Alcohol gives me the
great clarity. The more alcohol I consume, the
more intelligent I seem to be…
I do not know entirely how the
Cosmos works, but the more I drink, the less
intelligent other people grow to be, other
people in the room with me, the dumber they become….
quite likeable folks turn out to be fools and
morons – the alcohol gives me the power
to discern their retardation easily…
MadPo Man, you`re hammered! Look, it`s
OK to talk to me this way…for a moment…But if you start spouting off this way in Wait-A-Bit….
someone`ll put a bullet thru your brain… and laugh about it… It won`t take very long, either!
Edito666: WAIT-A-BIT does not exist!
MadPo: Ha! Ha! That`d be a good start. They`re sensitive
over there about their town stature
MadPo: That, too! It was melted down in seconds!
EDITOR666: “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING, MAN?”
Mad Po: I had sex with his wife. He found out.. Broke into my house… I woke up he had a knife in his teeth and
his hands in my pants….
Ed666: So you cut his head off…. and then you ate his
Mad Po: Quite right. I felt I had to … to prove
the ability that he was trying to remove
I caught him and I ate his brain.
I felt like a real success that day!
Ed666: They found you covered in blood
a man`s brain in your mouth….
Mad Po: Yes.
Editor: You did all that and got away! You`re a sick
prick aren`t you? Brains, guts, mental illness and
a gory past – you have exactly the traits I hope
to find in a poet… Yes, you are mad -but that can
be a good thing for similes, images and symbols.
Mad Poet: So you`ll work with me?
Editor 666: Yes, I will. You`ve got all the qualities.
Poet: In honour of our deal, I will present you with
this! The Poet from Rat River
holds up the huge knife…
Editot 666: I was hoping for something else”, he
whispers in the poet`s ear.
Mad Poet: That? You want “that?”
The editor nods his head, “Yes”
Poet: Poet nods his head. “That can be arranged.”
They shake on it.
EDITOR 666 – DEFINITION OF A POET: Intelligence of an eccentric kind, passion with a BENT twist —a different way of thinking and seeing the world,
necessarily strange associations. A mean, assaultive character prone to grandiose thoughts. Alcoholics are often best – alcoholics who yearn for
childhood before the age of 5 (Like- Dylan Thomas.) A puerile intellect that makes manipulation
of children and naive under-confident women a simple matter.
A capable individual, a person who devises a plan and can then carry the plan out – no matter how outrageous, violent and sordid the plan may be. A person with massive manic interludes…. an attractive, handsome sociopath (who can really screw the ladies over).
MADPO: “What?” WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY….??? Let me read that! I`VE NEVER HEARD SUCH A STRING OF INSULTS, degenerate thinking in one place
EDITOR 666: Ho! Ho! You know I speak the truth!
PO: You`re going to pay for that little joke!
Editor 666: Who`s joking?
Both men are loaded now. The overproof has found
a major place in them both.
Running down towards the river. Mad Trapper Poet
of Rat River asks: “Do you think I`m poet material? Do you think I can make the grade?
EDITOR 666 “A person of your experience, proclivities and background, you will shine!”
I was recording my song: “IT’S SO SERIOUS!” In a 24 Track Recording Studio just north of Toronto. I’d had invited about 20 jazz musicians including the 5 of us in JOHNNY ROCK AND THE THE MAINSTREET BAND
There were 20 or so musicians drinking strong rum in the manager’s office. I had hired a woman producer who was more of a ballbuster than I had expected. Half the band was black and they don’t like getting ordered around by this white gal. I realized they were plotting to kidnap her and put her in the trunk of someone’s car.
I took over her chair right away, but that didn’t help much. They all could see her through the soundproof glass. They knew where she was…
I was getting worried about her safety. So I took all my clothes of and started singing this next song in my underwear —- I was aiming for some comic effect… when I started barking like a dog, baying like a hound – this got plenty of laughs…
I wanted to bring a pit bull into the studio and have him howl under the microphone, but the manager nixed this idea. The mike cost about 10 Gs and he thought the dog might eat the mike…
So I had to take over. That’s when I wrote this song.
“IT’S SO SERIOUS!”
And I’m glad I did.
(C)1980-2018 by W.G. Milne All rights reserved.
The Critical Edition of Q
A Synopsis including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German and French Translations of Q and Thomas
Pages: CVII-561 p.
Price: 70 EURO
The Critical Edition of Q: Synopsis including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German, and French Translations of Q and Thomas, edited by James M. Robinson, Paul Hoffmann and John S. Kloppenborg, culminates almost twenty years of teamwork by the International Q Project, which includes more than 40 scholars from North America and Europe. The outcome of this massive undertaking is an 8-column synopsis on facing pages, which presents the critical text of Q itself in column four, flanked by the Matthean and Lukan texts from which it has been reconstructed, and then, in the other columns, Matthean and Lukan doublets, and parallels from Mark, Thomas, John and the LXX. With all these materials laid out in parallel lines, the study of the Q sayings is greatly facilitated. Toward the bottom of each page the resultant Q text is presented in non-formatted and hence more readable form in Greek, English, German and French. A history of Q Research opens the volume, and a Greek Concordance of the critical text of Q closes the volume. Thus the Critical Edition of Q serves as the standard tool for all Q research of the future.
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
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,
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 attack to it.
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.
There are many pathways to One Place. It is simple.
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 earliest Christians were called Gnostics mostly in an attempt to dismiss the Christ’s emphasis on “knowing”. “Know yourself and you shall see me.” “HE WHO DR…Source: A TOUCH OF TRUTH, A TASTE OF THE OCEAN
June 9, 2016
A TOUCH OF TRUTH, A TASTE OF THE OCEAN
The earliest Christians were called Gnostics mostly in an attempt to dismiss
the Christ’s emphasis on “knowing”. “Know yourself and you shall see me.””HE WHO DRINKS THE WATERS FLOWING FROM MY MOUTH
SHALL BE AS I AM
AND I SHALL BE HE
AND THE HIDDEN THINGS SHALL BE REVEALED TO HIM”
GOSPEL OF THOMAS
This message is very simple. It describes a mirror-like confrontation between
master and student. And the master is urging the student-seeker to question the nature of his identity and being.
Again I ask you for your strength, for I have no
strength of my own, only the strength that you have
have given me
O holy one of Israel and Albion, thank you for your
grace, thank you for your gifts, thank you for the truth
that you have given us. O Father, you who ride the clouds
and pierce the clouds with the brightest light of
illumination, I greet you again.
I ask you to fill us with your light, as
you have done before and fill this room again
with you Grace.
O Lord of the Meeting Rivers, Lord on high,
you have given us love of the Mother and the
Earth, our mother; you are aware that our
adoration of the Mother is the love of
you, the most high. Help me teach your
mysterious message to your children
You are the Lord of the Indus plains,
the red earth; you are Father of the islands
and Lord of the sea. You are the incandescent
light at the core of me; you are the mystic
star of all the tribes.
Thank you for your gifts, thank you for
your Grace: thank you for the strength
you give to all of us.
You pervade all things and teach me
my own intelligence. Help me teach
the difference between reality and the
lies that have been told.
You are God of the mountains,
the shepherd of the valleys. Little
children are born knowing you.
Trailing clouds of glory do they
I ask you to bless this wine,
O Lord Jesus Christ, soul of my soul,
heart of my heart, One day I
had my communion bathed in you.
And what had been my mind
dissolved in your eternal Knowing.
I have never been the same.
When you want to sell something,
you make it very special. So the rulers,
organizers of the monopoly, made you so very special,
so miraculous and exceptional, that
no man could be like you.
All we could do is worship you from
afar for being so utterly above us.
was not your purpose, your purpose
was to dissolve into the seeker and
have the seeker dissolve into you, until
there were not two identities
but one only.
This is the meaning of communion,
it is the meaning of the Eucharist,
“FOR GOD IS A DYER. AS THE GOOD
DYES, WHICH ARE CALLED TRUE, DISSOLVE
WITH THE THINGS DYED IN THEM, SO IS
IT WITH THOSE WHO GOD HAS DYED.
SINCE HIS DYES ARE IMMORTAL,THEY BECOME
IMMORTAL, BY MEANS OF HIS COLOURS.”
On earth, in darkness and ignorance,
you see things but you
do not become like them. You see the sun,
you do not become the sun.
But in this place, the place of realization,
the place of redemption, “it is not possible
to see anything of the things that actually
exist, without being like them. “You saw the
spirit, you became the spirit; you saw Christ,
you become Christ. You saw the father,
you shall become the father. In this place,
you see everything and do not see yourself.”
“But in that place you do see yourself – and
what you see you shall become.”
For example, in that place (oblivion)
you see something or someone
you desire, you become that desire”.
This is the gospel of the one who
is searched for, and the seeker,
once enlightened, can no longer
The one who is searched for
was revealed to those who are
made complete, perfect through
the mercies of the Father, the
hidden mystery, Jesus the Christ
enlightened those who were in darkness,
the darkness and the fog of oblivion.
He gave light to their darkness;
he cured their blindness: he enlightened
them; he showed them a way, and the
way is the truth which he taught them,
the fruit of the tree which was Christ ,
the tree of the lineage of the Lord.
“AND HE DISCOVERED THEM IN HIMSELF,
AND THEY DISCOVERED HIM IN THEMSELVES.”
This is why the Bridal Chamber contains a
mirror. For the seeker reflects the one
who is sought, and the one who is sought
reflects the seeker. And a merciful God
is the reflection of the man.
There the man is baptized with water. light
and fire, in order that the Chrism may take
place. For no impure woman or man may enter
the Bridal Chamber, for there the marriage
takes place between the Lord God and the man
who has pursued the truth until he has
disappeared into the sanctuary, made chaste
by the Son.
There is no describing these things, but a
road map can be made – with signposts
along the way, so that the seeker may
not be lost completely.
I was lost in the early days, and when
realization occurred I had no idea what
had happened. I had no idea which way to
turn. I had to go to a zen temple, where
the monks knew of such things. In fact
realization was the aim of all their
in the early days , then as now.
(C) 1990-2018 by W.G. Milne
A SHORT CURIOUS POEM WHICH IS FAR FROM PLAIN
I live in an
and as I peer
through the blinds
I see a red car,
the blue ass rolling
of a woman in jeans;
hear the roar of
yellow – a Caterpillar
I peer through
hoping to see
a dance, a sign
echoes of a
as the sky turns
then midnight blue
watching to see
what the day is
watching to see
and passers that pass
catch a glimpse
(C)2018 by W.G. Milne