Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Kipling (excerpt #1)

The Birth of Venus by Adolphe William Bouguereau

For Truth is a naked lady,
And if by accident she is drawn up;
From the bottom of the sea.
It behoves a gentleman,
Either to give her a print petticoat,
Or to turn his face to the wall,
And vow he did not see.

Aphrodite by Konstantin Makovski Geburt

Who Am I?

Picture © Chattering Magpie

My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I,
Reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvellous rebellion of man at all signs,
Reading "Keep Off."
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive,
In the universe.

Carl Sandburg

Picture © Chattering Magpie

The Truth by Betty Ashe

Picture © Chattering Magpie

This is the truth
I have betrayed you
This is the truth
I have lied to you
This is the truth
I feel no remorse
This is the truth
I will do it again


Is this the truth?
It meant nothing!
Is this the truth?
Please believe me
Is this the truth?
I am truly sorry
Is this the truth?
It won't happen again


The truth is this
I was a bit bored
The truth is this
Just a bit of fun
The truth is this
I got caught out
The truth is this
I'm only human

Picture © Chattering Magpie


Picture © Chattering Magpie

As gold the Lydian touch-stone tries,
So man the virtuous, valiant, wise.
Must to all powerful Truth submit,
His virtue, valour, and his wit.


Sunday, 24 May 2015

A poem by Sheikh Muzaffer (excerpt #2)

Picture copyright the Chattering Magpie

Love is a special pleasurable pain.
Whoever has this in the heart will know the secret.
They will see that everything is Truth,
And that everything leads to Truth.

There is nothing but Truth.
In the realisation of that;
They will be overcome.
They will sink into the sea of truth.

Picture copyright the Chattering Magpie

A poem by Rumi (excerpt #1

Picture the Chattering Magpie © 2009

Those who don’t feel this love,
Pulling them like a river,
Those who don’t drink dawn,
Like a cup of spring water,
Or take in sunset like supper,
Those who don’t want to change,
Let them sleep.

This love is beyond the study of theology,
That old trickery and hypocrisy,
If you want to improve your mind that way,
Sleep on.

I’ve given up on my brain,
I’ve torn the cloth to shreds,
And thrown it away.

If you’re not completely naked,
Wrap your beautiful robe of words,
About you and sleep.

Picture copyright the Chattering Magpie © 2014

A poem by Sheikh Muzaffer (excerpt #1)

Love makes us speak, love makes us moan,
Love makes us die, love brings us to life,
Love makes us drunk and bewildered,
It sometimes makes one a king.

Love and the lover have no rigid doctrine.
Whichever direction the lover takes,
He turns towards his beloved.
Wherever he may be, he is with his beloved.

Wherever he goes, he goes with his beloved.
He cannot do anything,
He cannot survive even for one moment,
Without his beloved.

He constantly recalls his beloved,
As his beloved remembers him.
Lover and beloved, remember and remembered,
Are ever in each other’s company, always together.

The Tarjuman al-Ashwaq by Ibn al-Arabi

'My heart has become capable of every form,
It is a pasture for gazelles and a convent for Christian monks,
And a temple for idols and the pilgrim's Ka‘ba,
And the tables of the Tora and the book of the Koran.
I follow the religion of Love: whatever way Love's camels take,
That is my religion and my faith.'

The Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, by Ibn al-Arabi.
Trans: Reynold A. Nicholson (1911).

A Sufi Message of Liberty by Hazrat Inyat Khan

'So many castes and so many creeds,
So many faiths and so many beliefs,
All have arisen from the ignorance of man,
Wise is he who only truth conceives.'


Members of the 1734 and initiated Wiccans (the Wica) in the London area are voicing concern, which is becoming increasingly public, with regard the links below, representing the alleged activities of a group known as the Order of the Horse and Moon, who claim to practise Cochranian Wicca.

The Wica/Wiccans are concerned because the group does not have a recognised and official lineage. This is a polite way of saying that the lineage is non-existent.

1734 (the Wilson Stream) and CTC (The Cochrane Tradition) and also Traditions inspired by the works of Robert Cochrane (which remain quite distinct from Cochrane's actual Tradition), equally voice concern as the prefix 'Cochranian' is a modern appellation, used in order to suggest certain preferred aspects of praxis that are wholly at odds with those of Wicca. Therefore, the usage is incorrect and to be blunt, rubbish.

It is to quote the words of another, an oxymoron. Even allowing for a degree of cross pollination during the last half century and dual initiation, the streams of Cochrane and Gardner remain totally separate; their distinctly unique ethos, secures absolute diversity, one from the other.

It is not possible be a Cochranian Wiccan and unlikely that a network of Cochranian Wiccan covens should exist, outside of the imagination. Perusal of the websites show there to be very little mention of Cochrane or Wilson, the content is predominately pop-wicca (lower case c). It appears that the use of various names such as those mentioned, is a marketing ploy to ensnare and confuse the gullible.

The above statement is made with the full knowledge of and the content has been approved by, members of the CTC and 1734. Readers are advised to be vigilant.





When spring unfolds the beechen-leaf and sap is in the bough,
When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow,
When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain air,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!

When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade,
When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid,
When sun and shower upon the earth with fragrance fill the air,
I'll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair!

When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold
Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold,
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!

When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown;
When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town;
When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West,
I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!

When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay;
When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day;
When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain
I'll look for thee, and call to thee; I'll come to thee again!

When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last;
When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past;
I'll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again:
Together we will take the road beneath the bitter rain!

Together we will take the road that leads into the West,
And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.



Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be.

And whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

© Max Ehrmann 1927


Whatever Else You Do
Whatever else you do or forbear,
Impose upon yourself the task of happiness;
And now and then abandon yourself
To the joy of laughter.

And however much you condemn
The evil in the world, remember that the
World is not all evil; that somewhere
Children are at play, as you yourself in the
Old days; that women still find joy
In the stalwart hearts of men;

And that men, treading with restless feet
Their many paths, may yet find refuge
From the storms of the world in the cheerful
House of love.


Dear One, when you are
gone, by day and night
I search, but find no peace
in anything.

The trees, the moon, the sun
no pleasure bring,
As when we two,
star-gazing, took to flight
To land upon some inner
mountain height.

What joy above the sordid
world to sing
With you who are to me
eternal spring!
I see it now that you
are gone from sight.

But you will come again,
and oh, what joy --
Your cheery voice describing
many a land,
The things men build and
ages long destroy,
We, sitting close together,
hand in hand,
Playing as children with
some new-bought toy,
It will be wonderful --
you understand.

Sappho: Excerpts from Hymn to Aphrodite

Part I Chapter I

Shimmering throned immortal Aphrodite,
Daughter of Zeus, Enchantress, I implore thee,
Spare me, O queen, this agony and anguish,
Crush not my spirit.

Whenever before thou has hearkened to me,
To my voice calling to thee in the distance,
And heeding, thou hast come,
Leaving thy father's Golden dominions,

Come then, I pray, grant me surcease from sorrow,
Drive away care, I beseech thee, O Goddess,
Fulfil for me what I yearn to accomplish,
Be thou my ally.

Part I Chapter II

Peer of the gods, the happiest man I seem,
Sitting before thee, rapt at thy sight,
Hearing thy soft laughter and they voice most gentle,
Speaking so sweetly.

Then in my bosom my heart wildly flutters,
And when on thee I gaze never so little,
Bereft am I of all power of utterance,
My tongue is useless.

There rushes at once through my flesh tingling fire,
My eyes are deprived of all power of vision,
My ears hear nothing by sounds of winds roaring,
And all is blackness.

Down courses in streams the sweat of emotion,
A dread trembling o'erwhelms me,
Paler than I, than dried grass in autumn
And in my madness, dead I seem almost.

Part I Chapter III

A troop of horse, the serried ranks of marchers,
A noble fleet.
Some think these of all on earth, most beautiful.
For me, naught else regarding is my beloved.

To understand this is for all most simple,
For thus gazing much on mortal perfection,
And knowing already what life could give her,
Him chose fair Helen,

So must we learn, in a world made as this one,
Man can never attain his greatest desire,
But must pray; for what good fortune Fate holdeth,
Never unmindful.