At-one-ment (4 20Eighteen)

En the year of the Heretic*
En the year of Ganga’s Descent
En the year of the Wolf-Skin

At-one-ment beckons

Keep still!

Keep still
And you are bound 2 feel
(At the base of your spine
Where Sri Ganesh lies content)
Her sharp, pitch-black claws

Keep Still!

Keep still
And you are bound 2 hear
(From the Kingdom of God within)
Her impassionate cry
Her sound unstruck

En the year of the Grazing Whyte Buffalo
En the year of the New Bloodfat Moon
En the year of the Gateman’s Sable Chapeau

Take heed
And do not tarry

Cords of silver
Wings of gold

Need not be wary
Need not carry
The weight of worlds that arrive b’fore them

Do as u were told!

Do what is best 4 your garten
Do what is best 4 your soul

Rid your throat of obstructions
Rid your raiment of desecrations
Rid your boot heels of holes

[Our Lady Of Loreto Aside.]
Stop leaking! Stop leaking faith!
Stop leaking what has been gratuitously bestowed!
Stop leaking light! Stop leaking grace!

And sing that refrain which is closest 2 your heart,

There is only Brahman
There is only The Transcendent

There is only Becoming
There is only The Absolute

There is only Consciousness
There is only The Highest Good

There is only
The Divine

* Not what the proponents of scarcity want you to think;
Therefore, put away your dogma
And break your chains at their weakest link.

© The Herder 20Eighteen


A Herder’s Wish 4 20Seventeen

The tiniest girl w/
The tiniest freckles and
The tiniest palms en
The tiniest garten embraces
The tiniest flower

Whose petals emit the Light of
A billion shores w/en
A billion worlds w/en

A billion stars w/en
A billion galaxies
.   .   .   or more

© The Herder 20Seventeen


Soma from the Well: Sri Aurobindo

It is not sufficient to worship Krishna, Christ or Buddha without, if there is not the revealing and the formation of the Buddha, the Christ or Krishna in ourselves.

Sri Aurobindo / Gems from Sri Aurobindo



Lines of division, ignorance, and hate
Olde lines, crooked lines (long thought dead and buried)

Festering lines drawn anew w/ fresh ink
Lines 4 which despots clandestinely issue a call most venal

A call

2 strike at the soul of Edin
2 strike at the heart of the People

[The Folk Aside.]

The way we feel
The way we love

The way we connect
The way we think


It is a call 2 open psychic and social wounds (once thought closed)
It is a call 2 drink from a poisonous cup (once thought well disposed)

It is a call 4 the philistine
And cowardly 2 take aim

Regardless of torment
Regardless of shame

It is a call 2 despair
It is a call 2 war

War b’tween the Sexes
War b’tween the Races
War b’tween the Creeds

War b’tween the Angels en Heav’n
War b’tween the Lyons and the Jackals en a sea of reeds

War / bound 2 devour the famished
War / bound 2 engulf the blind en darkness
War / bound 2 bleed the well

War / bound 2 lay upon the eyes of Helios
The o’ercast stitch of a deathly pall

War / bound 2 ruin ev’rything we hold sacred
War / bound 2 be the ruin of us all

© The Herder 2016

New Atlantis / Darkness

New Atlantis

En this Age of Degeneration
En this Age of Iron

New Atlantis burns
And its citizenry is under siege
By vandals who have sworn 2 their liege,

Stables and ramparts
Of stained glass and carbon steel shall fall!

New Atlantis burns
And its barrister kings,

Content w/ excessive posturing
Content w/ feeding souls 2 their respective Machines

Content w/ nitely, red carpet flings
Content w/ political correctness and political bombast,

The talk-show rounds (from Ellen 2 Fallon)
So as 2 speak upon a million more meaningless things

And pose handsomely 4 portraits on the Capital steps
While the core of New Atlantis nears ruin
And the clamor of a folk, uncertain of the future, grows frantic

A folk burdened w/ contraction (imposed from w/ out)
A folk burdened w/ social anxieties
A folk burdened w/ economic woe

A folk
Whose true identities and rebellious spirits
Are fetter’d,
Caged by the worst who rule
                 the worst who worship at the iron hem
Of Scarcity’s life-negating dogma

A folk under siege
A folk whose whyte picket dreams
Are deemed decadent by a heartless villain en Arabian green

{Two-Beat Pause}

A folk under siege
Because they are queer

A folk under siege
Because they dare 2 show u their tits

A folk under siege
Because they are the sons and daughters of David
                             the sons and daughters of a brash
Warrior and king

A folk under siege
Because they venerate The Sutra of the Lotus Flower of the Wonderful Law

A folk under siege
Because they are wholly free of this notion of a personal God

A folk under siege
Because they choose 2 love
Ev’ry grain of sand below and
Ev’ry cloud above

A folk under siege
Because they choose 2 step ento the Jordan
And take The Good Shepherd’s hand

New Atlantis, ruled by the worst, burns
So the clamor of a folk is not heard
(As the vandals loot the square and salt the land)

Alas! The worst who rule ask u
2 put away yur Bibles
2 put away yur guns
2 be more tolerant; and 4get
What Grandma toldja
About what’s right and what’s wrong

It is quite an invitation
It is quite an opening
(4 the advent of darkness)


May the Pillars of Creation be merciful!
This, we cry 2 no avail
When a churning tide of ink arrives at our Palace doors

And the darkness it bears seizes the opportunity
2 disquiet our faith, poison our innermost being,
And assault our senses w/ true horror

Again and again, the darkness finds us
When our third eye is closed and
           our talisman is down

Again and again, the darkness finds us
Where we are weakest, slowest 2 respond
Where we are most vulnerable and open
2 the wielding of clubs and casting of stones

Again and again, the darkness finds us
When we forsake
All that is beautiful
All that is generous
All that is strong
All that is kind and eager 2 4give

En favor of Māra’s fetching daughters
En favor of DEATH

En favor of machines and machinations
En favor of one last disparaging breath

B’fore the peach tree is revealed
And the charge of LOVE is rightfully fulfilled

Again and again, the darkness finds us and
Again and again, we cry 2 no avail

© The Herder 2016

Paris Thirteen

Corruption has found its way
Ento the Black Stone

Much innocent blood has been spilt

As Western leaders deliberate
And their countrymen tilt

A city of lights
Is a city under siege

The Palace of Peace
Is a palace out of reach

Make no mistake,
The armies of Darkness and
The armies of Light are at war

Welcome, nonbelievers,
2 the Breach

©  LogosVox 2015

What If? (Pts 3 & 4 of 4)


But what if . . .

What if we fell 2 our knees (at the mouth a dry river bed)
With beads thru our fingers thread
And songs, prayers, and mantras en our throats?

What if we did not waver?
What if we stood firm and chose sovereignty over fear?

What if WE waged war against the chicken hawks and scarcity mongers?
What if we, beneath the weight of their life-negating dogma,
Chose 2 bend and not break

What if we loved our neighbors 2 a fault?
What if we found gold where it is never sought?

What if we washed away the blood?
What if we lifted the stain (from our ledgers)?
What if we worked tirelessly 2 keep our hands clean?

What if . . .

What if we refused 2 be their bond servants?
What if we refused 2 keep their powder dry?
What if we refused 2 pilot their planes?

What if we shouldered the pillars of Compassion and Love?
What if we shouldered the excellence of Mount Meru
With a greater knowledge of who and what we are?

What if we dreamt of a diamond cipher,
Put ink 2 rice paper, and reaped a golden age
En seven strokes of the quill?

What if we marshalled our reason, passion, and will
And drew water (from the mouth of a dry river bed)?
What if we crowned Love, master and king?


Let them come
Let them slip unseen from the City of the Dead

Their long knives will march
And their wagging tongues will lie

Let them come
Let them slip unseen from the darkness

We will meet them at the mouth of a powerful river

W/ butter and bread
And heated wine

Let them come
Let them slip unseen ento our open arms

We will see to their wounds
We will comb and braid their hair

We will not cower from forgiveness
We will not lie en wait for rareified aire

We will meet them at the gates of a new and prosperous city

We will meet them en the most uncommon Light
And our hearts will take flight

We will meet them
And be their Sisters

We will meet them
And be their Brothers

We will meet them
And be their Fathers

We will meet them
And be their Mothers

© LogosVox 2014