Soma from the Well: C.G. Jung

All steps forward in the improvement of the human psyche have been paid for by blood. Meanwhile [today] everybody teaches everybody, and nobody seems to realize the necessity that the way to improvement begins right in himself. It is almost too simple a truth. Everybody is on the lookout for organizations and techniques, where one can follow the other and where things can be done safely in company.

C.G. Jung / Jung & Hesse 



N.B.  Verily, one must enter the dark wood at its darkest point;
And one must enter alone.

– Valentino Santi


Declaration and Demands

[Seated At A Cherrywood Desk En His Uncle’s Tuscan Villa,
The Divine Messenger Puts His Bamboo Quill 2 A Blank Sepia Page.

En A Writing Vox, Born Of Love And Courage, He Authors A Declaration
And Then A Litany Of Demands On The Present World And Its Amoral Pantheon.]

WE choose 2 not defile our spirits with your political bodies
WE choose 2 not be the building stones of an economic bastille
That will enevitably call upon us 2 smith shackles 4 our brothers
And then ourselves

WE choose 2 not do this
WE choose 2 not lie, cheat, and steal
WE choose 2 not have our spirits brought 2 heal

WE choose 2 not fear our neighbor
2 not envy his happiness
2 not covet his dame

WE choose 2 not walk blindly
2 not be blind

WE choose 2 not shed another precious drop of blood
4 the brutes en suits
And striped silk ties

WE choose 2 not covet the purse of our countrymen
WE choose 2 not hoard the pantry’s Ghee
When WE know there are Paupers and Pros who need it most

WE choose 2 not demonise
WE choose 2 not hate
WE choose 2 not be the willing (or unwilling) host
Of an ill-conceived and misanthropic fate

WE choose

This here!
This here!

{Two-Beat Pause}

WE choose Beauty o’er Fashion
WE choose Resolve o’er Blame

WE choose Thalia o’er Scarcity
WE choose Bliss o’er Fame


WE, the Seekers and Sowers of The Aesthetics Underground,
Demand a great healing 4 a world terribly sick

A world w/out oil (4 the lantern’s wick)
A world w/out flow

A world w/out light
A world w/out soul

{One-Beat Pause}

A world w/out poise
A world w/out rarefied aire
(4 the Righteous 2 breathe)

A world w/out maidens,
Tall, blonde, and irresistibly fair
(Much too fair 4 Love’s Rogue 2 leave)


WE demand Prometheus be unbound
WE demand Atlas be given wings
WE demand Medusa be adored (4 the divinity she is)

WE demand the right of our Heav’nly Grandmother’s apron pouch
2 house a bevy of otherworldly things:

Golden Apples,
Figs and Almonds and Pomegranate Seeds!

WE demand a new Garten 4 Adonis
And a new grazing Skye 4 Apollo’s fiery steeds

WE demand that Mercy like Misery
Be given the freedom 2 walk stride 4 stride

From dusk ‘til morn
From tide 2 tide

{Two-Beat Pause}

WE demand that ev’ry Prince and Princess born
Be granted the means 2 re-di-rect their personal lot

WE demand an arrow thru ev’ry heart
And a shakti 4 ev’ry maverick, en the thicket, caught


WE, the Seekers and Sowers of The Aesthetics Underground,
Demand a great healing 4 a world terribly sick

Sick of Sorrow
Sick of Ignorance

Sick of Tyranny
Sick of Pain

Sick of Division

Sick, sick, sick
. . . at heart

© The Herder 20Seventeen

The Dawn

A crack en the veneer,
We so carefully crafted,
Reveals a wasteland once hidden
Behind the ramparts of our vanity’s shame

A wasteland where
We are neither kind
Nor generous 2 ourselves

A wasteland where
Brutes dig en their heels and
Shadows dwell

And the only Hell
Is the Hell we make!

{Two-Beat Pause}

A wasteland where
We suffer needlessly

A wasteland where
Anguish sets in

A wasteland where
The kindling of Ananda is discarded, then
Hastily thrown ento the bin

A wasteland where
We await a new sword en stone and
                a new round table w/
Glorious Knights of Faith prepared
To travel the Dark Wood alone

And atone,
For us all,

The loss of the Dawn

[The White Wood’s Beckoning Aside.]

Dawn –
The fall of Grace
Upon errant shoulders

That liminal state –
The very moment b’fore daye breaks
The very moment b’fore a purple skye is gorgeously fill’d
W/ a billion billion rays of light


A crack!
And a battalion of Seraphim descend

A crack!
And a siege of Demons rise

A crack!
And The Gatekeeper,
Pine cone staff en hand,
Opens his big brown eyes

© The Herder 20Seventeen

Love (20Seventeen)

From ev’rything u read
And ev’rything u see

It is easy 4 one 2 reason
That Love is absent
That Love is on the run
From Anger, Pride, and Fear

That Love has abandoned us (2 a dire Fate, a loveless State)
And her daughters, Mercy and Grace, are not here

But lo, a jug tips
           a pantry door opens
And Love, barely draped, skips
(Thru a garten of planets and stars)

A chain of flowers
Above her hips

The scent of lilac
Behind her ears

And across her lips

© The Herder 20Seventeen


En the aftermath,
Ashes remain

Alongside numbness
And the lack of will 2 do what is right, decent, and just

As does a forge of queries
When the beast rears its head

Are we too far gone 4 Mercy 2 find us?
Are we too far gone 4 Grace 2 guide us?

Are we too far gone 4 Love 2 take root   .   .   .

En this desert of ours?
En this garten of ours?
En the width of this chest of ours?

© The Herder 20Seventeen

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



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