bull feasts, and the road to the Whisky a Go Go

I was going to write a post somehow commemorating and commenting upon the sign of Taurus, before the Sun left it (which it has done now), pulling in the start of Summer in a Venusian sign, and the festival of Beltane which happened on May eve with its coupling and amorous and fertile themes, and thinking about some rather red goddesses. But I just stop.

I have to walk on, and realize that I can’t go back.

The divine couple, and the sacred marriage, it’s in another room, a book that was closed some time ago, and placed back on someone else’s shelf. The message that’s coming through, it’s not that.

As a middle aged gay man not only is that not my story, but the fact that it could never be my story is, well, old. Another story, yes. A different marriage (and a different kind of sacred), for sure. The message that’s coming through comes with its own blessings, brimming with interest, love and home coming.

But the male and the female, the “balance”, the anima and animus of a hundred Carl bloody Gustav Jung quotes, even the proffered “androgyn”, oh please no. Because that isn’t needed, unless that’s what you want. It’s not true. Which isn’t to say that it isn’t someone else’s poetry, but soft dogma is still dogma. Guzzle it down with a chaser of Robert Graves, it doesn’t change a thing. Bet me a Great Mother, I’ll raise you a Devil, but really it’s all ok, all good, if that’s what calls to you, your life, among the myriad multitude of lives, all shining equally, equally, lawless, shining bright.

The ball of yarn, that short tall tale, wound tight, it unravels all the way, to a place where all rejoice in the spirit and the soft, hard, yielding, smooth, furry flesh. The as it is, and in your dreams, your heart.

Then I was delivered from that consideration by news of Ray Manzarek’s passing on, the thought of his floppy dark blonde hair and so intelligent eyes,  of leather clad Jim transfixed at the microphone, with the throb and circling of the organ pulse in the dark, a sober, wonderful underpinning to that magical sound. Opening up a road to a distant time, where there was a road, opened up ……….

“is everybody in?”

Travel well Ray, and thank you so much.

Miss you.

By Polfoto/Jan Persson (Den Store Danske – The Doors) [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons



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