Candle Battle in the Haunted Mountain Teahouse

I dreamt of a Japanese-style teahouse built of wood and stone jutting out from the side of a darkly enchanted mountain. A harmless old woman lived there, the Keeper of the Keys. I and two friends were greeted by her in the tea parlor where we were served fresh-brewed strengthening potions in ceremonial cups, to

The Logician’s Prayer

This little ditty was written for three magical, enlivening, frankly beautiful and soulful philosophy classes I was privileged to be a young student in. Every day I absolutely loved coming to these classes, because they were instructed by Professor Bill Graves at City College of San Francisco in the months around the date on which

Reporting Live from Earth

  Reporting live from Earth: people were nice to each other today. A tattooed guy helped an old lady across the street, and she smiled. A soldier adopted a kitten who purred when the man nuzzled and kissed it. Kids played in Mexico City, lovers had sex, and a woman in Africa gathered plants in

All Is Not Lost

Sifting through stuff, I found just now a note written by my grandfather, Robert E. Valett. (His squiggly wizard handwriting is unmistakable.)   “The Golden Treasury of Poetry. Laughing Song, with bumblebee. Remember ‘The Blind Man and the Elephant’. What is an elephant? [Insert unintelligible squiggles here]. –Thick skinned hoofed animal. Elephant, rhinoceros, pig. Check

Wolf Boy and the Sacred Tattoo Girl

I’ve been keeping a dream journal for almost a year now. Usually my dreams consist of totally boring things, like flying and doing exorcisms and turning into animals. There’s also aerodynamic weightless martial arts and bopping around the cosmos and the usual nightly grind like that, but every now and then I get a really

The Way Out

A dream. In Hell there is a lonely tree transplanted from Heaven, and in this tree there is a way out. I am brought here to sit out on a branch of this grand holy tree and pray with songs. After rescuing souls, we go to visit a woman in a wheelchair. She thanks us

The Potter’s Wheel

Power be to the poet, and to the child without voice, and to the wrongly accused. Power be to those who cry out in word or in silence, who knead bread from the flour of unrest, who do so sweetly. Power be to the brave girl and to the lost boy – they are crowned

An Exercise in Snakes

A dream. Part of the exercise, said Alexia, is this: a room full of snakes of many sizes, many huge and different colors. We are to lay among them, but see that they will not hurt us. “But you don’t have to lay among them if you don’t want to,” she said. “Lay with your

The Wood-Bird

I dream of a wood-bird who is living, both animal and plant is its body. It is like an ostrich, but has wood and leaves for feathers. There is also a cinnamon bird, often mistaken for a guinea pig, as people want to subject the magical to their experiments. And there was a giant pelican,

Fata Morgana Mountains

I dreamt I was looking out over an ocean, to the west I was looking, and the ocean stretched into infinity, but something lay between. There were the jutting outcrops of small mountains to my right and left, framing the eye’s sight as one sees when looking out from a bay. Not very far there

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