I am

I am here

In the places of your depravity

In the wanky, shitty, crooked cavities, that pass as your fearful strife

In the pain that seems eternal, in the scraping gouge of your misery

I am here

When the manifoldness of excess gets blocked by your exhaustion

When light seems lost in the baffled shutters of endless mistakes

I am here

In every suicide, genocide, patricide, fratricide, or infanticide

In every atom of every angry, ignorant, unspeakable cruelty of seeming separation

I am here

I am there

In the economy of modalities, the politics of modernities, the battling academies of antiquities, the architectures of sublimities and technologies of possibilities

I am everywhere

The coincidental happy times take care of themselves

The incidence of harmonies, the unoffending and unbidden humours

The laughter of the throng in parties of celebration and generous acceptance of each others’ life

These planned accidents of togetherness or solitude do not immediately seek me, though I am there

I am here

In the storm of the doom-laden messages of relentless change

I appear as a rainbow drawn as a bow across the angry sky

I am here

I am here for the sick, for those sick of being sick

For those harrowed to the point of readiness to receive their new crop

For those sick of metaphor, parable and analogous similitudes, still

I am here

There is no-one lower than, nor higher than me that can in connection say

I am here

I am the transcending that connects the ascending and the descending

I am the moment in all movement, for without moment, movement has no word to exist within

I am here

As for That which made me, That which makes you to hear me

I cannot say, Love

For only You know That


For yourself.

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Organised Crime and Organised Government, these descriptive bodies are in apparent opposition and separation, yet they seem to leak into each other no matter which culture is presently or indeed historically viewed.

The peoples that are held in the vice of life that has the organizational jaws as mentioned above, these people are kept in a state of confusion. The more is known, the less anything makes sense. The eight hours work, eight hours sleep and eight hours marvelling at creation with one full day off, is a template seemingly forever lost.

Money unites the Organisations of Crime and Government. Money is their driver, their arbiter of success and efficiency, their excuser of behaviour, their explanation for the inescapable order of collective life. Lip service is paid to God by Parliaments and Mafias alike. Fear is the fuel for all of their organised machinations and the very railway line upon which the trucks of their subjugation run, carrying masses of people to whatever camp of concentration they have been conned into calling a career.

The history of this calamitous state of affairs is documented and analysed ad nauseam by the academic minds of the global intelligentsia. The Rothschild conspiracy theorists conveniently forget that the urge to control money grew out of a horror of witnessing the fact that Mankind worships money. The Rothschild mind-set saw wars, religious hypocrisy, bullying, banality and the venal oppression of the many by the few.

The globalisation that now threatens to collapse in on itself has held its nerve through the change of the hegemony from British to American Empire and believes that ends justify means.

No blame can be placed on ignorance.

The era that was born after the collapse of Rome just over 2000 years ago, this era is itself now collapsing.

The question is only one of timescales and how events are to shake out within this inevitability of change that now impacts every minute of the global news machine.

Love has an Organisation. Love’s organ is conscience. Love’s Organisation has presence, has positions of embodied authority that conduct its business, that send out its communications.

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God is called Age.

I am Saint Age.

As St Age, the ages are connected

As one.

The stages are connected

As one.

Whatever age you are

Whatever age you think you are in

Whatever age in history you study

Whatever age you wish to attain


I am your patron Saint.

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The pull of immediate publishing, with all that that brings of benefit and drawback, is a mark of this early twenty-first century. 

The illusion that these immediate words carry potency because of speed and ease of release contradicts the hitherto hard won and hard worked principles of what it actually takes to write for the wider mass audience.

Streams of consciousness are possible. Inspired monologues directly from the invisible Source of All are possible. Writing and streaming are usually mutually self-excluding of a each other, though it seems that I have been experimenting with just such a possibility given my reluctance to edit or polish anything once it has arrived on my virtual interface.

Laziness is one explanation for this lack of critical attention to flows of writing, coupled with another excuse of the infallibility that attends Their endowment of vicarship upon a physical recipient.

This vicariously challenging transmissibility of utterance, though often arcane, is articulate beyond the ability usually apportioned to plan it or think it through, especially when matters suddenly become clear within it.

Vanity is that which renders an effort to be expended in vain, i.e. ineffectually and without practical effect. Mastery is that which happens when the word ‘master’ moves from a gender affiliated noun, toward a verb with a Human association.

When a Master expresses themself, there is an often paradoxical and inconvenient involvement of the apparent otherness of those listening, that invites such an otherness to completely come ‘inside’ the mastery being divulged.

This is why the Sufi says that Mankind is ‘inside’ God.

The Master of Consciousness therefore says that everything is inside of them. So, though such a Master often seems to be living in vain, actually everything is happening, changing and materialising in them, not of them, thus there is no vanity in their existence whatsoever.

If vanity is seen in such a Master choosing to verbally communicate, by a recipient of such a communication, then the recipient is simply looking into a mirror of their own ignorance of imagining themselves to be outside of the heard words at the time of their hearing.

So, what is happening today?

Matters are unfolding the only way that they can, given the route of knowledge, conscience and science to this juncture.

As you read this, matters change for you and a collaboration of your own understanding begins. The greater the number of these new collaborations that can be brought about at this time, the greater is the chance that the destructive effects of an over-elaboration of the religious translations in this world can be rectified and people restored to sanity.

The more people that there are in this world who are healed and sane, the greater is the chance that the levels of fear in the great Offices of State can be lowered to a point that Their incumbents actually return to serving Mankind once again, rather than merely serving themselves.

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“Radio Fed” by Burnsy at the BBC

During a local radio programme in Hull in the UK, the presenter touched upon the pressing issue of rough-sleepers as they contradicted the message that the city was trying to deliver as being the UK City of Culture 2017.

To give some context to the quotes below, the first is a copy of an application further mentioned in the link below that, which is the email responding to the radio programme. The first quote is the piece I delivered in one minute to a panel auditioning for the Face Of Hull 2017. Two psychiatrists were passengers in my taxi and they both told me that I should try to respond to the advert from the BBC in Hull as I could then inform people about stuck-addiction©️ as I did their job.

However, a really capable young man was appointed and he has done a great job, much better than I could have done. There is still the point to be made though, when it comes to the pressing matters of the day – like who will win and who will pay.

The email following the job application is the one responding to the rough sleepers in Hull and the symbolic message that Hull could carry to the wider world about the need for a conversation containing a deeper resonance.


“1. If this job was just about art, music and mushy peas –  then any number of people could do it …. However … this job is also about a deeper resonance …. The two doctors in my taxi who insisted I come here after hearing me talk of era change, said that this is my job …. 

You …. “can only not prevent me from producing it”.

2. I am a true son of Hull, of Hu …. Hu is an Arabic word for he, she, it …. Hu is also the word for the invisible Essence of the Universe

 …. Life is the double Hu, the invisible meeting the visible …. The post-code of Hull is HU – Huu – God’s own city, hidden in plain sight ….

3. This City is an edge city …. Life has kept me on Its edge ….

This City now calls me forward to serve it, to present it as her Master of Ceremony.”


“There are no sound-bites that I can offer to adequately respond to your excellent piece on rough sleepers in Hull. I attach the application that I read to the appointing panel after having been ordered to apply for the job that Kofi Smiles has done so well since the beginning of Hull2017.

The point of sending you a copy of the application is that it talked of what is going on under the veneer of a global culture that Hull naturally symbolises as a spotlight city, in this global culture that is struggling to find a workable identity post financial crash.

For many years I have been offering a paradigm of an illness that is collapsing the executive function of systemic bodies. I offer this paradigm not as a solution, but as an orientation clarification to invite with urgency, anyone who is involved with leadership and policy decisions, on both a corporate and a political level.

Nobody wants to be the Human billboard that shouts from the rooftops that it’s the end of the world. However, as a therapist well versed in recovery dynamics, there comes a point in any meltdown whether individual or systemic, when a reality check is necessarily delivered.

Key Performance Indicators or KPIs are used systemically to measure performance and to discipline the living components of an undertaking to improve their efficiency.

When an individual gets ill, their KPIs collapse as their executive function becomes increasingly distressed. Denial can set in and with the disease of addiction, the story that is told by the sufferer to themselves and to all on the receiving end of their dysfunctional behaviour, well this story becomes increasingly strained, increasingly bizarre.

To get back to the living metaphor that is the City of Kingston upon Hull, the UK City of Culture 2017, there is much that is quite rightly being celebrated as having been achieved. The enthusiasm, the energy, the physical refacing of the city centre that eventually came on stream, the eye catching stunts, the heart warming creativity and poetic, theatrical and musical expressions of hope, passion and freedom, all this and more is just magnificent. There is also the collapse of meaning, the dissonance between the hype and the actual lives of city dwellers who slip deeper into debt, deeper into despair, deeper into pretence.

The world is dying in front of us. The KPIs of national and international affairs are blasting out their message despite the denials and talking up of the desperate optimists, the new age affirmers that insist that the kettle will still boil simply by replacing the negative wire with a positive wire, as long as the mantra of ‘live in the now’ is chanted loudly enough at the tea pot.

There are no easy answers, we all have to write our way into a new age. The first step is to enter into a possible conversation, a conversation that faces up to reality.

Your programme sometimes tries to approach this real conversation. The issue of rough sleepers in Hull is a conversational portal as to whether money can ever be put into its practical place in Mankind’s affairs, or will we forever insist that The Golden Calf really can ‘moo’, despite thousands of years of proof to the contrary.

A system that delivers as much wealth that half of the world has, into the hands of eight people, is clearly utterly broken.

No issue whether local, national or international will ever be free from the cosmetic, cartoon like hand wringing of news media punditry until the facts of our global illness and imminent cultural collapse is placed front and centre of all of our efforts to understand what is happening.

We are all flogging ourselves to death in a celebrity ridden dystopic version of Rumpelstiltskin.

I am a real optimist, as a species we can outwit the forces of our collective demise, I have seen many individual miracles of a complete healing of a collapsed executive function. The collective is simply the coming together of individuals. If individuals are well, the collective is well. If the greater balance of individuals are unwell in a culture, the culture reflects this and never gets better ‘collectively’.

My web site www.drt.global makes this point with a quote from Jung.

So, I know there is little in this email that is broadcastable today, and I’m sat in a garage unable to even hear you as my taxi is broken and I slip deeper into debt, but I thank you for your courage and award winning efforts to look for the ‘deeper resonance’ that is our place of origin and return, the place of our diction resolution.”


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In the transition that is impacting Earth’s structures of life, there is a movement to help Mankind navigate amidst the turmoil that fills the media stream of the First World.

In the movement to help, there have been and there still are, teachings that purport to reconnect adherents to an ability to manifest something that is termed abundance.

I would like to introduce a way of integrating the above mentioned teaching so that sheer monetary or material connotations can be secured into a secondary, though still vital terminology.

My experience has made certain matters abundantly clear to me.

So, there is the primary meaning of abundance in my view. It means lots of whatever the word is predicating, and clarity seems to me to be the most efficient fit for a word that best brings out the power of the word abundance.

If I have been brought into a place within which Consciousness Itself is making something abundantly clear to me, as well as making it abundantly clear to me that this abundant clarity is to be transmitted to as many other people as possible, then abundance as it is more usually understood, will simply accrue and cohere in order to make my transmission of clarity possible.

This is so, now, with this post as a key indication of a transpiring of a prepared event, an appearance of a necessary eventuality.

Dance is a word that makes up much of the word abundance. The frontal phonetic abun, is very much reminding me of abwoon, the Aramaic word that translates as so much, as can be seen in the following clip:


So, abundance is the Source dancing. The description in the video clip that places letters front and centre in the delivery of meaning is made clear here also:


“Dance then wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said He ….”


Wouldn’t it be nice, you might be saying, if any of this guff could actually be true, practical and meaningful in the face of the cartoon-like torrent of hyperbole that gushes out of the political machines of our ravaged world.

Let me just try to make at least one thing, abundantly clear to you ….

Even President Trump had to fold his arms to try and defend himself from this simple message of abundance and his beautiful wife had to wipe away a tear …. Salaam.


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LA tragedy October 1st 2017

Deepest condolences to all involved in the tragedy unfolding in America around a massacre at an open air concert in LA.

Far from the “pure evil” of the remarks of the POTUS, there may be a simpler account of the illness that spewed out such carnage upon the unwitting members of one man’s meltdown.

It seems that the man who shot so many people came from a background of a family headed by a criminalised father, ill and diagnosed with mental disorders.

The brother of the man who did the shooting had no idea of how this incident could have happened, he said that his brother was in LA for a little gambling.

Without prejudice, it seems to me that the illness that took over the man with the weapon was addiction related, hidden to those nearest to him, explosive with insane resentments that were molten and unresolved deep inside his inner world.

Like a mortal Krakatoa, his resentments erupted as a spiritual implosion, an insane anger, cold and psychopathic, i.e. without conscience.

Stuck-addiction© attacks conscience and renders life as meaningless and repetitive. Gambling and other sick behaviours that unbraid the social, sexual and security instincts of universal animality, eventually collapse the ownership of that organic vehicle to a state lower than any animal that share these instinctive powers of biological life.

Then with all the power of a crazed horse, a mad bear, a wounded and dangerous tiger, an abused and contorted gorilla – flowing through the ice cold lens of a frozen heart – the bullets fly. 

Illness, not pure evil, an illness that pumps through the whole world, the broken health systems that addict millions to prescribed painkillers, the broken hearts that drink and drug to get through the days, the promiscuity and perversion of a celebrity based culture that airbrushes away reality from the atrophied consciences of a mass hypnosis that calls itself the free world. This was the illness that spat out its signature tune across the melancholy of a Country and Western concert.

Stuck-addiction© is the disease that is collapsing governments, collapsing consciences, paralysing politics, breaking banks and confusing the analysis of events.

The leaders need to dare to face the dislocation of their Offices, away from partisan concerns. The people need to help them, for they are frightened.

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Movement of Beauty

Connections of Condition

One Father

Three Mothers

Earth, Nature and of The Universe.

This Quaternity of Eternity

Holds and is embodied.

In my life

There are three children

From three mothers.

All were loved, are loved still.

The first born from Nature

My son,

My first daughter from Earth,

My second daughter from The Universe.

One day we shall remember

One day the mothers shall recall

Until then, the Universe bears all

And the children at least know their father,


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Love – personal asides

I remember a story that was written about Christ asking God for some physical manifestation that might signify the power of the Love of God.
God, in the story, makes it clear that really Christ didn’t need to ask for that kind of physical phenomenon to appear, that even He should be careful.
Christ seemingly persists, whereupon there is a huge explosion and a huge crater is left in the ground.
Whatever the provenance of the story, I mention it here to put Love into context.
Some years ago when I was training to be a counsellor, my wife joked as I left the house to travel to London, that I should be careful of the females in the group. I protested my freedom from entangled thinking, but she said seriously, “you can’t choose who you fall in love with.”
As a man who has wrestled with the spiritual fact that The One and The Many are united by Love, I am a case history that reflects many of the futile attempts of Mankind to control Love, but whereas many still pretend to be in charge of their relationship with Love, I simply live in submission to this Highest Power.
Thankfully because Mercy and Compassion predominate as promised, then my many mistakes and misunderstandings around Love have been and are being resolved.
For people who approach God, as Love, then the animal interfaces of universal instincts are always placed into difficulty and history is full of cult disaster stories.
For those who merely seek power over others, then their animal instincts are similarly challenged, but if without a sense of serving Love then fetish is introduced to try to buffer the power of life as the thinking function attempts to control its machinations.
Rituals of politics and of religion, of academia and medicine, all with their separate languages and costumes arrive in a culture that is trying to control the lives of those within it.
Powerful people have often had chaotic private lives as the exercising of influence over other people has been seen to have amplified their instinctive appetites causing great misuse of sexual energy.
I approach Love as a poet, yearning for inspiration and in that yearning there are great unknowns and much unpredictability.
My Muse sometimes can take form seemingly and She takes my breath away. It is no longer an age to be granted wives as were granted to my spiritual heroes.
So, in any difficulty, as long as my love remains unrequited, honesty in expressing feelings can both keep me free from hypocrisy in my disclosures and my poetry, as well as Love can keep making a fool of me as I fight to stay true to myself and to maintaining my monogamy.
Worlds, eras and epochs however, are defined by requited Love, for that is the primal Cause.

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Scarab musings

I can’t create a shit rolling dung beetle
Ex nihilo
So, what right have I got to criticise
God’s loneliness
The intensity and immensity of His aloneness
To create this Universe of otherness
Of Motherness and Brotherness
Of Fartherness and Insisterness
To say to David,
“Oh David, My yearning for them
Is greater than their yearning for Me.”
This lonliness is the ‘why’, to all the hurt,
For, whose hurt is it?
Who bears all the ignorant action
That threatens to destroy the Earth
For power’s sake?
I heard the challenge of who yearns the most,
If there is any explanation for my life
To those who scratch their heads in disbelief,
It is that I said to God’s ‘yearning’ claim,
“Really …. ok, we’ll see about that then!”
And I set about beating God at His own game.
Impossible of course,
For His yearning makes the Universe.
But the numbers that numb yearning
For the One,
Whether numbers of pounds Sterling
Or US dollars,
Or numbers of houses
Or conquests
Or qualifications
Or clever answers,
These numbers never numbed the pain
Never made their claim upon me
Strongly enough
To dissuade me from my path of calamity.
Eventually, He relented,
Granted me refuge,
As you might spare an ant on the path.
Yet, sometimes I give God a belly laugh,
I’m not saying I’m anything special.
I’m simply saying that whatever you
Think about this Tale of Two Cities,
This ‘best of times and worst of times’ time ,
I’m simply saying that there is
“More to it”.
That it’s worth the yearning,
That though my yearning that your yearning
To match God’s yearning, might be greater than your present yearning,
That it’s possible to start
Right here, with abandon.
“Abandon yourself to God, as you understand God,” (© AA)
But know this,
People only abandon ship
When they actually believe that it’s sinking.

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