Tasha Allen

Who I'd like to meet:

POETS, Artists,Vampires, Werewolves, other creatures of the night, and also PEOPLE WITH STAGGERING INNER BEAUTY.







Check out this video: Joy Tour World Première





Spirit Guide


I was a sailor along for the ride. And I did not know where I was going, or from whence I had come. All I knew was that I was a seeker, whom had left everything behind. I had to grow my sea-legs. Little did I know, that this was a pivotal night of radical change. I sensed something was coming. I sensed that I had encased more personal power than the night previous. But it was only the beginning. And I had no idea of what, specifically, was to occur...



It was a night of the usual-- dropping acid and smoking bong hits, while listening to The Who. Conversations and communications consisted of telepathic, ghostly innuendos which transferred, like lightening from one possessed soul into another.


Small lessons were learned, such as, that truth is always evident, and that there are no secrets. And that ego is a useless, illusory roadblock which serves no purpose other than to cause the possessor of it to look like a fool in the face of soul-nakedness.


So, the usual music was playing, the usual drugs were being ingested, and the occurrence of building up of sexual energy-- for later consumption, was taking place.
Until...
I had to pee. By this time, the acid was kicking in, and we had a good buzz going, (which took the edge off of the blotter), and I had to go use the bathroom. So I put down my coffee cup and meandered towards the upstairs bathroom. I reveled in my foolish, youthful invincibility, as I ascended the winding staircase. I eventually reached the top floor.

No sooner did I reach the plateau of the bedroom on the top floor, did I sense an ominous, foreboding presence in the back of the room, casually sitting behind the heavy, hand-carved oak desk, in the over-sized black leather office chair. I was not alarmed, as I did not feel threatened. The overly large, dark being had no visual malice towards me, as it did nothing but sit in that chair waiting for something. The dark figure had been waiting for me.


I thought nothing of it, really. So, I went about my business in the bathroom. Even as I was sitting on the throne, I continued to sense the being's presence, but continued to think nothing of it. It wasn't there to hurt me, that much I knew. So I decided to live and let live. No big deal.


I finished up in the bathroom, and turned off the light. I walked, casually out of the bathroom, and stopped. The dark, ominous presence was still there. Only this time, he stood up. I was in awe watching this presence going throught the motions of standing up. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was actually watching this being in motion. This was how I came to know of the presence as being real, and actual and not some figment of my imagination.


He stood up, and moved from behind the desk over to where I was standing, and stopped four feet, directly in front of me. I telepathically asked what it wanted, because by this time, the being had just been in the room, and had said nothing to me.


I asked him this question, and got no response. He just stood there-- all eight feet of him. The being was tall and very wide-- about three feet in width. Surprisingly large, like one of those freakishly large football players, whom you think can't be real, and would not believe it so, if he were not standing in front of you, in all of his grandeur.


I continued to ponder why, and how it came to be that this large, dark being made his way into my life and continued not to answer me. I gave up, figuring that he would not answer any of my questions no matter how long I stood there.


So, I turned, and descended down the twisting stairs towards the living room area, where I had left my coffee. This time, pondering who or what the being was, instead of focusing on my youthful beauty.


Just as soon as I got down the stairs, I heard a thousand quiet whisperings saying: "You are now one of us." I hesitantly walked forward, through a spirit trellis/ gate, which was lined with roses, intertwined at the cornerstone of the structure. I'd felt that I had been initiated into something; into what I did not know. But I knew that I 'd felt different. Safe. Protected. Loved. And Accepted-- a feeling that I had never known before in my short, brutish life.


And of course, my fiance just stood there asking what that thing was that I had brought into the house. I could not answer him because I had not brought anything into anywhere. The presence showed up of its own accord, and was still there for a good while after the events had unfolded. Not once that evening, did the presence intrude maliciously.


He was powerful, and I sensed that he could have been menacing. But when he appeared to me, it felt as if I were being gently embraced; like a beloved friend.


Years later, after the crux of my seeking was over, and I had become a spiritual master, and had overcome most of the things there were to overcome, did I realize that this dark, foreboding, and potentially menacing presence was my spirit guide, come to bid me farewell through my journey into the deepest parts of the dark forest of this thing we call the human condition. It was much later that I discovered his name: Abbadon.



TCA 2008






















.. ..







Create your own visitor map!









Lie Down Anywhere, A Poem About Things



Lie down anywhere
on this wet rock
at night
and stare into
the furious tantrum of stars
and feel
how this planet tries
to fling you
away,
how it tries to recede
from the touch of your body
like a lover
who's grown sick of you.
Try to say where this place is
(as if a chart meant anything,
as if location meant anything).
Do you own a map?
Look!
"You are Here"
but
you're going to be splattered
in the explosion
which is turning the mechanism
of gravity,
and you won't know what that's all about
till the total mass of the universe crushes you
and you die.
With this as the inevitable ending,
do you really want to know your place
in the greater scheme of things?
Instead of that
maybe you should
get a job,
be cynical
and
spend your salary
on sensations;
or perhaps you should
smoke a lot of pot
to dull sensation
till all that's left is delusion
and convince yourself
that it's a state of
heightened awareness;
or maybe some LSD,
which will allow you to tongue-kiss god;
or try religion,
which will allow you
to give god a rim job;
or you can kill someThing;
or fuck someThing;
Or you can eat Things.
The important Thing is
to just keep busy,
because Americans
have all gone nutsy--
They've been looking for Noah's Ark,
running for president,
and they often experience feelings
of madness and isolation;
and that may be because
they see something
unspeakable
when they look back
over their shoulder
from the surface
of the moon.

TCA 2006







Contact Information On Sans Foy, Sans Loy:
TCA
P.O. Box 495
Mont Alto, PA.
17237
yeoman_poet@hotmail.com


Here,too: