Last night, around twelve midnight, I began to feel very weak. When I got out of my chair my whole body and being felt askew. I felt like I had been twisted into a pretzel. I was numb, and could not walk in a strait line. I looked into the mirror I beheld an exhausted and tired old man. He was sad, He had recalled going in the grocery store located at 55 Anderson. He had forgot the name of the owner, who lived upstairs in a appartment. He had bald white hair. He said;
“They want their building back!”
He was talking about the Boston Mafia who sold 40 Anderson to a thug who I stopped from knocking support walls down in a building built in 1779. For five months I took the original owner, and the new owner to court. The latter was an attorney and brother-in-law of a Mafia boss. There were three other Beacon Hill properties in the packaged deal. My building was full of un-desirable hippie-leftist types that had to go. This Terrorist Group saw itself as – respectable! They hated the Kennedys that had a home a couple of blocks up the street. This thug gave two creeps a bunch of methadone, and they came after me. They butchered a black Labrador puppy. I caught the doing this. They came at me with bloody knives. I have identified this incident and another as the cause of my PTSD. I began to drink heavily. Consider Poe’s ‘The Black Cat’.
When I awoke this morning, I was completely back in my body, and right mind. I am the literary Walk-in of John Wilson, and Edgar Allan Poe whose name I invoked around 9:30 P.M. on November 17, 2020. Poe died of alcoholic and drug abuse. His story ‘The Black Cat’ is a First Step – a confession! Edgar is suffering from mentally ill thoughts brought on by substance abuse. After talking about my psychic reading, Hillary Larson, the head of Serenity Lane and the Buckley House, said;
“I think you are a walk-in. but, don’t tell anyone the head of Serenity Lane told you this.”
Hillary is a writer. I showed her my completed science fiction short story ‘Chameleon Art’. Poe was one of the first science fiction writers. He tried to publish a newspaper. He was born in a house overlocking the Boston Commons. (see below) He signed one work “A Bostonian”.
I just found an e-mail wherein I propose marriage to Belle Burch. My artist friend, Stefan Eins, asks about Belle. He wants to know when we are going to leave on the train to New York where lives my first lover who has been titled “The Cat Lady of Greenwich Village. Poe Lived in the Village as did I in 1963. Christine’s father was a well known Beacon Hill Doctor. I was in his office on the ground floor helping my first lover clear out all the drugs he had stored. Doctors are given free drugs. We looked at about five large hefty bags in the alley, and then became concerned for the bum/addict who opened one. Christine was the lover of Peter Shapiro the leader of the Marbles and then The Loading Zone. We had lived together in a large mansion on 13th. Street in downtown Oakland. I tell Belle if she marries me, she will be a Boston Blue Blood. I also write about the Republican Party and the Christian-right in a fit of pure prophecy.
“Now that the God founding our Democracy claim is out of the way, this leaves ‘Patriotic Republican Family Values’ which looks like my kindred and I own the franchise on. If you play by their rules, then I own the right to say this – loud and clear; Get out of my families party you evangelical Red State Traitors! Get out!”
Alley Vlakyrie had to have read this e-mail. She sees herself as a Gothic Writer and Wiccan Anarchist, who with her lover, John Monroe, and their friends, Belle Burch and Ambrose, have taken over Ken Kesey – in the name of the Homeless of Eugene. These two couples have invented a new brand of Bohemianism – as anarchists – and not Bohemians. They feel entitled to do this because they claim the Eugene city Government, and the Citizens of the Emerald Valley – failed to solve the homeless problem – something we could do very easily – if we wanted to. Because we didn’t, we lose the Downtown Art Scene to homeless, mentally ill beggars who have harassed art patrons, workers, and shop owners – for years!
I just found an e-mail I sent to Jon Ruiz who was the City Manager who closed down Whoville, who then moved into Ken Kesey Square again. I suggested members of SLEEPS is not keeping an accounting of monies given to them. When I called the FBI they suggested this might be a case of “Racketeering” when you throw in the threats. Kim Haffner employs, the false defense made by ALL members of SLEEPS who had to be aware of the threats I got from Alley. How many knew she was going to send it? How many took money from citizens – and didn’t record it as required by law if you are a non-profit organization? Haffner and her gleaner friends gave food to Whoville. This appears to be Conspiracy. I am so free of this slanderous attack on me!
I am inspired to write a short story called ‘Fatty’. Synopsis: A older gentleman moves into a appartment on Anderson Street on Beacon Hill. Below him, in the basement appartment, lives a very obese woman he makes the fatal mistake of befriending. He takes her to dinner and she tells him she is addicted to Gruesome Crime Literature and lives in abject fear of being murdered by a fiendish serial killer. A week later he is getting strange looks from his other neighbors. His landlord talks to him and asks if he has ever been arrested for stalking a beautiful young woman in Eugene Oregon. He is appalled that that the man he pays rent to is invading his privacy. Then he hears Fatty playing this song over and over again – very loudly! When he sees her on at the grocery store, she shouts loudly;
“I want you to stop stalking me! “
The gentleman is shocked. He has a vision of cutting her head off with a chainsaw! Then his cat disappears. It had a habit on sitting in the planter box outside his widow. He buys a chainsaw. He begins to wonder about the last residence. Did she get her claws into him – too?
I am kin to Mel Lyman who married Jessie Benton. Mel published The Avatar and founded a commune in Roxbury – where some writers have suggested Charlie Manson was worshipped. I lived in a commune down the street. Poe would have tried AA if it was around – and Rehab? My sister drowned on her first sober birthday. I do not know how she ended up in the sea, the thing she feared the most. I was the Hippie King of Beacon Hill until I had to flee for my life. I have thirty-three years of sobriety. I am a Walk-in. I am the embodiment of Edgar Allan Poe. I am free of the Ken Kurse of Eugene. I am the Literary Epicenter of Beacon Hill. I am…”A Bostonian”.
Poe invented the Short Story and was the first writer to make a living from his craft. I now link his to my grandfather, Royal Rosamond, and the Black Mask authors. For the first time I want to make money as a writer, and perhaps as an artist – not because I am altruistic – but because my Walk-in is Edgar Allan Poe. We are one and the same. Indeed, I own a License To Kill. I can kill anyone because I can blame it on ‘The Poe In Me’. Alas I am free of the false accusations leveled at me by the Kimmite and Alleybelle gangs. I took on the Mafia in Boston – and lived! My attorney introduced me to Mayor White at a Boston City Celebration. He shook my hand and said;
“It took alot of guts to stand up to those people!”
In the City Records of Eugene Oregon are these infamous words the world will soon know about. Never before in the history of literature, which includes the mental prattling of Aristotle and Homer, has a writer got threats from their muse. This is so Poeish. This is the stuff that great novels are name of.
“She offered to help edit my book for a fee, and model for me.”
In the video below, my tormentor and stalker, Kim Haffner, tells everyone I am to blame for me being harassed. She says I brought it on myself when I sent her a facebook message – that contained the false accusation by Alley on a fake Eugene abuser site. This is a literary crime scene. Poe would cover it for his paper.
John Wilson Poe
“I’m going to make this very simple for you. I don’t know if you know who I am, but I sure as hell know who you are, and when you fuck with my friends, you fuck with me. Stop writing about Belle or I am going to make your life very difficult. I mean it. If I see one more word about her on your blog, your FB, or anywhere else, I will make sure that you experience all the fear and discomfort that she is experiencing right now. And no, this isn’t a physical threat, so don’t try to play victim. Frankly, I encourage you to contact EPD, as they already know all about you. I will not do anything illegal, but mark my word you will regret it if you write one more word about her. I will make sure that the entire community knows exactly how much of a sick fuck you are. Your picture, your name, and “samples” of your writing will be posted on every bulletin board in town. There will not be a single person in the Eugene/Springfield area who won’t know that you’re a sick stalker who won’t leave a stalker who won’t leave a young girl alone. Cut it out. Now. This is your first, last, and only warning.”
Wed, May 21, 2014 at 11:06 PM
Subject: Does SLEEPS employ proper means to accept donations?
We talked on the phone over a month ago about George Miller. Shortly after I met a 23 yeard old woman in Ken Kesey Square on Art Walk. She took my number and called me ten days later saying she wanted to talk to me. She offered to help edit my book for a fee, and model for me. My family are famous artists. Belle Burch was supposed to tell me who she was. When I found out she was involved with radicals involved with SLEEPS and had been arrested after invading your office, I told her she had deceived me, and may be trying to cone me. Burch said you were a “coward” in a e-mail.
Ten days later, Alley Valkyrie sends me a very threatening message on FB. I did not know her. She says she is defending Belle. Belle calls two hours later and asks me to take everything about her off my blog. Alley was labeling me a sexual preditor and stalker of Burch. If so, why did cancel our modeling session? What I think I stumbled upon, is, SLEEPS core people are pocketing money citizens want to go to the homeless. Are they set up like OCCUPY?
Fri, Apr 18, 2014 at 7:31 PM
We did a dance, and we did a rose.
with radiant face you asked
“Have you ever loved so much
that you could love no more?”
This question lies
in the fragrance of a rose
that we must let go of
or be crushed by
the memory of unlimited love
This question can only be answered
by one who loves to dance
just when we think we are
and all love is exhausted
Comes the Genius of Love!
To the genius of love!
I lived three blocks down the street from the Lyman Family who took over about twelve houses on Fort Hill. My niece, Drew Benton shares the same DNA with Jessie Benton and Mel’s child by Jessie. Quentin Taranteno could have had a fictional showdown in Roxbury, with the Lyman Family, but he didn’t. He will have to pay me for this opportunity.
Two female members of The Process Church came to visit me in our Roxbury commune. One became my lover. The other I saved from the Mafia. This is the real deal – not Hollywood! This authentic drama called for a foreign film director.
I talked to Paul Williams when I went up to the fort during the first snow. He approached me and asked me what I doing there. I had on my black cape. He told me he was a guard. He said he was.
“Do you carry a gun?”
Paul showed me a small pistol. He may have made his break after out long talk. These were extremely interesting times. There were a lot of gutsy people who wanted their experiences. Every day was a movie! Terantino swooped down and picked up some cash and more fame. We dropped out of that trap. We went to the Lyman house to pick up food in our Food Conspiracy where hippies went into the produce market at five in the morning and bought wholesale. We should have been backed my the government. I just saw a report where twenty-five million Americans got hurt last year by misusing alcohol.
Then there was the shoe factory we lived in. I lucked out! To wake up and find a beautiful young woman standing at the foot of your bed wearing a blue cape, was heavenly. In five minutes she climbs into my bed.
John Ambrose <email@example.com>
Mon, Apr 21, 2014 at 11:13 AM
I want a rewrite, Belle! If you can take the time to memorize Howl – and then what? – you can tell the world the Sleeping Belle on the concrete in from of city hall where the business man tread on his way to make a $ sign. Everyone that has driven by has wondered what it would be like for them to lie on cold concrete. To know a very beautiful woman lies in a tent – will shock the shit out of us – and we may awaken?
You lie there, reading the make of his shoe, imprinted on your soul. Research shoe BRANDS and use them. Attache cases! Yellow lights are bug-lights that zap the disenfranchised. Tazers! Dawn! Broken promises of a far-off lover! Why is he not by your side? Why are you there! You give a report. Why use “yesterday”? Conspiracry radio gives you -rest? Why cant THE PEOPLE wake up and do the right thing?
The faeries who put people
to sleep for 100 years must live there
in that West Atlantic Vortex.
The legend of Sleeping Beauty whose finger is pierced by flax, that my Rosamond family spun for centuries. Weavers were Europe’s first radicals. They formed guilds and the first democracies. Ghandi and his spinning wheel.
Then there are the BRANDS of gum stuck to the concrete!
Last night I fell
asleep in a tent on the concrete
in front of city hall
to the sounds of a quiet radio-
some show about the Bermuda Triangle.
How things, people
Whether or not it exists.
Interviews with people
John Ambrose <firstname.lastname@example.org>To email@example.comFri, Apr 18, 2014 at 10:23 PMBelle…….I have to try to make this perfectly clear to you. You are the end of my novel ‘Capturing Beauty’. Why are you this? There are two terrible biographies out there about my famous sister (and her family) and a famous producer bought the right to put Christine and her family up in the silver screen. There is one thing preventing this, no one can answer why Rosamond painted beautiful women. She was not a lesbian. What happened was she saw a photograph of the large painting I did of Rena, and this inspired her take up art with she was 24. She was highly commercialized and asked me to help her feel like an artist.
Belle, she did not, and could not feel, and experience what we felt today. She could not, and did not ever have such an incredibly creative conversation with such a beautiful young woman that would inspire her, like you inspired me. She worked from pics of fashion models. My sister saw me love these beautiful women. I inspired her. She never met a man like me, except when she and Bryan were lovers. But, Bryan had several lovers and did not want to commit to any of them.
Belle, you don’t have to do anything, give me anything, that you have not already given me. When I beheld you with your eyes closed as I read my poem to you, is the end scene of my movie. This is why I wanted to film it. Do you understand?
I am not into taking something for myself. My Great Muse does not allow me to cash-in, make money from my gifts. If I get anything from you, I am going to give it back to you. What is your scene in this movie? How do you want it to end? This is a love story. It begins with two beautiful boys who met when they were twelve, and they were artists, poets, and playwrites. My dear friend Bill killed himself on my eighteenth birthday. Christine had a secret crush on Bill. I have………..carried on! Bryan was an artist. My three artist friends I loved dearly, are gone. Then…………here come you!
If this was a French movie, it would be called ‘My Beautiful Blue Bicycle’ . How do you say and spell this in French?
“All’s well, that ends well!”
How do you want your movie to end?
John Ambrose <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Sat, Apr 19, 2014 at 5:32 PM
I just sent my latest blog to my radical artist friend in New York. I told him about your arrest, and now you are – in – as promised! I am a man of my word. You will know this, and trust me some day. I gave you that bike because I know you are in dire straights. I know your place of work closed down. I figured you needed the bike to go look for work. I got all this information by googling you. I sent you a facebook request.
I will do anything to help you. I will never hurt you! Want to go to New York and speak before your nomadic creative compatriots who have fought against the bad real estates deals?
John Ambrose <email@example.com>
Mon, Apr 21, 2014 at 9:46 AM
Belle……You have forced my HAND. You are my Disciple. There is no other explanation. “There will be signs!” Signs written on the hands. I can teach you what I know about the Ogham as put forth by the poet Robert Graves in his book ‘The White Goddess’. Da Vinci used hand signs. You wrote a message on your hands and hold them out for the world to see. You beautiful hands are angel wings I will show you the female followers of Mercury.
There is no greater love than the love a master has for his disciple. I push you. You resist. Tai Chi. Kneeling Tiger. My grandmother was Mary Magdalene Rosamond. There is not other name like this in human history.
You were ONE OF THE TWELVE HOMELESS arrested. Sages are homeless. The Nazarites were homeless. The traveling Gleeman were homeless. Why?
John Ambrose <firstname.lastname@example.org>To: email@example.comTue, Apr 22, 2014 at 8:51 AM
I was up late looking at births on Amtrak. You can have the upper – if you will be my beloved wife!
Here is my dear friend Virginia Hambley getting down on one knee and proposing to me. She speaks fluent French, and is line to the throne of France that is in the works. I believe we saw you over at the Beanery, you one of those Southy Skamps with a pack. I recall those eyes.
If you marry me, you will be a Blue Blood of Boston, Charleston, San Francisco, and a Radical Blue Blood. My kindred were Radical Republicans, members of the Turnverein, whose branch founded the nation of Israel employing terrorism. We were Forty-Eighters, and the Orange Lodge. You will be kin to the Preston family who are kin to Princess Diana and her two sons William and Harry.
Here is my friend, Stefan Eins suggesting I come to New York with my Muse (Amy) and have that be the end of my book and movie. Amy fell out of favor when she brought these young acid-head wanna-be radicals into the mix. We are friends now.
When you pose for me on Thursday or Friday, you will be in the company offashion Model and Muse, Talitha Getty, who was married John P. Getty Jr. who amassed the world’s largest art collection. Talitha is still the Bohemian Fashion Muse that influenced the first work of my late sister, the world artist, Christine Rosamond Benton, who husband rendered murals at the Getty mansions. Lawrence Chazen owns several high class restaurants and is a partner in the PlumpJack Wineries along with members of the Getty, Newsom, and Pelosi family. Add to this the political Benton and Fremont family, ad you have California Bohemian Royalty.
I think Ambrose should give you away at our wedding, after all, folks might think he sullied your reputation. I understand those goosebumps on your arm were not for me, but for Ambrose who called you at the Wandering Goat – where I kissed your hand – thus fulfilling the prophecy that a worthy Prince will hack his way thru the Roses and Thorns to awaken Sleeping Belle, and give her famous bicycle……Bluebelle!
Now that the God founding our Democracy claim is out of the way, this leaves ‘Patriotic Republican Family Values’ which looks like my kindred and I own the franchise on. If you play by their rules, then I own the right to say this – loud and clear;Get out of my families party you evangelical Red State Traitors! Get out!
This is the post that I sent to Kim Haffner that our neighbor Krista saw. I believe she is a rabid End Time evangelical computer freak. I get to criticize her and anyone’s religion in my blog/newspaper. She and her lover do not get to launch physical attacks, and make threats aimed at retaliation. The threat to get rid of Clark is in response to this post. Krista is a monster hog woman who was smug in her belief no non-Christian could attack the heretical teaching of John Darby, who invented the Rapture. Because of my illustrious ancestors, she had to believe I was in league with the Anti-Christ, and went insane. She and her lover should be locked up.
John ‘The Prophet’
Several researchers say my 9th. grandfather is buried in a vault under King’s Chapel in Boston, but, his remains and coffin have not been found. There is a hidden room, that contains his massive folio of writing. He wrote many poems in Latin. Rena Easton was supposed to come to Boston in 1970. She is destined to find Wilson’s bones with me, and commit to memory my kin’s work. My twice named unborn granddaughter, is destined to own the Wilson legacy. She too will own an amazing memory. Lara Roozemond is my kindred. She is coming to believe in her destiny, and moves into the Realm of the Rose in the Water of Eternal Life!
The insane and deluded Evangelical President is meeting with a Russian Warlock today in order to decide the fate of America found by the Wilsons. Trump has the Attorney General on the leash of The Devil, and has ordered him to destroy the FBI and the Department of Justice. The Southern Baptist Hersey is the bodyguard of a Lying Lunatic – who is Impeached! Of course Trump and Melania want to find the Fountain of Youth. The First Lady is one-hundred a eighty-six years old!
John Wilson Rosamond
Today is John Wilson’s Day. He is a great grandfather of mine. He was the head of the First Church of Boston, and a Puritan leader of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He judged two women. One was excommunicated, the other, hanged.
The question I put forth, is, was the Spirit of Jesus at these trials? Was his spirit, invoked? This is the late 1600s. Jesus has not yet bid The Boston Patriots to rebel against the Church of England, and Their King, which the ministers of The King’s Church – ruled an Act of Treason!
Did Jesus found our Democracy in 1776? Most of the evangelicals who lay hands of the President of the United States, claim God-Jesus did just that. Why then didn’t King Jesus bid our Founding Fathers to give women The Right To Vote? It appears women had a voice in the first churches established in The Colonies – by my kindred. Does this give me a Divine Parotitic Voice? Or, do I have to subscribe to The Rapture? Are these questions ones that Brett Kavanaugh should be considering, verses what other woman is going to step out of the dark and accuse him of getting a teenage child drunk and raping her with the help of his best friend – who will not be testifying today!
John Presco ‘Nazarite Judge’
“On the eve of an extraordinary hearing of the Senate Judiciary Committee at which both Judge Kavanaugh and Christine Blasey Ford, a California professor who has accused him of assaulting her when they were both teenagers, will testify, Mr. Trump said that “some very evil” Democrats had plotted to destroy Judge Kavanaugh’s reputation. And he lamented what he called “a very dangerous period in our country” in which men are presumed guilty.”
While Wilson had little to say during Hutchinson’s civil trial, he delivered the final pronouncement at her church trial.
Wilson exhorted Mary Dyer to repent, but it was her goal to hang as a martyr.
In the 1650s Quaker missionaries began filtering into the Massachusetts Bay Colony, mostly from Rhode Island, creating alarm among the colony’s magistrates and ministers, including Wilson. In 1870, M’Clure wrote that Wilson “blended an intense love of truth with as intense a hatred of error”, referring to the Quakers’ marked diversion from Puritan orthodoxy
My kindred, John Wilson, is buried in The King’s Chapel, along with Elizabeth Pain who is associated with Hester Prynne the subject of Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.
Christine Wandel lived on Hancock Street located on Beacon Hill. I lived on Anderson Street a few blocks away. I took the Mafia to court at the top of Hancock, and won. I loved in with Dottie Witherspoon on Cambridge. She descends from Signer, John Witherspoon. We were both looking for a new religion. We were destined for the Church. I should have never left Boston. I have features like John Wilson. I am kin to real Boston Bluebloods.
I am going to author a Television Script titled ‘The Return of the Scarlet Letter’. The series will span time. The spirit of John and Elizabeth will come into the beings of many. John was the minister of the first church in Boston and brought the word of God to the Native Americans, and is in Hawthorne’s book. Beacon Hill was a Hobbit like place.
Ye BODY OF ELIZABETH PAIN WIFE TO SAMUEL PAIN AGED NEAR 52 YEARS, DEPARTED THIS LIFE NOUEMBR
Ye 26 1704
So said Hester Prynne, and glanced her sad eyes downward at the scarlet letter. And, after many, many years, a new grave was delved, near an old and sunken one, in that burial–ground beside which King’s Chapel has since been built. It was near that old and sunken grave, yet with a space between, as if the dust of the two sleepers had no right to mingle. Yet one tomb–stone served for both. All around, there were monuments carved with armorial bearings; and on this simple slab of slate—as the curious investigator may still discern, and perplex himself with the purport—there appeared the semblance of an engraved escutcheon. It bore a device, a herald’s wording of which may serve for a motto and brief description of our now concluded legend; so sombre is it, and relieved only by one ever–glowing point of light gloomier than the shadow:— “ON A FIELD, SABLE, THE LETTER A, GULES”
Pain’s headstone has “an engraved escutcheon” on which enthusiasts see the letter A (for adultery): it appears in the shield to the right of two lions. Scholar Laurie Rozakis has argued that an alternate or additional source for the story may be Hester Craford, a woman flogged for fornication with John Wedg.