A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)
[Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare]
Have pity ! show no pity !
Those eyes that send such shivers
Into my brain and spine : oh let them
Flame like the ancient city
Swallowed up by the sulphurous rivers
When men let angels fret them !
Yea ! let the south wind blow,
And the Turkish banner advance,
And the word go out : No quarter !
But I shall hod thee -so !
While the boys and maidens dance
About the shambles of slaughter !
I know thee who thou art,
The inmost fiend that curlest
Thy vampire tounge about
Earth’s corybantic heart,
Hell’s warrior that whirlest
The darts of horror and doubt !
Thou knowest me who I am
The inmost soul and saviour
Of man ; what hieroglyph
Of the dragon and the lamb
Shall thou and I engrave here
On Time’s inscandescable cliff ?
Look ! in the plished granite,
Black as thy cartouche is with sins,
I read the searing sentence
That blasts the eyes that scan it :
“HOOR and SET be TWINS.”
A fico for repentance !
Ay ! O Son of my mother
That snarled and clawed in her womb
As now we rave in our rapture,
I know thee, I love thee, brother !
Incestuous males that consumes
The light and the life that we capture.
Starve thou the soul of the world,
Brother, as I the body !
Shall we not glut our lust
On these wretches whom Fate hath hurled
To a hell of jesus and shoddy,
Dung and ethics and dust ?
Thou as I art Fate.
Coe then, conquer and kiss me !
Come ! what hinders? Believe me :
This is the thought we await.
The mark is fair ; can you miss me ?
See, how subtly I writhe !
Strange runes and unknown sigils
I trace in the trance that thrills us.
Death ! how lithe, how blithe
Are these male incestuous vigils !
Ah ! this is the spasm that kills us !
Wherefore I solemnly affirm
This twofold Oneness at the term.
Asar on Asi did beget
Horus twin brother unto Set.
Now Set and Horus kiss, to call
The Soul of the Unnatural
Forth from the dusk ; then nature slain
Lets the Beyond be born again.
This weird is of the tongue of Khem,
The Conjuration used of them.
Whoso shall speak it, let him die,
His bowels rotting inwardly,
Save he uncover and caress
The God that lighteth his liesse.
A few random poems:
- Mother, I Cannot Mind My Wheel by Sappho
- To Her Beauty by Nithin Purple
- Василий Курочкин – Мы всё смешное косим, косим
- On His Blindness poem – John Milton poems
- Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare
- Her Vision In The Wood by William Butler Yeats
- Imitations of Horace: The First Epistle of the Second Book poem – Alexander Pope
- A Tale of Starvation poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- June by William Cullen Bryant
- Jerusalem Delivered – Book 03 – part 04 by Torquato Tasso
- The Wish poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Reconciliation by William Butler Yeats
- Омар Хайям – Долго ль спину придется мне гнуть или нет
- Robert Burns: Second Epistle To Robert Graham, ESQ., Of Fintry:
- TEMPORARY AND NOW by PEGGY AYLSWORTH
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Robert Burns: Lines On The Commemoration Of Rodney’s Victory:
- Robert Burns: Thanksgiving For A National Victory:
- Robert Burns: Lines Inscribed In A Lady’s Pocket Almanac:
- Robert Burns: On Commissary Goldie’s Brains:
- Robert Burns: The True Loyal Natives:
- Robert Burns: The Soldier’s Return:
- Robert Burns: Meg O’ The Mill : Another Version
- Robert Burns: Meg O’ The Mill:
- Robert Burns: Lovely Young Jessie:
- Robert Burns: Lord Gregory:
- Robert Burns: Open The Door To Me, Oh:
- Robert Burns: Wandering Willie: Revised Version
- Robert Burns: Wandering Willie: First Version
- Robert Burns: Sonnet Written On The Author’s Birthday, : On hearing a Thrush sing in his Morning Walk.
- Robert Burns: Braw Lads O’ Galla Water:
- Robert Burns: On Politics:
- Robert Burns: Poortith Cauld And Restless Love:
- Robert Burns: A Tippling Ballad: On the Duke of Brunswick’s Breaking up his Camp, and the defeat of the Austrians, by Dumourier, November 1792.
- Robert Burns: Here’s A Health To Them That’s Awa:
- Robert Burns: Duncan Gray:
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