Old Wood Throne

“…within which were three or four large stones, forming a kind of seat, with a back and a foot-stool. On the upper stone lay a white petticoat; on the second a silk scarf.”

“The earth was trampled , the bushes were broken, and there was every evidence of a struggle.”

No Worries

No explanation needed.

No answers required.

When horrid urges rears its fangs deep within.

No worries, no apologies, nothing are ever needed.

Small yet Intense

“Your art project is edgy but pushing it too much makes it tacky. You need to keep it sublime, mysterious, undefinable. Referring to hunts and murders are tiresome clichés, that should be minimized as an ephemeral background”

Thus spoke the most satisfying pray this side of the wintery moon, for whose cold bed a pizza has been embedded for ultimate tackiness.


Thank you Eternal Night, for such small yet intense pleasures.

Seven By Seven

“When she had finished her incantation,

She pinched off fourteen pieces of clay,

And set seven pieces on the right,

Seven on the left.

Between them she put down a mud brick.

She made use of a reed, opened it to cut the umbilical cord,

Called up the wise and knowledgeable

Womb goddesses, seven and seven.

Seven created males,

Seven created females,

For the womb goddess is creator of fate ”

Dream The Undreamt II

“On the first, seventh, and fifteenth of the month

He made a purification by washing.

Geshtu-E, a god who had intelligence,

They slaughtered in their assembly.

Nintu mixed clay

with his flesh and blood.

They heard the drumbeat forever after.”

Dream The Undreamt

“Come, let us carry
The counselor of the gods, the warrior, from his dwelling.
Come, let us carry Ellil,
The counselor of the gods, the warrior, from his dwelling.
Now, cry battle!
Let us mix fight with battle!”

And so, behold, the communion was made through the fiery feast

Melek Taos

“He has given the entire control of this world for ten thousand years to the bright spirit, Melek Taos, and Him, therefore, we worship. Moslems and Christians are wrongly taught that he whom we call Melek Taos is the spirit of evil. We know that this is not true. He is the spirit of power and the ruler of this world. At the end of the ten thousand years of his reign—of which we are now in the third thousand—he will reenter paradise as the chief of the Seven Bright Spirits, and all his true worshipers will enter paradise with him.”

VVhore

Lie down gently my sweet little vvhore

Lie down moldy and sexy, trust the warmth of my steel, sweet little vvhore

He Cares Nothing

“Well, we, of course, also believe in God,” he told me

“but our difference from all other religions is this—that we know God is so far away that we can have no contact with Him—and He, on his part, has no knowledge or interest of any sort concerning human affairs. It is useless to pray to Him or worship Him. He cares nothing about us. Not if we die, if we kill each other during parades, become fags or even atheists for that matter.”

Seven Towers

Few dreams have hold me enthralled in the aether as had this one.

It was a clear vivid message.

“Stretching across Asia, from Northern Manchuria, through Thibet, west through Persia, and ending in the Kurdistan, was a chain of seven towers, on isolated mountain-tops; and in each of these towers sat continually a priest of Satan, who by “broadcasting” occult vibrations controlled the destinies of the world for evil”

Fleshy Pin Cushion

I like the way your flesh caresses the pale old moon.

It’s like a sacrifice unfolding before the scene. Warm and red like the taste of a knife’s edge,

Black and blue, fleshly little pin cushion, running in the night’s beautiful, lustful hue.

Red Blues II

Here comes life, a gift of disappointment beyond measure.

Why won’t you meet The One true life, halfway in the black circle yonder?

The One of cold nocturnal embrace and secrets forever under?

Understand that a vortex of becoming is forever, timeless and primordial.

Red Blues

When life is, as always, a disappointment beyond measure.

Why won’t you meet The One true life, halfway in the circle?

The One of night and secrets forever idle?

Come embrace The Creation, The timeless and primordial. Forever untamed.

AHD II

Well then.

Did you Meet one halfway in the circle?

The One of night and secrets forever idle?

Or did you just fade in the path, where you asphyxiate and dangle?

Southern Heat Wind

Warm zephyr, lustful night – hardens in bound barks

Pale night caresses the southern breeze – cold and throbbing

I see thine longing for execution

O Mirror, Mirror on The Fall

Looking back at one’s past mumbling and rants, it becomes clear how much spiritual confusion and degeneration has taken place, instead of a fierce enlightenment. Trite, mediocre and anxiety driven, a spite on the true guidance path of the elders.

Khuran-barao, natas-sealb

Be cleansed shall one be of impurities – shattered glass, broken vision

Khuran-barao, natas-sealb

Aberr-rerakh Abra-Had-Dabra

Kadum-Dabra

Symphony

The sound of life trickling away is a most exquisite symphony. Not unlike the sweeping coldness of the Medieval chants or the masterpieces of the classical fugues. The chance to listen to such heavenly, organic tone is a beauty worth every risk taking.

Mourning is the forlorn poison of contemplation and weeping. None of such expressions are required, once one accepts the purity of chaos, whence confusion and bewilderment are rendered as meaningless as  a prayer before the storm.

Dice The Roll

Sitting in his smile, once, one remembers the warm laughter and lap of a mystery to behold.

Somewhere out there, a new mystery is silence in the brewing of the dark corners, where the rolls are diced and lives are counted.

Dirty

I dirty you so much when it’s love…..

Lick your night clean in the silky, sweaty toes

AVAUNT THEE!

The Stars grow dim in their places, and the Moon pales before me, as though a Veil were blown across its flame. Dog-faces demons approach the circumference of my sanctuary.

Strange lines appear carved on my door and walls, and the light from the Windows grows increasing dim.

A wind has risen. The Dark Waters stir.