aleister crowley love poems

Stronger than sense, you are even here and now Are these all past? Confirm my troth with thee ! He also found time to be a ceremonial magician and an occasional mountaineer but his major project was to be the founding member of a new religious philosophy which he called Thelema. Aleister Crowley died in 1947 at the age of 72 in Hastings of a respiratory infection but he was, by then, a heroin addict. As a writer he was prolific, producing a great deal of work on the occult and ceremonial magic. The death of his father when the boy was 12 years old had such a profound effect on him that he turned away from conventional religion from then on. more », Hear me, Lord of the Stars!For thee I have worshipped everWith stains and sorrows and scars,With joyful, joyful endeavour.... more », Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad,when rosy limbs and sweat entwine;But rapture drowns the sense and self,the wine the drawer of the wine,... more », Forth flashed the serpent streak of steel,Consummate crown of man's device;Down crashed upon an immobileAnd brainless barrier of ice.... more », AN ATTACK ON BARBERCRAFT[Dedicated to George Cecil Jones]... more », Out of the night forth flamed a star -mine own!Now seventy light-years nearer as I urgeConstant my heart through the abyss unknown,Its glory my sole guide while space surge... more », [Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair]On the black night, beneath the winter moon,I clothed me in the limbs of Codia,... more », Out of the seething cauldron of my woes,Where sweets and salt and bitterness I flung; Where charmed music gathered from my tongue,And where I chained strange archipelagoes... more », Lo! — we parted. Yearned in a thousand melodies to enscroll SitOn my mouth, Leah, shit!Shit on me, slut!Creamy the curdsThat drip from your gut!Greasy the turds!Dribble your dungOn the tip of my tongue!Churn on me, Leah!Twist on your thighs!Smear diarrhoeaInto my eyes!Splutter out shitFrom the bottemless pit.Turn to me, chew itWith me, Leah, whore!Vomit it, spew itAnd lick it once more.We can make lustDrunk on disgust.Splay out your gut,Your ass hole, my lover!You buggering slut,I know where to shove her!There she goes, plumbUp the foul Bitch’s bum!Sackful of skinAnd bone, as I speakI’ll bugger your grinInto a shriek.Bugger you, slutBugger your gut!Wriggle, you hog!Wrench at the pin!Wrench at it, dragIt half out, suck it in!Scream, you hog dirt, you!I want it to hurt you!Beast-Lioness, squirtFrom your Cocksucker’s hole!Belch out the dirtFrom your Syphillis soul.Splutter foul wordsThrough your supper of turds!May the Devil our lord, yourSoul scribble overWith sayings of ordure!Call me your lover!Slave of the gutOf the arse of a slut!Call me your sewerOf spilth and snotYour fart-sniffer, chewerOf the shit in your slot.Call me that as you raveIn the rape of your slave.Fuck! Above whose tides stood our stability. While above all, true centre of our world, Was honied from your tiger-lily breast. — my darling, you would now be here! Where your sighs swing from rapture into rest In every possibility, still mine an impeccable machine, exactHe paces an inane and pointless pathTo glut brute appetites, his sole contentHow tedious were he fit to comprehendHimself! Come to my arms --- is it eve? By the Rose and the Cross I conjure; I constrain by the... more ». All night you have been unutterably mine, Be the true courage; either has its splendour. til you spend!Cunt! Let me go back to your last birthday. Do the woods whisper hush Is it the nightingale? more », IThe cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam.The vault yet blazes with the sun... more », Mother of Light, and the Gods! One incarnation, one descending dove, Lyric of Love to Leah by Aleister Crowley. Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Is Apollo awake? I am glad If by some chance its truth might be surprised, True source of light, our great love passion-pearled Crowley is fantastic! I could write verse, and you could play the fiddle, I lament. By this same love; a year of wealth and woe, As a young man he joined the esoteric Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and was so deeply involved in this way of life that he eventually formed his own religious commune in the small Sicilian town of Cefalù. How vainly sulphur tries to tarnish gold! The Holy Books of Thelema - some would suggest that contains the best examples of Crowley's poetry; in particular one might reference LiberLXV, Liber Cordis Cincti Serpente s.f. Gave all its life and splendour to the sea The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam. Full moon to-night; and six and twenty years Since my full moon first broke from angel spheres! His behaviour was seen by many as wicked – his bisexuality was a good example – but his attitude was ‘do as thou wilt’ and he refused to forsake those pleasures of life that many regarded as sinful. El Arabi! But each aspiring only to express We lay within the flood of crimson light From everlasting the eternal will. The first made holy and the last made sweet Is Diana reborn? Their heads, blind hates, deaf agonies of fear, One resurrection, one recurrent chord, And not a star but told him how love twines Why should I sing you these fantastic psalms Burn in thy brilliance, mine own!O Beautiful! A Birthday; Adela; An Oath; Arhan; At Bordj-an-Nus; At Sea; Athor and Asar; Au Bal; Ave Adonai; Boo to Buddha; Colophon; Dionysus; Dumb; Elegy; Happy Dust; Hymn to Lucifer; Hymn to Pan; Independence; La Gitana; Leah Sublime; Linoz Isidoz; Logos; Long Odds; Lyric of Love to Leah; On - On - Poet; Optimist; Pan to Artemis; Power; Prologue to Rodin in Rime; Thanatos Basileos; The Atheist God join again the ways that lie apart, I only hearThe sobbing murmur of the sea.... more », Come to my arms --- is it eve? I still love LaVey more, but Crowley has definately impacted my religion. more », I bring ye wine from above,From the vats of the storied sun;For every one of yer love,And life for every one.... more », As night hath stars, more rare than shipsIn ocean, faint from pole to pole,So all the wonder of her lipsHints her innavigable soul.... more », Thrill with lissome lust of the light,O man ! Inspirational Stories – Quotes – Proverbs. Then Easter, and the days of all delight! Of supreme silence and unbarred extent, show no pity !Those eyes that send such shiversInto my brain and spine : oh let themFlame like the ancient citySwallowed up by the sulphurous riversWhen men let angels fret them ! Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?Without its climax, death, what savour hathLife? Earn the grudged praise that never comes to meed, I lament. Make August sing the raptures of July? Created yet another universe. “Aug.” 10, 1911. Stately proceeded, mine not only so And bring the vessel of our love to port! In my own balcony that August night, Heedless of the hideous. Then In every tense, in every attitude, The Interpreter. El Arabi! Of ardour, but by image of my brow The fact that one and one do not make two. Crowley despised and rebelled against his family at every turn, even renaming himself 'Aleister' to avoid sharing the same first name as his father, who passed away when Crowley was 11. © Poems are the property of their respective owners. I still love LaVey more, but Crowley has definately impacted my religion. Malice — that you are wanted somewhere else? Famous Poets and Poems: Home | Poets | Poem of the Month | Poet of the Month | Top 50 Poems | Famous Quotes | Famous Love Poems All these being one, and that one being Love! How far below us all its fury rolled! Each longing a little, each a little long, Aleister Crowley died in 1947 at the age of 72 in Hastings of a respiratory infection but he was, by then, a heroin addict. Mother of my children, mistress of my life! (An Oath wrtitten during the Dawn Meditation), When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the, [Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair], As night hath stars, more rare than ships. more ». A year of triumph trampling through defeat, It was said that Crowley had put a curse on him for refusing to continue prescribing drugs to him. But what were magic if it could not give God’s sun lit noontide and his moon midnight, Joy, poverty, health, sickness — all one glow Came up to Paris, lived our sacrifice Inspirational Stories – Quotes – Proverbs. All night I have hung, a god, upon the cross; Phenomenal Woman, Still I Rise, The Road Not Taken, If You Forget Me, Dreams - The World's Poetry Archive 3 I was afraid, afraid to live my love, Afraid you played the serpent, I the dove, Afraid of what I know not. Arousing heaven and constraining hell. Earth’s dithyrambs and ocean’s oracles. Concerted malice of a million devils; — Full-sailed, while every other braver bark When all the time I have you in my arms? Aleister Crowley. And you are gone away — and how shall I And spirit too of that same excellence. A year of infinite love unwearying — Cruelty, cowardice, falsehood, broken pledges, Shun his baneful brilliance! https: // Aleister’s young life consisted of daily bible readings and a limited circle of friends, all of who had to be of the same faith as him. Io Pan .... more », Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?Without its climax, death, what savour hathLife? So fast that we can never part again. On - On - Poet. We cried, we quarrelled; all the rocks and trees

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