Poetry
- Soror O
- Posts: 416
- Joined: Wed Sep 19, 2018 6:15 pm
Re: Poetry
Kali my lover!
Rip the flesh off my humble body
resolve in me
bleed in me, bleed through me
boil me in your dark nectar
I'm but a suckling in your holy bosom
Oh, Mother of All Mothers,
the unborn labourer
I don't need grace!
I have my tonque on your tit
Rip the flesh off my humble body
resolve in me
bleed in me, bleed through me
boil me in your dark nectar
I'm but a suckling in your holy bosom
Oh, Mother of All Mothers,
the unborn labourer
I don't need grace!
I have my tonque on your tit
If you want to reborn, let yourself die.
- Smaragd
- Posts: 1120
- Joined: Thu Jan 09, 2014 4:27 am
Re: Poetry
Needless to say: superb words, Ave.
"Would to God that all the Lord's people were Prophets”, Numbers 11:29 as echoed by William Blake
- Soror O
- Posts: 416
- Joined: Wed Sep 19, 2018 6:15 pm
Re: Poetry
Inspired by the conversation in the Finnish side (in Runoutta topic).
Gently Raped by Satan
You show me there really is no profanity
By uniting the cord between two worlds
From the heights of the sacred
You plunge me into the world
Television, radio, social media
It makes me want to puke
By covering me in worldliness
You cut to the core of my being
Gently raped by Satan
Solipsistic escapism destroyed
Gently raped by Satan
The world is again and again introduced
Why, oh why, was the world created
For perfection requires no creation
As soon as something is realized
The merry go 'round continues
Unity in seeming multiplicity
Fused but not confused
Sacredness in apparent profanity
Coalescence of spirit and matter
Horror unimaginable
This world is the only hell
Experiencing that which should not be
The world is an appearance for those who can see
This seems to be your way
Of showing me the path
Beyond the dualistic experience
God and devil join hands
Gently raped by Satan
Union of the opposites
Gently raped by Satan
Immanent transcedence found
Gently Raped by Satan
You show me there really is no profanity
By uniting the cord between two worlds
From the heights of the sacred
You plunge me into the world
Television, radio, social media
It makes me want to puke
By covering me in worldliness
You cut to the core of my being
Gently raped by Satan
Solipsistic escapism destroyed
Gently raped by Satan
The world is again and again introduced
Why, oh why, was the world created
For perfection requires no creation
As soon as something is realized
The merry go 'round continues
Unity in seeming multiplicity
Fused but not confused
Sacredness in apparent profanity
Coalescence of spirit and matter
Horror unimaginable
This world is the only hell
Experiencing that which should not be
The world is an appearance for those who can see
This seems to be your way
Of showing me the path
Beyond the dualistic experience
God and devil join hands
Gently raped by Satan
Union of the opposites
Gently raped by Satan
Immanent transcedence found
- Polyhymnia
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Mon Feb 18, 2019 6:20 pm
Re: Poetry
Oh, the images your poem brought to my mind's eye, Ave. Beautiful.
And Boreas, I very much identify with your words. "From the heights of the sacred you plunge me into the world."
Thank you both for sharing.
And Boreas, I very much identify with your words. "From the heights of the sacred you plunge me into the world."
Thank you both for sharing.
"Limited love asks for possession of the beloved, but the unlimited asks only for itself." -Kahlil Gibran
- Polyhymnia
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Mon Feb 18, 2019 6:20 pm
Re: Poetry
I'm very shy about my poetry, but in reading Boreas' Gently Raped by Satan, it brought to mind this poem I wrote which is my interpretation of struggling with the flesh, and the union of the astral body with it.
After the night we met I couldn't sleep for twenty-seven days
Your memory painting shadows in most intimate of ways
To crawl along the pathways of my every train of thought
Back and forth and back again with sex that can't be bought
O, Divine Light, my mistress at the bottom of the well
For whom my body aches to touch
To taste
To feel
To smell
Au revoir
Bonne nuit
Baisons, baisons, baisons
Je serai dans la chambre de mon maitre
Where I hate to sleep alone
After the night we met I couldn't sleep for twenty-seven days
Your memory painting shadows in most intimate of ways
To crawl along the pathways of my every train of thought
Back and forth and back again with sex that can't be bought
O, Divine Light, my mistress at the bottom of the well
For whom my body aches to touch
To taste
To feel
To smell
Au revoir
Bonne nuit
Baisons, baisons, baisons
Je serai dans la chambre de mon maitre
Where I hate to sleep alone
"Limited love asks for possession of the beloved, but the unlimited asks only for itself." -Kahlil Gibran
Re: Poetry
Thanks Polyhymnia! The poem was made in 10 meager minutes so it's not perfect but I guess it'll suffice for now. There are already some things I'd change in it.
I don't understand French (?) so I couldn't make any sense from the last paragraph of your beautiful poem.
The theme of profanity continued to inspire me for more poetry.
Epitome of Profanity
Jehovistic antigod in the center of every room
Newspaper tabloids in the corner of every street
Computer screen telling me what to believe
Our religion is made to sell
Religion – an opium for the masses?
I would opt for radio and politics
Fariseans in the temple of God
Self-styled neo-conservatives in the House of Lords
Scientism is the new name of God
Our Lord of Hosts is a secular tyrant
Technological progress as our credo
We reach for the stars with our space rocket
Based on existential facts
Humanity is a cancer
From this you can be sure
We are the cure
Our spirituality a super market
You can buy what you afford
Sell your soul to McWorld
We all live in America
Celebrities and monarchs
All together holding tennis rackets and tequilas
Factory farming and engines of war
What is there to worry in a ready-made world
Animal ideal and a catastrophic cresendo
Towards an Omega point we heed
Nudists join in masses as we take to the beach
Collectivized cattle is what we breed
Inject the poison
It is ready to use
In a consumer world
We accept no cure
I don't understand French (?) so I couldn't make any sense from the last paragraph of your beautiful poem.
The theme of profanity continued to inspire me for more poetry.
Epitome of Profanity
Jehovistic antigod in the center of every room
Newspaper tabloids in the corner of every street
Computer screen telling me what to believe
Our religion is made to sell
Religion – an opium for the masses?
I would opt for radio and politics
Fariseans in the temple of God
Self-styled neo-conservatives in the House of Lords
Scientism is the new name of God
Our Lord of Hosts is a secular tyrant
Technological progress as our credo
We reach for the stars with our space rocket
Based on existential facts
Humanity is a cancer
From this you can be sure
We are the cure
Our spirituality a super market
You can buy what you afford
Sell your soul to McWorld
We all live in America
Celebrities and monarchs
All together holding tennis rackets and tequilas
Factory farming and engines of war
What is there to worry in a ready-made world
Animal ideal and a catastrophic cresendo
Towards an Omega point we heed
Nudists join in masses as we take to the beach
Collectivized cattle is what we breed
Inject the poison
It is ready to use
In a consumer world
We accept no cure
Re: Poetry
Nota bene: I felt that watchful eye sting me in some choice of words in the last poem, and already tried to change my poor choice of words to a more neutral one; I meant "self-styled neo-cons" not as a political statement to this or that direction, only as a symbol for western hubris and to refer in general to those who use religion as a vehicle for politics, so I hope it will be read in an a(nti)-political way like it was meant.
Re: Poetry
I realized that some other lines in that last poem can also be horribly misunderstood because the narrator changes inside the narrative. For example that I would think humans as "collectivised cattle" when it was said from the mouth of an anti-human ideologue or as a form of totalitarian thought that sees humans basically as regimented cattle to be sacrificed
in the altar of the "epitome of profanity".
in the altar of the "epitome of profanity".
- Polyhymnia
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Mon Feb 18, 2019 6:20 pm
Re: Poetry
If it helps assuage your mind a bit, it didn't read as political to me at all. Again, much to be pulled from this one for me. Thank you again for sharing.
As for the french bit, it translates to a dom/sub relationship between slave and master. Baisons being a crude sexual catcall. It's meant to depict the struggle I feel within the flesh.
As for the french bit, it translates to a dom/sub relationship between slave and master. Baisons being a crude sexual catcall. It's meant to depict the struggle I feel within the flesh.
"Limited love asks for possession of the beloved, but the unlimited asks only for itself." -Kahlil Gibran