"astarte" poems
SLOWLY the Moon her banderoles of light
Unfurls upon the sky; her fingers drip
Pale, silvery tides; her armoured warriors
Leave Day's bright tents of azure and of gold,
Wherein they hid them, and in silence flock
Upon the solemn battlefield of Night
To try great issues with the blind old king,
The Titan Darkness, who great Pharoah fought
With groping hands, and conquered for a span.
The starry hosts with silver lances *****
The scarlet fringes of the tents of Day,
And turn their crystal shields upon their *******
And point their radiant lances, and so wait
The stirring of the giant in his caves.
The solitary hills send long, sad sighs
As the blind Titan grasps their locks of pine
And trembling larch to drag him toward the sky,
That his wild-seeking hands may clutch the Moon
From her war-chariot, scythed and wheeled with light,
Crush bright-mailed stars, and so, a sightless king,
Reign in black desolation! Low-set vales
Weep under the black hollow of his foot,
While sobs the sea beneath his lashing hair
Of rolling mists, which, strong as iron cords,
Twine round tall masts and drag them to the reefs.
Swifter rolls up Astarte's light-scythed car;
Dense rise the jewelled lances, groves of light;
Red flouts Mars' banner in the voiceless war
(The mightiest combat is the tongueless one);
The silvery dartings of the lances *****
His fingers from the mountains, catch his locks
And toss them in black fragments to the winds,
Pierce the vast hollow of his misty foot,
Level their diamond tips against his breast,
And force him down to lair within his pit
And thro' its chinks ****** down his groping hands
To quicken Hell with horror-for the strength
That is not of the Heavens is of Hell.
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I dwelt alone
In a world of moan,
And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride—
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
Ah, less—less bright
The stars of the night
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
And never a flake
That the vapor can make
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie’s most unregarded curl—
Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie’s most humble and careless
curl.
Now Doubt—now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
And all day long
Shines, bright and strong,
Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye—
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
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The conjugate of idolatry,
The alchemy of flame,
The Astarte of pure harlotry-
And nomenclature'd name.
The lode-stone of sly coquetry,
The compass-stone of hearth,
The balanced stoichiometry-
Broken waters of birth.
The Vestal of impurity,
The perfidy of shame-
My blood in you runs truer red;
This craving never tames.
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 8:03 PM UTC
love is a
state of mind
an emotion
sometimes ephemeral
sometimes steadfast
its source
an archetype
formless
it is not a relationship
although it may exist
in a relationship
or only
in a moment
like a spark in the dark
it is a function of imagination
as is empathy
it is magical thinking
*** may be an instrument of love
or a powerful healing balm
in and of it self
a profound therapy
and seen as an act of
divine grace
the ancients knew this
but unlike them
we have taken
sacred prostitutes
from ancient temples
vessels of the
goddess eroticism
Astarte of the Canaanites
Áine of the Celts
Min of the Egyptians
Aphrodite of the Greeks
Kama of the Hindus
Inanna of the Mesopotamians
and transformed them into demons
by subjugation to the depths of our subconscious
the archetypal female was replaced
by the neutered holy ghost
the patriarchal symbolic genital mutilation of women
a gift of horrors by Romes Council of Nicea
crippling values written in stone
frigidity guilts child
an abysmal morality
a theft by
kleptomaniacs of freedoms desire
for two millennium
vessels of the goddess
have been transmuted into a profanity
inflicting
a cold homicide on
****** freedom
forcing the abandonment
of a most essential constituent of sanity
the miraculous repair and revitalization
of the soul
through passions physical touch
sensual love
and the release of pent up desire
and left in its place
a harness of deprivation
an expression of a regressive culture
that promotes
a barren terrain
between
emotional ****** insecurity
and the monotony of monogamy
I am a voice of Thelema for the coming Aeon of Horus
LOVE IS ALL LOVE UNDER WILL
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
What slave have I become!
Embracing servitude,
Desire no rebellion,
Please! O, my will! Succumb!
To her, with gratitude,
Besides Beauty, there’s none.
I vow to cede control,
No action beyond me,
Beauty is my master!
I’ve no need for my soul,
Beauty, I cede to thee
Fortune or disaster!
Liberty is worthless!
My eyes must stir the heart!
Why live, and not seek you?
I publicly confess,
To Beauty, to Astarte,
You command all I do.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 9:50 PM UTC
The coldness of my unleashed disinhibitions have gracefully succumbed to the wisdom of cosmological forces, despite my ravenous salivations for all that is vehemently forbidden.
As I bark inside the relief of this solitary pound of articulated and socialised liberty, like an expression of abstract artistry within an ethical mudslide; I continue to teeter upon geographical tightropes which span unforgiving terrains across the ancient divides of propriety, where the baron plains of deuterocanonical origin are populated by restless spirits with gnashing teeth.
So, if they could ever be personified, I could easily butcher a myriad of depravities which tangibly characterise my inner Astarte and Ishtar demons – although, such an event would have to occur after we have engaged in a myriad of abominations where raunchy and indulgent copulations shamefully expose our brazen wantonness to animalistic inclinations.
Never offer to tie me down.
Restriction diametrically opposes my socially skilled yet nomadic being, as it sojourns across a psychedelic array of vibrant gardens, and weaves through present pathways which are timeless in their being.
It just is.
That is the essence of ontology.
Can we ever effectively contemplate the philosophies of predetermination and predestination?
As I am not dichotomous in my thinking, there is a legitimate place for being an omnivore within the walls of our societal fabric.
Although I radically accept that of which I do not approve, the psychology of ambivalence has led me to raise questions around the validity of horticulture.
My clock has melted down the flamboyance of those multicolored mountainsides of being and nothingness.
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
I am no
warmonger
Yet, today,
I am ready
for battle
Hand above brow
searching the mountains
for enemies,
I hold my staff
My sword in tow
My face upturned
To the burning snow
Yes, I am
A warrioress
In her half-polished armor
Some parts shiny, as if new
others marked, beat up
dented, burnt
a rough-hewn tribute
to the steely trials
I've been through
War goddesses
Sekhmet and Athena
Freyja, Astarte
By my side
As I ready my stallion
For the dangerous ride
"We are lucky,"
I whisper, in her beautiful ear
"That time is on our side...
No time for fear"
I am my own commander
In this field of combat
I only have my heart
To wear on my sleeve
I will take my victory
In my vulnerability
Before I close the
doors again
So all of those
non-desireable factors
Better not
upset me
I have always come in peace
I am a gentle soul
But all of this….
Now the tables have turned.
I am ready to yell
My battle-cry
Arms posed for arrow strike
Hair streaming wild
Eyes with the focus
Of a hawk
Watch out.
Take heed.
For I have learned
That good girls
Fight back.
No need to
Senselessly
Bleed
No need to take
unnecessary flack
I have had enough
Of apologies
Enough lowering my brow
I am taking Life
Into my own hands
And my time
To live is
Now
Stand back
Here I come
Move aside
Before I
come
undone
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
I'm all alone
Within my soul I groan --
With a star-tide inside a stagnant sea;
Far till a maiden with the flushes of love there came Mèlanie:
Far till a maiden with the gushes of Lament's dove be name Mèlanie:
Oh, dim grew light
From the astral night
As the radiant Utopian orbs rain
In Astarte's vain
Upon the tinted pearling moon
Twinkling in our mystic noon, --
Whereas I touched with the lips of my own to Mèlanie:
Whereas I kiss Death's eclipse in the eyes alone of Mèlanie:
As of right now,
Be never to vow --
'Cause her winged-fabric soul
With the fiery pinion-foul,
May we burn naked ablaze in a fountain hole
And forever be draining our blood together, I and Mèlanie:
Forever be bound to the wrist and chain together, I and my Mèlanie:
Jun 28, 2011
Jun 28, 2011 at 12:49 PM UTC
awesome apothecary addressed as Agamemnon
alleviates anxiety, and alimentary aggravation
anodyne appeasement arrests ailment
amphetamines acquaintanceship assuages
agonizing aches also advocates amorousness
assiduously activating admiration
aggressive attacks assault air afoul
affable affinity affects adumbration
anatomical accidental addiction attested as academic,
although afterward abnegation absolutely arduous,
affianced attired apparently as an anomaly
Ares and Abyssinian Astarte admixture
acquiescence affliction affected adroitly,
and abruptly abends accessible
altruistic alms axed
albeit admonishing, alluding,
and attributing authored
autonomous anonymous adroit arriviste agents
accompanying as accomplished accomplices
accredited ace advertisers
applaud ascendent assaults amidst agonizing appeals
acting all acrimoniously apropos
avowedly ardently, and antagonistically, agitating
appositely advocating ancillary assistance
addict adrift afloat anchors away
assails along, among, and an alias archenemy -
adorned abominable assassin alters ambition
adroitly, aggressively, absolutely
addict announces asseveration
against avid admonishment
alarmingly annulling authentic affiliation
anew anonymous ability acclaims alignment
aegis actually adversarial abetting attrition appetite
acceleration ascendent after aplenty anesthetization
additionally activating arced analogous arrow
advancing added abdominal and arterial agony
abject ambivalence arrests accomplishments attainable
any artistic avocation absconded
asper auditorial approbation, animadversion
artificial aggrandizement abrogates astuteness
appropriate adjudication affronted
alternative afforded amnesty about acing audioslave
as aerosmith ambition assumes arriviste affectation
already appalling alacrity awakens amendment
although Awol administration adamant
acrimonious affront agonizingly attributable
announces another afterworld
apparent ailing apparition
ardent allegiance asking anyone appreciable affix
apathy abounds attending apriorism allotment.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
He stares at cars,
Pleading for them to run him down.
The alcohol makes his lips bleed.
End it
He is covered in scars,
End it
Screaming without a sound,
End it
When will it stop?
Byron's words echo,
"Her faults were mine-
her virtues were her own"
Please, no more, please
The back of his eyes
Play the story.
Astarte, Aphrodite
Arches her back,
Drenched in sweat.
He feels at the scares she left on his neck.
Snap back, reality slowly lowers
The knife into his rib.
Lightless, lifeless.
God, is this all there is?
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
do you know why i cant take my eyes off of you
because i know deep down inside
your so hot
you must be to good for me
i learned a long time ago
not to love people like you
even though
i
oh so do
your countenance is a weapon
maybe if i didn't love you so much
you would love me more
i pretend not to notice you
can you see me not noticing
can you see me smiling and talking
to others
like i dont care if your so dam charming
are you getting jealous
i hope you dont see me wanting you so desperately
noticing you
are you noticing me
but i didnt see you look over this way
whats the hold up?
guess im not your cup of tea
or
i bet your crafty
playing games
maybe
ill do a tarot reading
what NO
two of cups ?
NO
lovers ?
dammm
maybe the i Ching
what
darkening of the light ?
ok,
the psychic hot line
ouch
seventy dollars
and the psychic is just getting some vibrations
one hundred and fifty more and counting
and we still haven't got to the last card
how about candle magic
wow
new candles from pan pipes
burning
red of lust
blue for Jovian expansion
green for goddess Venus
queen of loves trove
*thee i invoke Dianna
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee*
im shaking inside
waiting
and running from you
are you watching me run from you
are you asking your self why i run
does it make you want to run after me
i read a book on how to get you to fall in love with me
it says
imagine my head is a magnet
and your metal
and when i press the magic
imaginary button
your instantly magnetized
falling helplessly my way
like charged particles
**** over heals
yet every time you pass me
my head bends and twists uncontrollably towards you
finding myself standing so close
not knowing how i got there
my heart is murdering my mind
ive been talking to myself about you
like a self flushing toilet
that never stops
*thee i invoke Dianna
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee
thee i invoke Aphrodite
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee
thee i invoke Astarte
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee
for i am the lord god
and every spell and scourge
shall be obedient unto me
till hell freezes over
so mote it be
for the star of six is fixed in stone
tee hee hee*
i better go over and talk to you now
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 7:20 PM UTC