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Shiloh Harmitt Oct 2013
So, you've had gonorrhoea, taken LSD, got lost in Paris and slept with your brother's wife. And now you want to write, to cannonise the unspeakable shame that taunts you. Like breaking wind in a confined space you want attention. You like the vanity of writing, leaving traces of yourself against a tree trunk, the thrill of not knowing who might sniff you out. It must take a certain guile to resurrect the lives of others with no apology or footnote. Life is too short you say. I say: sod the lot who cares what you've got to say, writing is the ***** extension you have longed for.
Craig Dee Nov 2019
Born Clarendon Square, 1875

11th year, father and hero dies

Mother's moniker, The Great Beast

Carries proud 'til rest in peace



Scripture's words so clearly lies

One off the wrist and women's thighs

Such morals never suit The Beast

On original sin, so does he feast



Red light women, gonorrhoea

Inhale and hold, but have no fear

Bow to none beneath the sky

Affliction, addiction, getting high



Poetry, prose, philosophy, chess

Science, literature, quite the quest

Majestic Monch without a guide

Dispel the darkness deep inside?



A new Sunrise, The Golden Dawn

To most, The Beast is but a thorn

From all the hate, he does defend

"I shall endure until to the end"



A crashing bore, The Golden Dawn

Such petty games, reject them all

Traverse the world and left in awe

In India, sombre spirits soar



The Savage Mountain scrapes the sky

Never scaled yet still must try

Brash bravery, they do not lack

No savage spoils, men beaten back



Convenience ties Beast and Rose

Affection hankers hard to show

Rosa Mundi and Love Songs

One lake of molten joy, one pond



In Egypt, Prince invokes the Gods

Great Horus comes, the Equinox

Aiwass speaks, so Beast does score

A new Aeon, Book Of The Law



On Nepal's peak, his peers they die

Attempt descent beneath dark skies

For such a loss bears all the blame

To climbing clique, ne'er the same



With Godhead now is unionised

As hashish opens the Third Eye

Meagre means and thus provides

Tankerville's peace is bonafide



A∴ A∴ heart, see how it glows

Tree Of Life they seek to grow

A flower's bloom begins to fade

Whilst sadly withers in the shade



The Beast now pens The Book Of Lies

His Scarlet Woman within resides

And for *** Magic does devise

"Contra Naturam", come inside



World War One, it rakes the Earth

While Wilhelm is as Jesus birth

Did The Beast truly betray

A country that had held his sway?



Thelema Abbey, hear its call

Lewd libertine within these walls

Loveday discovers only death

Benito brings its final breath



To man, a prophet is declared

Thelema's message, for to spread

Magnum opus, now complete

Of France, fair punishment is mete?



High on Hell's Mouth, his heart it breaks

But both black ink and leap are fake

War once again now rakes the Earth

Will Blackshirts bond Thelema's church?



War service scorned by N.I.D.

The face behind the Victory V?

Olla: Sixty Years of Song

A final book, the last swan song



Hasting's last battle is now lost

The Great Beast feels the final frost

"A Black Mass", many tabloids cry

Cold ashes now in Hampton lie



Amoral man, your heart did sing

Black ballads of the blackest dreams

Listen and there's still the screams

Of Thelema's ghosts, it seems





Copyright © Craig Detheridge.

2015 - 2017.
This piece is based on the life of the infamous Aleister Crowley.
Born to a Christian family in 1875, he rejected their teachings and those of the bible, becoming a ceremonial magician and founder of The Church Of Thelema. Crowley was a prolific writer on many subjects such as philosophy, politics, and culture as well as Thelema. He was also a published poet and playwright and was an accomplished mountaineer.

Crowley was once described by tabloids of his time as "The Wickedest Man In The World".

It took me several weeks to complete this piece due to the research I carried out on Crowley. There are lines within the piece of which the meaning is not immediately obvious.
This piece has previously featured elsewhere on the net including my own site at https://originaldarkpoetry.wordpress.com/the-great-beast/
Simon Rudd Jun 2014
got at
gonorrhoea
go

play go

that Chinese board game called Go

US first strike 2016 planned for

Russia too

so says Russia Today
Yesterday is tomorrow

Ay the first meeting he loved her, and she loved him,
he was jealous of her flirtatious ways, and harsh words
were spoken. She left.
They met again a few years later he was more rounded
and accepted her little affairs, as she always came back
to him. For many years they were happy to the day
she contracted gonorrhoea which took a few weeks
to clear up and they continue their love life.
But it was a pretence they struggled to believe, it was
like a shadow of doom had cast an evil spell over them.
She took to drink and often smelt of gin in the morning
she couldn't sleep and drink late in the night.
One day she said she didn't love her anymore, she had
met a man who was like he liked to drink and dance.
Again she moved out, this time for good.
Because of their lifestyle, both fell on a hard time
and moved away to a town where no one knew them.
What he often remembers is when they were young
and he tried to jump from a wall to a flat roof and
she held out her arm to save him from falling.

— The End —