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Rene Magritte-Personal Values 1952
Rene Magritte-Personal Values 1952

Now that I am older the sound
Of the drumbeats grows louder,
Though the source becomes forever
Fainter, filtered by vague remorse,
Impossible longing for a home
That I have only visited in dreams.

I am a child again in these dreams
Attracted by the source of sound,
A woman calling me to go home:
At my silence she calls out louder
I stay still, filled with a sullen remorse
I could stand there like a stature forever.

If only we could build up bridges forever;
Break it on down like we do in dreams,
Then drop deeper without any remorse
To caverns filled with reverberating sound
Booming like my echoing heart louder
As it realises you can never go home.

For that is where the hatred lies, at home,
The source of afflictions that fester forever,
Over the years voices raised louder,
The only peace found in feverish dreams
With swirling fragments of whispered sound,
In the morning glare a cause of distinct remorse.

Though being human is cause enough for remorse,
For we are restless, searching for a lost home
And every time we speak or utter a sound
Lies the possibility of doing damage forever;
With no resolution to be found even in dreams
Drowning out soothing voices with noises louder.

The din and banging grows ever louder,
Deadening the heart with poisonous remorse,
Seeping even into the sanctuary of dreams:
So I pray for a solitary glimpse of a home
Where I can find comfort and rest forever
Show me a symbol, give me a sign or a sound

Quieter rather than louder, pointing to a reposeful home
Where I banish remorse, to which I say goodbye forever
And let wash over me dreams, that lull with a sea sound.

Divinatory Poems

Austin Osman Spare-Tarot-The Sun
Austin Osman Spare-Tarot-The Sun

1.
Strife is justice: perfect kiss, holy death,
golden ratio and mean, overflowing
cup filled with tears and other secretions
soon emptied however, drank to the last dregs
but still the thirst for love is not quenched.

2.
Wishing that the world was already burning,
all the better to build on the ruins
the man whose eyes blaze with the dying light
of a thousand million supernovas
tosses the match to start the conflagration.

3.
Like a character from an distant age
the chevalier cuts a tragic noble swath
captivating hearts and minds of all alike
but the attention means less than nothing
until that time amidst the crowds he sees

4.
You are the pearl, crowning perfection,
to possess you I desire ruination
I‘ll watch with delirious satisfaction
when you strike me with total destruction
for this pleasure is worth the damnation.

5.
It all adds up, the whole equals the sum
of its myriad variations and parts
you just have to stand at the right distance,
keep still, relax, the answer is apparent,
just will to dare to know the only Law.

Pornotopia

Brittany Markert-In Rooms-2015
Brittany Markert-In Rooms-2015

The couple I see
In the mirror angled
Just so
Reminds me of you and I
But as in some baroque phantasy
A hazy half remembered reverie
Of some dismal grey afternoon
It could be us
At some point in the past
Or maybe a tangential future
Or even right now
Just there

But though the faces I see
Resemble ours in every detail
And the bodies in motion
Seeking contact
Greater more intense unity
Are an accurate reflection
Of our writhing limbs
It is not us
For they have gone over
Broke on through to the other side
Into a pornotopia
Heard the call of the orgy
Answered panting and howling
Stepped into the circle naked
Submitted to the ritual
Endured the terrors of rebirth
Suckled on the sweetmeats
Of the pornocopia
Greedily drank
The darkest of red wines
Sated every sensation
Until asleep dream
Of daring new combinations
The wildest variations
Paroxysms of inventive carnality

Open your eyes
Do you see?
Come with me
Take me by the hand
Lets step on through
To meet our true selves.

Dialectics of Desire

Ithell Colquhoun
Ithell Colquhoun

If only the big combo
Could come together
Become fused, merging
Into something other:
A magic orderly, precise,
Science raggedy, unruly,
An art exquisite yet raw
To fashion a language
With the suppleness of silence:
What vantage this vista
Would provide with a view
To die for, to kill for,
Into the realm of the marvellous:
Causing old habits of thoughts
To be sloughed like so many snakes-skins,
We would construct clouds into castles
And turn castles into cumulus clouds:
We would be welcome in a world
Where the everyday so-and–such
Glows with the sheen of the miraculous
Where a glance, the merest touch,
Opens up opportunities,
With all the divine hazards,
And dream chances,
Of a new dialectics of desire.

Witches Brew

Alison Blickle
Alison Blickle

Let’s us drink and play a game
It might set us free
Matching and mixing
Till we’re maxed all tapped out
Spun around oozing sugar
The sickening unto death sweetness
Of invading all pervading lust
We will ache for all tomorrows
To come and then some
But it’s OK, it’s alright
Let it reign
An era of indolence
Till the waters rise
To wash it all away
Then its time to rise and shine
Start again fresh and clean
With newly laundered souls
And sparkling crystal eyes
A touch that thrills to the slightest tremor
In the nearest galaxy
And hear the rhythm section
Of the spheres and the stars
Shimmering points of light so tight
As they improvise upon creation
This is really some concoction
Drink to the depths this witches brew.