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.

A Ritual Assignation

Alison-Blickle
Alison-Blickle

You’re looking out of the window
seeing all the opportunities spread
before you like a heavenly banquet
and you’re wondering whether
to dare and make that leap.
Well do you believe in what I say?
Have you faith in my vision?
Will you be ready intime
for our long delayed assignation
to give yourself completely
Over to the dream I dreamt for you?
Falling is such bliss, those seconds
Of recall, clarity, then impact.

You’re trembling like a fine-veined
leaf in a lashing storm, come,
no need to be nervous though
it does initially add to the frisson.
Still I understand your concern,
you’re unsure whether I will be
cruel, tender, or even distracted.
You gather from some of my actions
that I can be wanton and crude
or maybe wayward and perverse.
However if you want the exaltation,
(and I know that’s your desire,
I’ve been around, I know
a thing or two and you wouldn’t
be the first that I have turned
inside out and tied up in knots)
then you must relax and let
what is going to happen, happen;
whether I serve you like royalty
or you find freedom in sacrifice,
the ecstasy of divine debasement,
a savage joy in effacing and erasing
the burdensome wearying self.
I will let you play your games
until it is time for the ritual
to commence in earnest,
revealing the solemn mystery,
contained in your unveiled body;
both the map and the territory:
the exit and the gateway.

Pagan Poetry

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Daria Endresen-2011

The self portraits and the eerie frozen landscapes, empty apart from figures engaged in disturbing occult ceremonies, of Norwegian photographer and digital artist Daria Endresen combine various elements from Nordic mythology, fetishism, Surrealism and a particularly Northern form of romanticism to skillfully evoke a mysterious Gothic, ritualistic dreamworld.

In this cold, isolated, sinister fairy-tale like realm she has managed to capture the essence of a pagan poetry long since disappeared from the world.

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U & I

Heinz Hajek-Halke
Heinz Hajek-Halke

The words that I say don’t mean a thing,
Except for their inherent suggestiveness.
They are an attempt at hypnotizing you,
My intention is to bewitch and enthral
Before slowly, ever so slowly, then finally,
Seducing you in just such a fashion.
Understanding will elude you for now,
Only long afterwards can you begin
To understand that rapture, this bliss,
The rupture and the event changing
Everything and consuming the parts
That formerly constituted the whole;
The heavenly body bruised and bitten,
Your lunar skin a palimpsest upon
Which I have scrawled in marker
Every wayward impulsive craving
And deepest innermost desiring:
Across your most intimate territories,
Swell of breast, slope of thigh I write
The text of my tyrannical longings
To feel your heart beat fast, faster
Suffusing every inch of you with heat
Because I want to not only feel
The flame within you burn brightly,
I want to see, hear, taste and smell
Your essence, then I may possess all;
Your soul
Mutual absorption
Indivisible diversity
2 become 1
U & I.

The words that I say don’t mean a thing,
Except for their ritualistic significance.
They are an attempt at an invocation,
My intention is to enthral and bewitch,
Make desire a reality through the will.

Rituals

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Fabian Marti-Komposition fur eine Rhombus-2008
While researching the rather sinister figure of Georges Bataille, the author of the infamous surrealist pornographic novel The Story of the Eye, originator of the theory of base materialism and the leading light of the journal Documents (see Dreams of Desire 13 (Serene Beauty) which was the home for several major expelled and dissident Surrealists, I chanced upon the above stunning and intriguing photographic study Komposition fur eine Rhombus (Composition for a Rhombus).

Fabian Marti is a Zurich based artist and Komposition fur eine Rhombus was part of an exhibition in Bordeaux on Secret Societies and the Occult in modern and contemporary art. Apart from its purely formal considerations it certainly possesses a heavy, ritualistic feel that Bataille, himself the founder of the secret society Acephale, would have appreciated. It also brings to mind Maya Deren’s (with a little help from Marcel Duchamp) experimental film The Witch’s Cradle (see Alpha & Omega).