In Nomine Babalon, L

L

I drink from Your cup ‘til my very last breath;

Your sting, like the scorpion, bringing sweet death.

On my tomb shall Your seal be written upon

I raise up the cup and adore Babalon!

In Nomine Babalon: 156 Adorations to the Scarlet Goddess

The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition. If you would like to submit your work for consideration as part of the Arts and Letters pool, contact the librarian.

“‘Resolve all question by a moonward tread. Follow the moon!’ Even so the king had said. My thought had thanked him for the generous breath Wherewith he warned us: for delay were death. And now, too late! no moon is overhead— Some other meaning in the words he saith? Or, am I tricked in such a little snare?”

The Nameless Quest in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

“‘Resolve all question by a moonward tread.
Follow the moon!’ Even so the king had said.
My thought had thanked him for the generous breath
Wherewith he warned us: for delay were death.
And now, too late! no moon is overhead—
Some other meaning in the words he saith?
Or, am I tricked in such a little snare?” [via]

"Let the ripe kisses of your thirsty throats And beating blossoms of your breath, and flowers Of swart illimitable hair that floats Vague and caressing, and the amorous powers Of your unceasing hours, The rich hot fragrance of your dewy skins, The eyes that yearn, the breasts that bleed, the thighs That cling and cluster to these infinite sins, Forget the earthlier pleasures of the prize, And raise diviner sighs; Cling to the white and bloody feet that hang, And drink the purple of a God’s pure side; With your wild hair assuage His deadliest pang, And on His broken bosom still abide His virginal white bride."

The Lesbian Hell in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"Let the ripe kisses of your thirsty throats
And beating blossoms of your breath, and flowers
Of swart illimitable hair that floats
Vague and caressing, and the amorous powers
Of your unceasing hours,
The rich hot fragrance of your dewy skins,
The eyes that yearn, the breasts that bleed, the thighs
That cling and cluster to these infinite sins,
Forget the earthlier pleasures of the prize,
And raise diviner sighs;
Cling to the white and bloody feet that hang,
And drink the purple of a God’s pure side;
With your wild hair assuage His deadliest pang,
And on His broken bosom still abide
His virginal white bride.” [via]

"Rise, Phantom disanointed, and proclaim Thine own destruction, and the sleepy death Of those material essences that flame A little moment for a little breath, The love that perisheth!"

The Lesbian Hell in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"Rise, Phantom disanointed, and proclaim
Thine own destruction, and the sleepy death
Of those material essences that flame
A little moment for a little breath,
The love that perisheth!” [via]

"O desecrated lovers! O divine Passionate martyrs, virgin unto death! O kissing daughters of the unfed brine! O sisters of the west wind’s pitiful breath, There is One that pitieth!"

The Lesbian Hell in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"O desecrated lovers! O divine
Passionate martyrs, virgin unto death!
O kissing daughters of the unfed brine!
O sisters of the west wind’s pitiful breath,
There is One that pitieth!” [via]

"Sleep there, nor know me gone: sleep there And never wake, although God’s breath Catch thee at midmost of the prayer Of sleep—that so dream turns to death! Pass, be no more! The beckoning dawn Woos the white ocean: I must go Wither my soul’s desire is drawn. Whither? I know not. Even so."

To Laura in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"Sleep there, nor know me gone: sleep there
And never wake, although God’s breath
Catch thee at midmost of the prayer
Of sleep—that so dream turns to death!
Pass, be no more! The beckoning dawn
Woos the white ocean: I must go
Wither my soul’s desire is drawn.
Whither? I know not. Even so.” [via]

"Slow and divine thy gentle breath Woos my warm throat: my spirit flies Beyond the iron walls of death, And seeks strange portals, pale and wise."

To Laura in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"Slow and divine thy gentle breath
Woos my warm throat: my spirit flies
Beyond the iron walls of death,
And seeks strange portals, pale and wise.” [via]

"Then, one immaculate divinest whole, Plunge, fire, within all fire, dive far to death; Till, like king Satan’s sympathetic breath, Burn on us as a voice from far above Strange nameless elements of fire and love; And we, one mouth to kiss, one soul to lure, For ever, wedded, one, divine, endure Far from sun, sea, and spring from love or light, Imbedded in impenetrable night; Deeper than ocean, higher than the sky, Vaster than petty loves that dream and die, Insatiate, angry, terrible for lust, Who shrivel God to adamantine dust By our fierce gaze upon him, who would strive Under our wrath, to flee away, to dive Into the deep recesses of his heaven."

All Night in White Stains by Aleister Crowley.

"Then, one immaculate divinest whole,
Plunge, fire, within all fire, dive far to death;
Till, like king Satan’s sympathetic breath,
Burn on us as a voice from far above
Strange nameless elements of fire and love;
And we, one mouth to kiss, one soul to lure,
For ever, wedded, one, divine, endure
Far from sun, sea, and spring from love or light,
Imbedded in impenetrable night;
Deeper than ocean, higher than the sky,
Vaster than petty loves that dream and die,
Insatiate, angry, terrible for lust,
Who shrivel God to adamantine dust
By our fierce gaze upon him, who would strive
Under our wrath, to flee away, to dive
Into the deep recesses of his heaven.” [via]

"But raise no head; I know thee, breast and thigh, Lips, hair and eyes and mouth: I will not die But thou come with me o’er the gate of death. So, blood and body furious with breath That pants through foaming kisses, let us stay Gripped hard together to keep life away, Mouths drowned in murder, never satiate, Kissing away the hard decrees of Fate, Kissing insatiable in mad desire Kisses whose agony may never tire, Kissing the gates of hell, the sword of God, Each unto each a serpent or a rod, A well of wine and fire, each unto each, Whose lips are fain convulsively to reach A higher heaven, a deeper hell."

All Night in White Stains by Aleister Crowley.

"But raise no head; I know thee, breast and thigh,
Lips, hair and eyes and mouth: I will not die
But thou come with me o’er the gate of death.
So, blood and body furious with breath
That pants through foaming kisses, let us stay
Gripped hard together to keep life away,
Mouths drowned in murder, never satiate,
Kissing away the hard decrees of Fate,
Kissing insatiable in mad desire
Kisses whose agony may never tire,
Kissing the gates of hell, the sword of God,
Each unto each a serpent or a rod,
A well of wine and fire, each unto each,
Whose lips are fain convulsively to reach
A higher heaven, a deeper hell.” [via]