Die geheimen Tagebücher von einer verderbten Existenz

Behind these gates you will hear my thoughts screaming like nerves under the sun and feel my emotion laughing to the empty ether.
Welcome Dear Wanderer, make yourself at home.
The road is long and tortuous and I hope you enjoy yourself.

Fraternally Yours,
Poison Creeper

Wednesday, 30 September 2009

Colelcted Dance quotes

If their feet aren't in the right place, at least their hearts are.

Christian M. Chensvold, on novice swingers
Swing is so much more than a dance, it's a way of life. The music gets stuck in your mind and the dance is in your heart and the whole scene is engraved on your soul. You can fly.

Nicholas Hope
With so many bands it's about their ego. But we're just servants to the dancers; we wouldn't be anything without them."

Heather Ellison, of the Savoy Swingers
We should consider every day lost
in which we do not Dance at least once"

One must still have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star

If you can walk, you can dance.
If you can talk, you can sing."

A saying in Zimbabwe
Discourse on virtue and they pass by in droves,
whistle and dance the shimmy and you've got an audience.

About a year ago I took up line dancing. I got so into it I had to join a Self help group to stop. It's a TWO STEP program

Frederick J. Boenig Pres. Buckskin & Lace Event Planners
To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak

Derrick "Suwaima" Davis, Hopi/Chocktaw Indian
Nothing is more revealing than movement.

Martha Graham (1894-1991), U.S. dancer, choreographer. "The American Dance" (published in Modern Dance, ed. by Virginia Stewart, 1935).
To shake your rump is to be environmentally aware.

David Byrne (b. 1952), U.S. rock musician. Sleeve notes to his compilation of Brazilian Samba music, O Samba: Brazil Classics 2 (1989).
The girl who can't dance says the band can't play.

Yiddish Proverb.
The white youth of today have begun to react to the fact that the "American Way of Life" is a fossil of history. What do they care if their old baldheaded and crew-cut elders don't dig their caveman mops? They couldn't care less about the old, stiffassed honkies who don't like their new dances: Frug, Monkey, Jerk, Swim, Watusi. All they know is that it feels good to swing to way-out body-rhythms instead of dragassing across the dance floor like zombies to the dead beat of mind-smothered Mickey Mouse music.

Eldridge Cleaver (b. 1935), U.S. black leader, writer. Soul on Ice, "The White Race and Its Heroes" (1968).
To everything there is a season, ... and a time to dance;

Bible, Hebrew . Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.
To dance is to live....to live is to dance.

Heidi Groskreutz
Dance is the only art form where the artist is also the medium of expression.

Dancing is an AMAZING activity. You can go up to a gorgeous woman that you've never met before, spend three minutes touching her virtually anywhere on her body, and she THANKS you for it afterwards!

Mario Robau, Jr. at a workshop in Bethesda, MD Spring, 1991
Want to spend lots of time dancing with ladies? Impress them with how good they are!

Gerald Cosby
Dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire

source: unknown
"All the ills of mankind, all the tragic misfortunes that fill the history books, all the political blunders, all the failures of the great leaders have arisen merely from a lack of skill at dancing."

Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation or abstraction from life; it is life itself.

Henry Havelock Ellis, 1923: The Dance of Life
"No move is too tricky, no spin too excessive. For my partner."

John Hayes
"Lesser dancers stumble, better dancers syncopate"

"Women have to do everything that a man does, but backwards and in high heels!"

Ginger Rogers
"A good dancer has the posture that can say I have presence, and you are dirt. Especially when they forget to smile."

"The only good dancer is a dead dancer"

"Jitterbuggers would dance to windshield wipers if nothing else was available" Woody Herman(?) He apparently didn't like dancers very much; they didn't "respect" his music.

Dancers and musicians have always counted music differently. (There is a cute anectode about Stravinsky yelling at Nijinsky, "There is no 27 in my music!"...)

"If I can't dance to it, it's not my revolution."
or "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution."

Emma Goldman
"I would believe only in a God that knows how to Dance."

"Where's there's Swing, there is a way"

Jenny Redo

Lamia by John Keats

Part I
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
Before King Oberon?s bright diadem,
Sceptre, and mantle, clasp?d with dewy gem,
Frighted away the Dryads and the Fauns
From rushes green, and brakes, and cowslip?d lawns,
The ever-smitten Hermes empty left
His golden throne, bent warm on amorous theft:
From high Olympus had he stolen light,
On this side of Jove?s clouds, to escape the sight
Of his great summoner, and made retreat
Into a forest on the shores of Crete.
For somewhere in that sacred island dwelt
A nymph, to whom all hoofed Satyrs knelt;
At whose white feet the languid Tritons poured
Pearls, while on land they wither?d and adored.
Fast by the springs where she to bathe was wont,
And in those meads where sometime she might haunt,
Were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any Muse,
Though Fancy?s casket were unlock?d to choose.
Ah, what a world of love was at her feet!
So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat
Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,
That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,
Blush?d into roses ?mid his golden hair,
Fallen in jealous curls about his shoulders bare.
From vale to vale, from wood to wood, he flew,
Breathing upon the flowers his passion new,
And wound with many a river to its head,
To find where this sweet nymph prepar?d her secret bed:
In vain; the sweet nymph might nowhere be found,
And so he rested, on the lonely ground,
Pensive, and full of painful jealousies
Of the Wood-Gods, and even the very trees.
There as he stood, he heard a mournful voice,
Such as once heard, in gentle heart, destroys
All pain but pity: thus the lone voice spake:
?When from this wreathed tomb shall I awake!
?When move in a sweet body fit for life,
?And love, and pleasure, and the ruddy strife
?Of hearts and lips! Ah, miserable me!?
The God, dove-footed, glided silently
Round bush and tree, soft-brushing, in his speed,
The taller grasses and full-flowering weed,
Until he found a palpitating snake,
Bright, and cirque-couchant in a dusky brake.

She was a gordian shape of dazzling hue,
Vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue;
Striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard,
Eyed like a peacock, and all crimson barr?d;
And full of silver moons, that, as she breathed,
Dissolv?d, or brighter shone, or interwreathed
Their lustres with the gloomier tapestries?-
So rainbow-sided, touch?d with miseries,
She seem?d, at once, some penanced lady elf,
Some demon?s mistress, or the demon?s self.
Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire
Sprinkled with stars, like Ariadne?s tiar:
Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet!
She had a woman?s mouth with all its pearls complete:
And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there
But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair?
As Proserpine still weeps for her Sicilian air.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love?s sake,
And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop?d falcon ere he takes his prey.

?Fair Hermes, crown?d with feathers, fluttering light,
?I had a splendid dream of thee last night:
?I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold,
?Among the Gods, upon Olympus old,
?The only sad one; for thou didst not hear
?The soft, lute-finger?d Muses chaunting clear,
?Nor even Apollo when he sang alone,
?Deaf to his throbbing throat?s long, long melodious moan.
?I dreamt I saw thee, robed in purple flakes,
?Break amorous through the clouds, as morning breaks,
?And, swiftly as a bright Phoebean dart,
?Strike for the Cretan isle; and here thou art!
?Too gentle Hermes, hast thou found the maid??
Whereat the star of Lethe not delay?d
His rosy eloquence, and thus inquired:
?Thou smooth-lipp?d serpent, surely high inspired!
?Thou beauteous wreath, with melancholy eyes,
?Possess whatever bliss thou canst devise,
?Telling me only where my nymph is fled,?-
?Where she doth breathe!? ?Bright planet, thou hast said,?
Return?d the snake, ?but seal with oaths, fair God!?
?I swear,? said Hermes, ?by my serpent rod,
?And by thine eyes, and by thy starry crown!?
Light flew his earnest words, among the blossoms blown.
Then thus again the brilliance feminine:
?Too frail of heart! for this lost nymph of thine,
?Free as the air, invisibly, she strays
?About these thornless wilds; her pleasant days
?She tastes unseen; unseen her nimble feet
?Leave traces in the grass and flowers sweet;
?From weary tendrils, and bow?d branches green,
?She plucks the fruit unseen, she bathes unseen:
?And by my power is her beauty veil?d
?To keep it unaffronted, unassail?d
?By the love-glances of unlovely eyes,
?Of Satyrs, Fauns, and blear?d Silenus? sighs.
?Pale grew her immortality, for woe
?Of all these lovers, and she grieved so
?I took compassion on her, bade her steep
?Her hair in weird syrops, that would keep
?Her loveliness invisible, yet free
?To wander as she loves, in liberty.
?Thou shalt behold her, Hermes, thou alone,
?If thou wilt, as thou swearest, grant my boon!?
Then, once again, the charmed God began
An oath, and through the serpent?s ears it ran
Warm, tremulous, devout, psalterian.
Ravish?d, she lifted her Circean head,
Blush?d a live damask, and swift-lisping said,
?I was a woman, let me have once more
?A woman?s shape, and charming as before.
?I love a youth of Corinth?-O the bliss!
?Give me my woman?s form, and place me where he is.
?Stoop, Hermes, let me breathe upon thy brow,
?And thou shalt see thy sweet nymph even now.?
The God on half-shut feathers sank serene,
She breath?d upon his eyes, and swift was seen
Of both the guarded nymph near-smiling on the green.
It was no dream; or say a dream it was,
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass
Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
One warm, flush?d moment, hovering, it might seem
Dash?d by the wood-nymph?s beauty, so he burn?d;
Then, lighting on the printless verdure, turn?d
To the swoon?d serpent, and with languid arm,
Delicate, put to proof the lythe Caducean charm.
So done, upon the nymph his eyes he bent,
Full of adoring tears and blandishment,
And towards her stept: she, like a moon in wane,
Faded before him, cower?d, nor could restrain
Her fearful sobs, self-folding like a flower
That faints into itself at evening hour:
But the God fostering her chilled hand,
She felt the warmth, her eyelids open?d bland,
And, like new flowers at morning song of bees,
Bloom?d, and gave up her honey to the lees.
Into the green-recessed woods they flew;
Nor grew they pale, as mortal lovers do.

Left to herself, the serpent now began
To change; her elfin blood in madness ran,
Her mouth foam?d, and the grass, therewith besprent,
Wither?d at dew so sweet and virulent;
Her eyes in torture fix?d, and anguish drear,
Hot, glaz?d, and wide, with lid-lashes all sear,
Flash?d phosphor and sharp sparks, without one cooling tear.
The colours all inflam?d throughout her train,
She writh?d about, convuls?d with scarlet pain:
A deep volcanian yellow took the place
Of all her milder-mooned body?s grace;
And, as the lava ravishes the mead,
Spoilt all her silver mail, and golden brede;
Made gloom of all her frecklings, streaks and bars,
Eclips?d her crescents, and lick?d up her stars:
So that, in moments few, she was undrest
Of all her sapphires, greens, and amethyst,
And rubious-argent: of all these bereft,
Nothing but pain and ugliness were left.
Still shone her crown; that vanish?d, also she
Melted and disappear?d as suddenly;
And in the air, her new voice luting soft,
Cried, ?Lycius! gentle Lycius!??-Borne aloft
With the bright mists about the mountains hoar
These words dissolv?d: Crete?s forests heard no more.

Whither fled Lamia, now a lady bright,
A full-born beauty new and exquisite?
She fled into that valley they pass o?er
Who go to Corinth from Cenchreas? shore;
And rested at the foot of those wild hills,
The rugged founts of the Peraean rills,
And of that other ridge whose barren back
Stretches, with all its mist and cloudy rack,
South-westward to Cleone. There she stood
About a young bird?s flutter from a wood,
Fair, on a sloping green of mossy tread,
By a clear pool, wherein she passioned
To see herself escap?d from so sore ills,
While her robes flaunted with the daffodils.

Ah, happy Lycius!?-for she was a maid
More beautiful than ever twisted braid,
Or sigh?d, or blush?d, or on spring-flowered lea
Spread a green kirtle to the minstrelsy:
A virgin purest lipp?d, yet in the lore
Of love deep learned to the red heart?s core:
Not one hour old, yet of sciential brain
To unperplex bliss from its neighbour pain;
Define their pettish limits, and estrange
Their points of contact, and swift counterchange;
Intrigue with the specious chaos, and dispart
Its most ambiguous atoms with sure art;
As though in Cupid?s college she had spent
Sweet days a lovely graduate, still unshent,
And kept his rosy terms in idle languishment.

Why this fair creature chose so fairily
By the wayside to linger, we shall see;
But first ?tis fit to tell how she could muse
And dream, when in the serpent prison-house,
Of all she list, strange or magnificent:
How, ever, where she will?d, her spirit went;
Whether to faint Elysium, or where
Down through tress-lifting waves the Nereids fair
Wind into Thetis? bower by many a pearly stair;
Or where God Bacchus drains his cups divine,
Stretch?d out, at ease, beneath a glutinous pine;
Or where in Pluto?s gardens palatine
Mulciber?s columns gleam in far piazzian line.
And sometimes into cities she would send
Her dream, with feast and rioting to blend;
And once, while among mortals dreaming thus,
She saw the young Corinthian Lycius
Charioting foremost in the envious race,
Like a young Jove with calm uneager face,
And fell into a swooning love of him.
Now on the moth-time of that evening dim
He would return that way, as well she knew,
To Corinth from the shore; for freshly blew
The eastern soft wind, and his galley now
Grated the quaystones with her brazen prow
In port Cenchreas, from Egina isle
Fresh anchor?d; whither he had been awhile
To sacrifice to Jove, whose temple there
Waits with high marble doors for blood and incense rare.
Jove heard his vows, and better?d his desire;
For by some freakful chance he made retire
From his companions, and set forth to walk,
Perhaps grown wearied of their Corinth talk:
Over the solitary hills he fared,
Thoughtless at first, but ere eve?s star appeared
His phantasy was lost, where reason fades,
In the calm?d twilight of Platonic shades.
Lamia beheld him coming, near, more near?-
Close to her passing, in indifference drear,
His silent sandals swept the mossy green;
So neighbour?d to him, and yet so unseen
She stood: he pass?d, shut up in mysteries,
His mind wrapp?d like his mantle, while her eyes
Follow?d his steps, and her neck regal white
Turn?d?-syllabling thus, ?Ah, Lycius bright,
?And will you leave me on the hills alone?
?Lycius, look back! and be some pity shown.?
He did; not with cold wonder fearingly,
But Orpheus-like at an Eurydice;
For so delicious were the words she sung,
It seem?d he had lov?d them a whole summer long:
And soon his eyes had drunk her beauty up,
Leaving no drop in the bewildering cup,
And still the cup was full,?-while he afraid
Lest she should vanish ere his lip had paid
Due adoration, thus began to adore;
Her soft look growing coy, she saw his chain so sure:
?Leave thee alone! Look back! Ah, Goddess, see
?Whether my eyes can ever turn from thee!
?For pity do not this sad heart belie?-
?Even as thou vanishest so I shall die.
?Stay! though a Naiad of the rivers, stay!
?To thy far wishes will thy streams obey:
?Stay! though the greenest woods be thy domain,
?Alone they can drink up the morning rain:
?Though a descended Pleiad, will not one
?Of thine harmonious sisters keep in tune
?Thy spheres, and as thy silver proxy shine?
?So sweetly to these ravish?d ears of mine
?Came thy sweet greeting, that if thou shouldst fade
?Thy memory will waste me to a shade:?-
?For pity do not melt!??-?If I should stay,?
Said Lamia, ?here, upon this floor of clay,
?And pain my steps upon these flowers too rough,
?What canst thou say or do of charm enough
?To dull the nice remembrance of my home?
?Thou canst not ask me with thee here to roam
?Over these hills and vales, where no joy is,?-
?Empty of immortality and bliss!
?Thou art a scholar, Lycius, and must know
?That finer spirits cannot breathe below
?In human climes, and live: Alas! poor youth,
?What taste of purer air hast thou to soothe
?My essence? What serener palaces,
?Where I may all my many senses please,
?And by mysterious sleights a hundred thirsts appease?
?It cannot be?-Adieu!? So said, she rose
Tiptoe with white arms spread. He, sick to lose
The amorous promise of her lone complain,
Swoon?d, murmuring of love, and pale with pain.
The cruel lady, without any show
Of sorrow for her tender favourite?s woe,
But rather, if her eyes could brighter be,
With brighter eyes and slow amenity,
Put her new lips to his, and gave afresh
The life she had so tangled in her mesh:
And as he from one trance was wakening
Into another, she began to sing,
Happy in beauty, life, and love, and every thing,
A song of love, too sweet for earthly lyres,
While, like held breath, the stars drew in their panting fires
And then she whisper?d in such trembling tone,
As those who, safe together met alone
For the first time through many anguish?d days,
Use other speech than looks; bidding him raise
His drooping head, and clear his soul of doubt,
For that she was a woman, and without
Any more subtle fluid in her veins
Than throbbing blood, and that the self-same pains
Inhabited her frail-strung heart as his.
And next she wonder?d how his eyes could miss
Her face so long in Corinth, where, she said,
She dwelt but half retir?d, and there had led
Days happy as the gold coin could invent
Without the aid of love; yet in content
Till she saw him, as once she pass?d him by,
Where ?gainst a column he leant thoughtfully
At Venus? temple porch, ?mid baskets heap?d
Of amorous herbs and flowers, newly reap?d
Late on that eve, as ?twas the night before
The Adonian feast; whereof she saw no more,
But wept alone those days, for why should she adore?
Lycius from death awoke into amaze,
To see her still, and singing so sweet lays;
Then from amaze into delight he fell
To hear her whisper woman?s lore so well;
And every word she spake entic?d him on
To unperplex?d delight and pleasure known.
Let the mad poets say whate?er they please
Of the sweets of Fairies, Peris, Goddesses,
There is not such a treat among them all,
Haunters of cavern, lake, and waterfall,
As a real woman, lineal indeed
From Pyrrha?s pebbles or old Adam?s seed.
Thus gentle Lamia judg?d, and judg?d aright,
That Lycius could not love in half a fright,
So threw the goddess off, and won his heart
More pleasantly by playing woman?s part,
With no more awe than what her beauty gave,
That, while it smote, still guaranteed to save.
Lycius to all made eloquent reply,
Marrying to every word a twinborn sigh;
And last, pointing to Corinth, ask?d her sweet,
If ?twas too far that night for her soft feet.
The way was short, for Lamia?s eagerness
Made, by a spell, the triple league decrease
To a few paces; not at all surmised
By blinded Lycius, so in her comprized.
They pass?d the city gates, he knew not how
So noiseless, and he never thought to know.

As men talk in a dream, so Corinth all,
Throughout her palaces imperial,
And all her populous streets and temples lewd,
Mutter?d, like tempest in the distance brew?d,
To the wide-spreaded night above her towers.
Men, women, rich and poor, in the cool hours,
Shuffled their sandals o?er the pavement white,
Companion?d or alone; while many a light
Flared, here and there, from wealthy festivals,
And threw their moving shadows on the walls,
Or found them cluster?d in the corniced shade
Of some arch?d temple door, or dusky colonnade.

Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear,
Her fingers he press?d hard, as one came near
With curl?d gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald crown,
Slow-stepp?d, and robed in philosophic gown:
Lycius shrank closer, as they met and past,
Into his mantle, adding wings to haste,
While hurried Lamia trembled: ?Ah,? said he,
?Why do you shudder, love, so ruefully?
?Why does your tender palm dissolve in dew???-
?I?m wearied,? said fair Lamia: ?tell me who
?Is that old man? I cannot bring to mind
?His features:?-Lycius! wherefore did you blind
?Yourself from his quick eyes?? Lycius replied,
??Tis Apollonius sage, my trusty guide
?And good instructor; but to-night he seems
?The ghost of folly haunting my sweet dreams.

While yet he spake they had arrived before
A pillar?d porch, with lofty portal door,
Where hung a silver lamp, whose phosphor glow
Reflected in the slabbed steps below,
Mild as a star in water; for so new,
And so unsullied was the marble hue,
So through the crystal polish, liquid fine,
Ran the dark veins, that none but feet divine
Could e?er have touch?d there. Sounds Aeolian
Breath?d from the hinges, as the ample span
Of the wide doors disclos?d a place unknown
Some time to any, but those two alone,
And a few Persian mutes, who that same year
Were seen about the markets: none knew where
They could inhabit; the most curious
Were foil?d, who watch?d to trace them to their house:
And but the flitter-winged verse must tell,
For truth?s sake, what woe afterwards befel,
?Twould humour many a heart to leave them thus,
Shut from the busy world of more incredulous.

[edit] Part II
Love in a hut, with water and a crust,
Is?-Love, forgive us!?-cinders, ashes, dust;
Love in a palace is perhaps at last
More grievous torment than a hermit?s fast:?-
That is a doubtful tale from faery land,
Hard for the non-elect to understand.
Had Lycius liv?d to hand his story down,
He might have given the moral a fresh frown,
Or clench?d it quite: but too short was their bliss
To breed distrust and hate, that make the soft voice hiss.
Besides, there, nightly, with terrific glare,
Love, jealous grown of so complete a pair,
Hover?d and buzz?d his wings, with fearful roar,
Above the lintel of their chamber door,
And down the passage cast a glow upon the floor.

For all this came a ruin: side by side
They were enthroned, in the even tide,
Upon a couch, near to a curtaining
Whose airy texture, from a golden string,
Floated into the room, and let appear
Unveil?d the summer heaven, blue and clear,
Betwixt two marble shafts:?-there they reposed,
Where use had made it sweet, with eyelids closed,
Saving a tythe which love still open kept,
That they might see each other while they almost slept;
When from the slope side of a suburb hill,
Deafening the swallow?s twitter, came a thrill
Of trumpets?-Lycius started?-the sounds fled,
But left a thought, a buzzing in his head.
For the first time, since first he harbour?d in
That purple-lined palace of sweet sin,
His spirit pass?d beyond its golden bourn
Into the noisy world almost forsworn.
The lady, ever watchful, penetrant,
Saw this with pain, so arguing a want
Of something more, more than her empery
Of joys; and she began to moan and sigh
Because he mused beyond her, knowing well
That but a moment?s thought is passion?s passing bell.
?Why do you sigh, fair creature?? whisper?d he:
?Why do you think?? return?d she tenderly:
?You have deserted me;?-where am I now?
?Not in your heart while care weighs on your brow:
?No, no, you have dismiss?d me; and I go
?From your breast houseless: ay, it must be so.?
He answer?d, bending to her open eyes,
Where he was mirror?d small in paradise,
?My silver planet, both of eve and morn!
?Why will you plead yourself so sad forlorn,
?While I am striving how to fill my heart
?With deeper crimson, and a double smart?
?How to entangle, trammel up and snare
?Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there
?Like the hid scent in an unbudded rose?
?Ay, a sweet kiss?-you see your mighty woes.
?My thoughts! shall I unveil them? Listen then!
?What mortal hath a prize, that other men
?May be confounded and abash?d withal,
?But lets it sometimes pace abroad majestical,
?And triumph, as in thee I should rejoice
?Amid the hoarse alarm of Corinth?s voice.
?Let my foes choke, and my friends shout afar,
?While through the thronged streets your bridal car
?Wheels round its dazzling spokes.??-The lady?s cheek
Trembled; she nothing said, but, pale and meek,
Arose and knelt before him, wept a rain
Of sorrows at his words; at last with pain
Beseeching him, the while his hand she wrung,
To change his purpose. He thereat was stung,
Perverse, with stronger fancy to reclaim
Her wild and timid nature to his aim:
Besides, for all his love, in self despite,
Against his better self, he took delight
Luxurious in her sorrows, soft and new.
His passion, cruel grown, took on a hue
Fierce and sanguineous as ?twas possible
In one whose brow had no dark veins to swell.
Fine was the mitigated fury, like
Apollo?s presence when in act to strike
The serpent?-Ha, the serpent! certes, she
Was none. She burnt, she lov?d the tyranny,
And, all subdued, consented to the hour
When to the bridal he should lead his paramour.
Whispering in midnight silence, said the youth,
?Sure some sweet name thou hast, though, by my truth,
?I have not ask?d it, ever thinking thee
?Not mortal, but of heavenly progeny,
?As still I do. Hast any mortal name,
?Fit appellation for this dazzling frame?
?Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth,
?To share our marriage feast and nuptial mirth??
?I have no friends,? said Lamia, ?no, not one;
?My presence in wide Corinth hardly known:
?My parents? bones are in their dusty urns
?Sepulchred, where no kindled incense burns,
?Seeing all their luckless race are dead, save me,
?And I neglect the holy rite for thee.
?Even as you list invite your many guests;
?But if, as now it seems, your vision rests
?With any pleasure on me, do not bid
?Old Apollonius?-from him keep me hid.?
Lycius, perplex?d at words so blind and blank,
Made close inquiry; from whose touch she shrank,
Feigning a sleep; and he to the dull shade
Of deep sleep in a moment was betray?d.

It was the custom then to bring away
The bride from home at blushing shut of day,
Veil?d, in a chariot, heralded along
By strewn flowers, torches, and a marriage song,
With other pageants: but this fair unknown
Had not a friend. So being left alone,
(Lycius was gone to summon all his kin)
And knowing surely she could never win
His foolish heart from its mad pompousness,
She set herself, high-thoughted, how to dress
The misery in fit magnificence.
She did so, but ?tis doubtful how and whence
Came, and who were her subtle servitors.
About the halls, and to and from the doors,
There was a noise of wings, till in short space
The glowing banquet-room shone with wide-arched grace.
A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone
Supportress of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
Fresh carved cedar, mimicking a glade
Of palm and plantain, met from either side,
High in the midst, in honour of the bride:
Two palms and then two plantains, and so on,
From either side their stems branch?d one to one
All down the aisled place; and beneath all
There ran a stream of lamps straight on from wall to wall.
So canopied, lay an untasted feast
Teeming with odours. Lamia, regal drest,
Silently paced about, and as she went,
In pale contented sort of discontent,
Mission?d her viewless servants to enrich
The fretted splendour of each nook and niche.
Between the tree-stems, marbled plain at first,
Came jasper pannels; then, anon, there burst
Forth creeping imagery of slighter trees,
And with the larger wove in small intricacies.
Approving all, she faded at self-will,
And shut the chamber up, close, hush?d and still,
Complete and ready for the revels rude,
When dreadful guests would come to spoil her solitude.

The day appear?d, and all the gossip rout.
O senseless Lycius! Madman! wherefore flout
The silent-blessing fate, warm cloister?d hours,
And show to common eyes these secret bowers?
The herd approach?d; each guest, with busy brain,
Arriving at the portal, gaz?d amain,
And enter?d marveling: for they knew the street,
Remember?d it from childhood all complete
Without a gap, yet ne?er before had seen
That royal porch, that high-built fair demesne;
So in they hurried all, maz?d, curious and keen:
Save one, who look?d thereon with eye severe,
And with calm-planted steps walk?d in austere;
?Twas Apollonius: something too he laugh?d,
As though some knotty problem, that had daft
His patient thought, had now begun to thaw,
And solve and melt:?-?twas just as he foresaw.

He met within the murmurous vestibule
His young disciple. ??Tis no common rule,
?Lycius,? said he, ?for uninvited guest
?To force himself upon you, and infest
?With an unbidden presence the bright throng
?Of younger friends; yet must I do this wrong,
?And you forgive me.? Lycius blush?d, and led
The old man through the inner doors broad-spread;
With reconciling words and courteous mien
Turning into sweet milk the sophist?s spleen.

Of wealthy lustre was the banquet-room,
Fill?d with pervading brilliance and perfume:
Before each lucid pannel fuming stood
A censer fed with myrrh and spiced wood,
Each by a sacred tripod held aloft,
Whose slender feet wide-swerv?d upon the soft
Wool-woofed carpets: fifty wreaths of smoke
From fifty censers their light voyage took
To the high roof, still mimick?d as they rose
Along the mirror?d walls by twin-clouds odorous.
Twelve sphered tables, by silk seats insphered,
High as the level of a man?s breast rear?d
On libbard?s paws, upheld the heavy gold
Of cups and goblets, and the store thrice told
Of Ceres? horn, and, in huge vessels, wine
Came from the gloomy tun with merry shine.
Thus loaded with a feast the tables stood,
Each shrining in the midst the image of a God.

When in an antichamber every guest
Had felt the cold full sponge to pleasure press?d,
By minist?ring slaves, upon his hands and feet,
And fragrant oils with ceremony meet
Pour?d on his hair, they all mov?d to the feast
In white robes, and themselves in order placed
Around the silken couches, wondering
Whence all this mighty cost and blaze of wealth could spring.

Soft went the music the soft air along,
While fluent Greek a vowel?d undersong
Kept up among the guests discoursing low
At first, for scarcely was the wine at flow;
But when the happy vintage touch?d their brains,
Louder they talk, and louder come the strains
Of powerful instruments:?-the gorgeous dyes,
The space, the splendour of the draperies,
The roof of awful richness, nectarous cheer,
Beautiful slaves, and Lamia?s self, appear,
Now, when the wine has done its rosy deed,
And every soul from human trammels freed,
No more so strange; for merry wine, sweet wine,
Will make Elysian shades not too fair, too divine.
Soon was God Bacchus at meridian height;
Flush?d were their cheeks, and bright eyes double bright:
Garlands of every green, and every scent
From vales deflower?d, or forest-trees branch rent,
In baskets of bright osier?d gold were brought
High as the handles heap?d, to suit the thought
Of every guest; that each, as he did please,
Might fancy-fit his brows, silk-pillow?d at his ease.

What wreath for Lamia? What for Lycius?
What for the sage, old Apollonius?
Upon her aching forehead be there hung
The leaves of willow and of adder?s tongue;
And for the youth, quick, let us strip for him
The thyrsus, that his watching eyes may swim
Into forgetfulness; and, for the sage,
Let spear-grass and the spiteful thistle wage
War on his temples. Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold philosophy?
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an Angel?s wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine?-
Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made
The tender-person?d Lamia melt into a shade.

By her glad Lycius sitting, in chief place,
Scarce saw in all the room another face,
Till, checking his love trance, a cup he took
Full brimm?d, and opposite sent forth a look
?Cross the broad table, to beseech a glance
From his old teacher?s wrinkled countenance,
And pledge him. The bald-head philosopher
Had fix?d his eye, without a twinkle or stir
Full on the alarmed beauty of the bride,
Brow-beating her fair form, and troubling her sweet pride.
Lycius then press?d her hand, with devout touch,
As pale it lay upon the rosy couch:
?Twas icy, and the cold ran through his veins;
Then sudden it grew hot, and all the pains
Of an unnatural heat shot to his heart.
?Lamia, what means this? Wherefore dost thou start?
?Know?st thou that man?? Poor Lamia answer?d not.
He gaz?d into her eyes, and not a jot
Own?d they the lovelorn piteous appeal:
More, more he gaz?d: his human senses reel:
Some hungry spell that loveliness absorbs;
There was no recognition in those orbs.
?Lamia!? he cried?-and no soft-toned reply.
The many heard, and the loud revelry
Grew hush; the stately music no more breathes;
The myrtle sicken?d in a thousand wreaths.
By faint degrees, voice, lute, and pleasure ceased;
A deadly silence step by step increased,
Until it seem?d a horrid presence there,
And not a man but felt the terror in his hair.
?Lamia!? he shriek?d; and nothing but the shriek
With its sad echo did the silence break.
?Begone, foul dream!? he cried, gazing again
In the bride?s face, where now no azure vein
Wander?d on fair-spaced temples; no soft bloom
Misted the cheek; no passion to illume
The deep-recessed vision:?-all was blight;
Lamia, no longer fair, there sat a deadly white.
?Shut, shut those juggling eyes, thou ruthless man!
?Turn them aside, wretch! or the righteous ban
?Of all the Gods, whose dreadful images
?Here represent their shadowy presences,
?May pierce them on the sudden with the thorn
?Of painful blindness; leaving thee forlorn,
?In trembling dotage to the feeblest fright
?Of conscience, for their long offended might,
?For all thine impious proud-heart sophistries,
?Unlawful magic, and enticing lies.
?Corinthians! look upon that gray-beard wretch!
?Mark how, possess?d, his lashless eyelids stretch
?Around his demon eyes! Corinthians, see!
?My sweet bride withers at their potency.?
?Fool!? said the sophist, in an under-tone
Gruff with contempt; which a death-nighing moan
From Lycius answer?d, as heart-struck and lost,
He sank supine beside the aching ghost.
?Fool! Fool!? repeated he, while his eyes still
Relented not, nor mov?d; ?from every ill
?Of life have I preserv?d thee to this day,
?And shall I see thee made a serpent?s prey?
Then Lamia breath?d death breath; the sophist?s eye,
Like a sharp spear, went through her utterly,
Keen, cruel, perceant, stinging: she, as well
As her weak hand could any meaning tell,
Motion?d him to be silent; vainly so,
He look?d and look?d again a level?-No!
?A Serpent!? echoed he; no sooner said,
Than with a frightful scream she vanished:
And Lycius? arms were empty of delight,
As were his limbs of life, from that same night.
On the high couch he lay!?-his friends came round?-
Supported him?-no pulse, or breath they found,
And, in its marriage robe, the heavy body wound.

Thursday, 24 September 2009

Essence - March Violets Lyrics

The genius sunburst finish disappears
In the final glow
The seed is sown the flowers grow
Nirvana is so very far away
A million miles of broken glass
A million faces from behind
Straight between the eyes


When inspiration rears it's ugly head
Electric shame electric shades
The pieces lying in a waste of shame
The course is clear to ride the nightmare out
The fountainhead is running out
Essence is laid bare

The definitions of an empty world
The problem's down to you my friend
Probably but never quite the same
The private dream screens melt away
The screaming starts today

Wednesday, 23 September 2009

No Cure For the Lonely - Swans Lyrics

She'll go down there to nowhere soon
She'll stand there still with her head in the moon
I will be her nowhere man
We're not named until the end
Ooh ooh
That girl was so much better than me
But it always goes wrong
There's no cure for the lonely
With loneliness she'll sink in the sand
I feel the heat go out of her hand
We were born with our face to the wall
We only have one chance to crawl
When we laid down there I held your hand
And never feel your body again
Ooh ooh
Cut down the preacher, he just lies
Burn all the books that closed my mind
Destroy it all, it's all untrue
How can I even breathe without you?

Gefunden - Found [ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ]

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Translation: Hyde Flippo


Ich ging im Walde I was walking in the woods
So f?r mich hin, Just on a whim of mine,
Und nichts zu suchen, And seeking nothing,
Das war mein Sinn. That was my intention.

Im Schatten sah ich In the shade I saw
Ein Bl?mchen stehn, A little flower standing
Wie Sterne leuchtend Like stars glittering
Wie ?uglein sch?n. Like beautiful little eyes.

Ich wollt es brechen, I wanted to pick it
Da sagt' es fein: When it said delicately:
Soll ich zum Welken, Should I just to wilt
Gebrochen sein? Be picked?

Ich grubs mit allen I dug it out with all
Den W?rzeln aus, Its little roots.
Zum Garten trug ichs To the garden I carried it
Am h?bschen Haus. By the lovely house.

Und pflanzt es wieder And replanted it
Am stillen Ort; In this quiet spot;
Nun zweigt es immer Now it keeps branching out
Und bl?ht so fort. And blossoms ever forth.


Just on a whim of mine,
And seeking nothing,
That was my intention.

In the shade I saw
A little flower standing
Like stars glittering
Like beautiful little eyes.

I wanted to pick it
When it said delicately:
Should I just to wilt
Be picked?

I dug it out with all
Its little roots.
To the garden I carried it
By the lovely house.

And replanted it
In this quiet spot;
Now it keeps branching out
And blossoms ever forth.

Monday, 21 September 2009

Red Queen - Coil Lyrics

(Preliminary rapid repetition of the first section.)

Now you've absorbed it into your system
Now that you've allowed it to be true
Now that you've neutralised it, made it safe, made it yours
Now that you've been photographed, recorded
What are you gonna do?
What are you gonna do?

Is it so unsafe when you are
Insecure in the space where you are?
Is it so, really so,
Is it more real?
Is it more yours?
Is it more yours?
Is it more real, for you,
Than it is for him or me?
And the people who perceive it
Repeat it, distort it, improve it, update it
Slightly change it
And these people believe it
And write it all up for you
And is it more real?

And is it more real?
Does it make it more yours,
Now you're recorded as having said it?
And being seen and done it
People have been seen to take notice
So empty
Is it so awful to be seen to feel and fail?
Overheard and noted to authenticate his story
An unsafe male trait
You know what they say
That empty vessels ring true, like bells
Make the most noise
The ink is still wet
In this case, the medium is not

Is it so unsafe when you are
Insecure in the space where you are?
Is it so, really so, unsafe you can't let
Let go?
Is it so unsafe when you are
Insecure in the space where you are?

What are you going to do if they don't believe you?
What are you going to do if they don't believe you?
What are you gonna do?
What are you going to do if they don't believe you?
What are you going to do if they don't believe you?
What are you going to do if they don't believe you?
What are you going to do if they don't believe you?

Friday, 18 September 2009

Original Latin Text texts from the chants of Hildegard von Bingen + translation

O rubor sanguinis,
qui de excelso illo fluxisti,
quod divinitas tetigit,

tu flos es,
quem hiems de flatu serpentis
num quam lesit.

O ruby blood

O ruby blood
which flowed from on high
where divinity touched.

You are a flower
that the winter
of the serpent's breath
can never injure.

Hildegard of Bingen (German: Hildegard von Bingen; Latin: Hildegardis Bingensis; 1098 ? 17 September 1179), also known as Blessed Hildegard, Saint Hildegard, and Sybil of the Rhine, was a Christian mystic, German Benedictine abbess, author, counselor, linguist, naturalist, scientist, philosopher, physician, herbalist, poet, channeller, visionary, composer, and polymath. Elected a magistra by her fellow nuns in 1136, she founded the monasteries of Rupertsberg in 1150 and Eibingen in 1165.

She was a composer with an extant biography from her own time. One of her works, the Ordo Virtutum, is an early example of liturgical drama.[2]

She wrote theological, botanical and medicinal texts, as well as letters, liturgical songs, poems, and the first surviving morality play, while supervising brilliant miniature Illuminations.

Wednesday, 16 September 2009

Elemetal signs symbols

Elemental Houses
Ether Meridian - Spirit - The Temple
I Am the spirit around you
I am divinity within you
I am the light shining through you
I am all that I am!

The etheric meridian is also know as the fifth elemental house of the meridian or spirit. Etheric ether is strongest in the early hours as the four etheric winds pass into the physical plane between 4am and 7am this movement of energy is known as prana or life force energy.

Council of elders of the temple of the earth energies and are known in magic circles as the Ancient Ones. Element Spirit body of the temple.

Fire Element - South Tower
I am the Fire around you
I am the spark of life within you
I am the flame burning through you
I am all that I Am!

Fire - Salamanders
The salamanders are the spirit of fire. Without these beings, fire cannot exist. You cannot light a match without a salamander's being present. There are many families of salamanders, differing in size, appearance, and dignity. Some people have seen them as small balls of light, but most commonly they are perceived as being lizard-like in shape and about a foot or more in length.
The salamanders are considered the strongest and most powerful of all the elementals. Their ruler is a magnificent flaming being called Djin. Those who have seen him say that he is terrible, yet awe-inspiring in appearance.

Salamanders have the ability to extend their size or diminish it, as needed. If you ever need to light a campfire in the wilderness, call to the salamanders and they will help you.

It has also been said that salamanders (and the other elemental beings) can be mischievous at times. For example, a fiery temper and inharmonious conditions in a person's home can cause these beings to make trouble. They are like children in that they don't fully understand the results of their actions. They are greatly affected, as are all nature spirits, by human humankind's thinking.

Air Element - East Tower
I am the Air around you
I am the breath of life within you
I am the wind blowing through you
I am all that I Am!

What about the air meridian? It is an extension of the nature meridian energy that gives life to the planet and we draw it into our bodies all the time. As we all know pollution plays a big part in our lives and it is pollution that has affected the air meridian and ether meridian with CFC and other gas particles that affect our lives and our health. We gather this negative energy of CFCs and other gasses in our energy systems as well and that in turn causes illness in the physical body as well.

We can counter this problem by living in cleaner environments like the country or surrounding ourselves with plant life if we live the the city. We can also balance this problem by air meridian charging the other way to counter this problem would be to find cleaner and greener ways to live by stopping the pollution of our planet and restoring the air meridian to its natural order in the meridian eco system.

Air - Sylphs
The sylphs are the air spirits. Their element has the highest vibratory rate of the four (beside earth, fire, water). They live hundreds of years, often reaching one thousand and never seeming to get old. They are said to live on the tops of mountains. The leader of the sylphs is a being called Paralda who is said to dwell on the highest mountain of Earth.
Sylphs often assume human form but only for short periods of time. The vary in size from being as large as a human to being much smaller. They are volatile and changeable. The winds are their particular vehicle. The work through the gases and ethers of the Earth and are kindly toward humans.

They are usually seen with wings, looking like cherubs or fairies. Because of their connection to air, which is associated with the mental aspect, one of their functions is to help humans receive inspiration. The sylphs are drawn to those who use their minds, particularly those on creative arts.

Water Element - West Tower
I am the Water around you
I am the pulse of life within you
I am the ocean flowing through you
I am all that I am!

The water meridian is the most important meridian of the earth and is one of the cleansing and life giving meridians as well but it also supports the meridians of nature and earth. Then in turn air and ether and as we pollute the water meridian we also affect all of these meridians. So this in turn affects us all and it is this imbalance that we must fix. One way to do this is to find cleaner ways of living. The other way to do this is by charging off the water meridian more often.

Water - Undines
The undines are the elemental beings that compose water. They are able to control, to a great degree, the course and function of the water element. Etheric in nature, they exist within the water itself and this is why they can't be seen with the normal physical vision. These beings are beautiful to look at and are very graceful.
They are often seen riding the waves of the ocean. They can also be found in rocky pools and in marshlands. They are clothed in a shimmery substance looking like water but shinning with all the colors of the sea, with green predominating. The concept of the mermaid is connected with these elemental beings.

The undines also work with the plants that grow under the water and with the motion of water. Some undines inhabit waterfalls, others live in rivers and lakes. Every fountain has its nymph. Every ocean has its oceanids.

The undines closely resemble humans in appearance and size, except for those inhabiting smaller streams and ponds. The undines often live in coral caves under the ocean or on the shores of lakes or banks of rivers. Smaller undines live under lily pads.

The undines work with the vital essences and liquids of plants, animals, and human beings. They are present in everything containing water. There are many families of undines, as the chart indicates.

The ruler of the undines is a called Necksa. The undines love, serve, and honor her unceasingly. They are emotional beings, very friendly and open to being of service to human beings.

The smaller undines are often seen as winged beings that people have mistakenly called fairies. Those winged beings are seen near flowers that grow in watery areas. They have gossamer wings and gossamer clothing.

Subgroups Of The Water Meridian
Sea Maids
Water Spirits
The Naiads (from the Greek ?????, "to flow," and ????, "running water") were a type of nymph who presided over fountains, wells, springs, streams, and brooks, as river gods embodied rivers, and some very ancient spirits inhabited the still waters of marshes, ponds and lagoon-lakes, such as pre-Mycenaean Lerna in the Argolid. Naiads were associated with fresh water, as the Oceanids were with saltwater and the Nereids specifically with the Mediterranean; but because the Greeks thought of the world's waters as all one system, which percolated in from the sea in deep cavernous spaces within the bosom of the earth, to rise freshened in seeps and springs, there was some overlap. Arethusa, the nymph of a spring, could make her way through subterranean flows from the Peloponnesus, to surface on the island of Sicily. In his Dionisiaca, (XVI.356; XXIV.123) Nonnus gave the naiads the nonce-name Hydriades ("water ladies").

Earth Element - North Tower
I am the Earth around you
I am the heartbeat within you
I am the ground below you
I am all that I am!

Earth Meridian
As for the earth meridian then earth is our home and if we look after our home world then our home world will look after us. The way we do this is by finding cleaner and greener ways to live and to stop depleting our resources. The other is by grounding to the earth every now and then and balancing our energy system.

The meridian energies exercise chart will show you which charging, cleansing, healing techniques you need for your area and the charging, cleansing, and healing techniques will help you balance out your energy system and this in turn will bring us all better health and a happier life style.

The nature meridian is also one of great importance because it is the cleansing meridian of the earth. The nature meridian takes the negative forces of the earth like carbon dioxide and cleanses it and reproduces it as air. But we as humans cut away the forest of meridian energy so then the nature meridian weakens. In turn our energy system is weakened by this affect. The way to counter this problem is by replanting as we use and bring greenery into our homes and in doing this we are cleansing, charging, and healing our energy system so we can charge off the nature meridian.

Consolation of Men - Rome lyrics

why should we disguise in order to conceal?
why then try to hide a wound that shall not heal?
they swore to take us to their lands
where milk-white blossoms float
and then they swore to always die in splendour
so let us hear the wild songs they sing
and let us feel the wild joys they bring

and we shall than disguise in order to reveal
and we shall swear tonight to never yield
to never give in, to never falter
to never yield or cry for quarter
when old men dream up wars for us to fight in

when old men dream up wars for us to die in

I don't want to hurt you but I must, I must

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Invisible and Silent - Covenant Lyrics

I'm tricked by your smile
want to be forgiven
waiting for the battle
aching for belief

but your answer is wrong
and my spirit is broken
like choirs in the winter
singing out of key

I am silent
invisible to you
while I count the days gone by

I am silent
invisible to you
while I shape the things to come

I try so hard
to fight for an illusion
holding my breath
biting my tongue
I try to cope
so give me a reason
I'm waiting for help

I'm trapped by my guilt
want to be forgotten
tired of the noise
aching for relief

but your anger is gone
and my silence is golden
like fires on the water
drifting out of reach

I am silente?

Nobody Knows - Nitzer Ebb lyrics

One o'clock in the morning, wet rails take me home
One in the morning on a train in the rain
One in the morning I'm sitting all alone
Thinking and yawning, and what's to be done

Bloody noses, alcohol and bastard drunks
Blowing kisses to the girls who say too much
Bloody noses, alcohol and bastard drunks
Blowing kisses to the girls who say too much

They're just showing you what's to be done
Yeah, the people nobody knows
Yeah, the people nobody knows
Yeah, the people nobody knows

What I say to you
I don't see no one sitting pretty
No one having fun, out in the city
Slipping down one by one

In the city, no one's having fun
Out in the city a thousand times a day
A thousand times, just think how you pay

Yeah, the people nobody knows
Yeah, the people nobody knows
Yeah, the people nobody knows

Yeah, the people nobody knows
Yeah, the people nobody knows
Yeah, the people nobody knows

What I say to you
One o'clock in the morning, wet rails take me home
One in the morning on a train in the rain

Autumn Song

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

Dante Gabriel Rossetti


The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."

And tonight the heavy earth is falling
away from all other stars in the loneliness.

We're all falling. This hand here is falling.
And look at the other one. It's in them all.

And yet there is Someone, whose hands
infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Ode To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,---
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats

Monday, 14 September 2009

Let The Words Of My Murder Be The Last Words You Hear - Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio Lyrics

We are victims of dreams in our moment of truth
Like pawns of delusion marching onward confused
Illusions will die and love turn away
Who remembers the past with the rise of decay?

I prick all my fingers on the thorns of the beast
You undress me and kiss me as I hide in your sleep
Let petals of roses descend where I fall
As we dream of forever and the end of it all

(We are victims of fate in our second of life)
(Desperation is loyal as we doubt and confide)
(When life has renounced and faith has decayed)
(All the dreams that we dream will descend with today)

We are victims of worship in our trial of faith
Praise the mother of fiend-ship praise the father of hate
When the flowers have wilted with the last breath of prey
We imagine salvation and we murder today

Dedication and dreams are predestined to die
Falling gently to dust growing old and disguised
The words of my father still ring in my ears
Let the words of my murder be the last words you hear


by: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

ND have I lost thee evermore,
Hast thou, oh, fair one, from me flown?
Still in mine ear sounds, as of yore,
Thine every word, thine every tone.

As when at morn the wanderer's eye
Attempts to pierce the air in vain,
When, hidden in the azure sky,
The lark high o'er him chants his strain:

So do I cast my troubled gaze
Through bush, through forest, o'er the lea;
Thou art invoked by all my lays;
Oh, come then, loved one, back to me!

THE REUNION by: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

AN it be! of stars the star,
Do I press thee to my heart?
In the night of distance far,
What deep gulf, what bitter smart!
Yes, 'tis thou, indeed at last,
Of my joys the partner dear!
Mindful, though, of sorrows past,
I the present needs must fear.

When the still unfashioned earth
Lay on God's eternal breast,
He ordained its hour of birth,
With creative joy possessed.
Then a heavy sigh arose,
When He spake the sentence: -- "Be!"
And the All, with mighty throes,
Burst into reality.

And when thus was born the light,
Darkness near it feared to stay,
And the elements with might
Fled on every side away;
Each on some far-distant trace,
Each with visions wild employed,
Numb, in boundless realms of space,
Harmony and feeling-void.

Dumb was all, all still and dead,
For the first time, God alone!
Then He formed the morning-red,
Which soon made its kindness known:
It unravelled from the waste
Bright and glowing harmony,
And once more with love was graced
What contended formerly.

And with earnest, noble strife,
Each its own peculiar sought;
Back to full, unbounded life,
Sight and feeling soon were brought.
Wherefore, if 'tis done, explore
How? why give the manner, name?
Allah need create no more,
We his world ourselves can frame.

So, with morning pinions brought,
To thy mouth was I impelled;
Stamped with thousand seals by night,
Star-clear is the bond fast held.
Paragons on earth are we
Both of grief and joy sublime,
And a second sentence: -- "Be!"
Parts us not a second time.

Friday, 11 September 2009

Circus Fish - Vermillion Lies Lyrics

I?ll cook you up some lobster bisque
I wanna smoke you like a fish
You smell like kelp I think it?s hot
I?m gonna stick you in my pot
It?s true you are my fish fillet
I?ll fry you up with some frisee

You are just like my garden trowel
I don?t know what to rhyme with trowel
I?ll stick you deep down in the dirt
and you can laugh when it hurts (Maniacal laughter-every musician)
and then you?ll flower from your stem
they want to pluck you, I know them.

I?m going to ring you like a sponge
I?ll clean my floor with your tongue
You dry the dishes oh so nice
You dirty rag, let?s do it twice (Three times! Four!)
And now let?s shine the silverware
You?re tired, hungry? I don?t care.

And when I?m done with your service
I?m gonna sell you to the circus
I?ll come and visit in a week
You?ll make a nice circus freak
That?s what my mother said to me

She never came to visit

That?s why I wrote this song.

Mother Fist - MArc Almond Lyrics

Well now I've been on my own for many a year
Seems like I'll never get loved
Got me a hand on this brother of mine
And I'm gonna get me the rub
Turn me the lights down to a purple glow
Put Bessie Smith on the wail
Bring me the five young daughters
And help my ship to set sail

Mother Fist never gets angry
Mother Fist she never gets bored
I don't have to feed her
I just have to need her
She cries give me the word

When I'm downtown in Barcelona
When I'm pissed or when I'm pissed off
Mother Fist just gives me her tender kiss
And some of her sexy stuff
And I lock my door from the inside
Turn my mind to sweet sweet pain
And I wail just like Yma Sumac
Mother Fist she never complains

Mother Fist never gets angry
Mother Fist she never gets bored
I don't have to feed her
I just have to need her
She cries give me the word

Now I don't care if I'm in a prison
In confinement solitary
A soldier lost in the legion
Or a sailor out on the sea
A beggar, thief or a rich man
A gunman mercenary
A one legged crook
An Armenian cook
As long as my mother's with me

Mother Fist never gets angry
Mother Fist she never gets bored
I don't have to feed her
I just have to need her
She cries give me the word

I want to Be Evil - Eartha Kitt Lyrics and Video

I've posed for pictures with Iv'ry Soap,
I've petted stray dogs, and shied clear of dope
(I've petted stray dogs, and I never mope)*
My smile is brilliant, my glance is tender
But I'm noted most for my unspoiled gender

I've been made Miss Reingold, though I never touch beer,
(I've been named Miss Perseverance year after year,)*
And I'm the person to whom they say, "Your sweet, My Dear."
The only etchings I've seen have been behind glass,
And the closest I've been to a bar, is at ballet class.

Prim and proper, the girl who's never been cased,
I'm tired of being pure and not chased.
Like something that seeks it's level
I wanna go to the devil.

I wanna be evil, I wanna spit tacks
I wanna be evil, and cheat at jacks
I wanna be wicked, I wanna tell lies
I wanna be mean, and throw mud pies

I want to wake up in the morning
with that dark brown taste
I want to see some dissipation in my face
I wanna be evil, I wanna be mad
But more that that I wanna be bad

I wanna be evil, and trump an ace,
Just to see my partner's face.
I wanna be nasty, I wanna be cruel
I wanna be daring, I wanna shoot pool

And in the theatre
I want to change my seat
Just so I can step on
Everybody's feet

I wanna be evil, I wanna hurt flies
I wanna sing songs like the guy who cries
I wanna be horrid, I wanna drink booze
(I want to be horrid, I want to make news)*
And whatever I've got I'm eager to lose

I wanna be evil, little evil me
Just as mean and evil as I can be

Guitar - Peter Nlitch lyrics

I've never been lonely
cause... me is so cool
Baby you have a possibility
play it with me

I've never been clever
because need it never
Baby you have a possibility
play it with me

Guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar,
Come to my Boudoir
Baby you have a possibility
play it with me

Guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar,
Jump to my Yaguar
Baby you have a possibility
play it with me

I put on my pyjamas
and go to Bahamas
Baby no possibility
play it with me

Guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar,
Jump to my Yaguar baby,
you have a possibility play it with me(x2)

Is there sun over sky?
{Lai, lai, lai, lai.., c'mon...,dance
wola olaola gitar male

Guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar,
Come to my Boudoir
Baby you have a possibility
play it with me

Guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar,
Jump to my Yaguar Oooo
Baby you have a possibility
play it with me

Todays' Favourite - Man Men - Whale Bones

He felt her curves surrounding his neck
Like a yoke
He knows
He'll never forget
The way she cut through his bed
Like a snake would bite through a cave of flesh
But he holds her
Though she's broken
He swears he don't care where she's been

He's tired of being human
He wears her close to the bone as though she were his own skin

He shoots from the heart instead of the head
His mouth and his words they rarely connect
He looks to the past and where his tongue's tread
And he knows he meant the opposite

But she holds him
Like an infant
Though it breaks her in half to know he'll wake like a man
Sold on cold indifference
When he reaches for her she's gone
She slips like the wind through blackened sails, but

Who are we to love at all?

And I hope you don't mind
If I hang all of my hopes
I hang all my hopes on this time
Although I've been warned
I'll probably get burned
I'd rather get burned than to not try

I hope you don't mind
If I hang all of my hopes
I hang all of my hopes on this time
'Cause you won't
Let it go

From the album: Rabbit Habits


Thursday, 10 September 2009

Alchemical Correspondence - Air Water earth and fire



ASSOCIATIONS: Thought, communication, travel, intellect, abstract thinking, teaching, divination, freedom, joy, laughter, beginnings,

QUALITIES: hot, moist, light, active

GENDER: masculine, projective


COLORS: yellow, sky blue, pastels




ANIMALS: birds, flying insects

PLANTS: Celtic trees - Aspen, Alder, Birch. Herbs - Anise, Lavender, Lemongrass. Natives ? Mistletoe, (Ball Moss), Cedar Elm, Acacia, Mimosa

STONES: Mica, Pumice, (Fluorite)

METALS: Aluminum, Tin

MYTHOLOGICAL BEINGS: Gryphons, Gremlins, Pegasus

KERUB: Human Being

TAROT SUIT: Swords (Wands)


RUNES: Ansuz , Raidho Eihwaz, Tiwaz

ZODIAC SIGNS: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

PLANETS: Neptune, (Mercury)

HOUR: Dawn

DAY(S): (Wednesday)

SEASON: Spring

LIFE CYCLE: Infancy and childhood

ALCHEMICAL SYMBOL: upward pointing triangle bisected by a horizontal line

TATTWA SYMBOL: blue circle

QABALISTIC SEPHIROT: Yesod/Foundation, Tipharet/Beauty

MAGICAL TOOLS: Wand, Staff, Athame, Sword, Incense, Feather, Pen, Broom, Scourge

CHAKRA(S): Heart, (Throat, 3rd Eye)

TYPES OF MAGIC: Study, visualizaton, divination, finding lost objects, astral travel, telepathy, travel, communication

POSITIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Joyful, humorous, communicative, intelligent, intuitive, diligent

NEGATIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Gossipy, boastful, spendthrift, untruthful, selfish, fickle, inattentive

OVERBALANCE: Chatterbox, shallow, or overintellectualization

UNDERBALANCE: Muddy thinking, slow, inability to communicate



ASSOCIATIONS: Emotions, dreams, compassion, love, sadness, psychism, healing, rest, cleansing, dissolution, astral travel, death/rebirth,

QUALITIES: moist, cold, heavy, passive

GENDER: feminine, receptive


COLORS: blue, indigo, aqua, green, silver, purple




ANIMALS: fish, dolphins, all aquatic creatures

PLANTS: Celtic trees - Alder, Hazel, Willow. Herbs - Aloe, Lemon, Yarrow. Natives - American Elm, Cat Brier, Mesquite, Violet, Wax Myrtle

STONES: Aquamarine, Lapis, Limestone, Moonstone, Pearl, Rose Quartz, Shells, Sodalite

METALS: Copper, Sliver

MYTHOLOGICAL BEINGS: Merpeople, Sea Monsters

KERUB: Eagle


TAROT TRUMPS: Moon, Death, Lovers

RUNES: Uruz, Gebo, Hagalaz, Isa, Pethro, Ehwaz, Laguz, Dagaz

ZODIAC SIGNS: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

PLANETS: Moon, (Venus)

HOUR: Dusk

DAY(S): Monday, (Friday)


LIFE CYCLE: Adulthood, Reproductive years

ALCHEMICAL SYMBOL: downward pointing triangle

TATTWA SYMBOL: Silver crescent with horns pointing up

QABALISTIC SEPHIROT: Hod/Splendor, Chesod/Mercy, Binah/Understanding

MAGICAL TOOLS: Chalice, Cup, Bowl, Cauldron, Ring, Sickle

CHAKRA(S): Navel, (Heart)

TYPES OF MAGIC: Divinations, Dreams, Psychic work, Astral Travel, Healing, Fertility

POSITIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Compassionate, loving, forgiving, sensitive, easygoing, modest, flowing

NEGATIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Overly sensitive, weepy, dependent, indifferent, lazy, insecure, frigid

OVERBALANCE: Depresion, hypersensitivity

UNDERBALANCE: Cold, emotionless nature



ASSOCIATIONS: Action, the will, passion, sex, anger, desire, energy, work, purification, destruction, strength, protection,

QUALITIES: hot, dry, light, active

GENDER: masculine, projective


COLORS: red, orange, gold, yellow




ANIMALS: lizards, snakes, lions

PLANTS: Celtic trees - Thorn, Holly, Oak. Herbs - Basil, Cinnamon, Garlic. Natives ? Spanish Dagger, Oaks, Juniper, Sunflower, Chiletepin

STONES: Amber, Bloodstone, Carnelian, Citrine, Diamond, Garnet, Ruby, Tiger's Eye

METALS: Brass, Gold, Steel



TAROT SUIT: Wands, (Swords)

TAROT TRUMPS: Sun, Strength, Emperor

RUNES: Thurisaz, Kenaz, Naudhiz, Sowilo, Ingwaz

ZODIAC SIGNS: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

PLANETS: Sun, Mars

HOUR: Noon

DAY(S): Sunday, Tuesday

SEASON: Summer

LIFE CYCLE: Youth and adolescence

ALCHEMICAL SYMBOL: upward pointing triangle

TATTWA SYMBOL: upward pointing red triangle

QABALISTIC SEPHIROT: Netzach/Victory, Geburah/Judgement, Chokmah/Wisdom

MAGICAL TOOLS: Athame, Sword, Wand, Staff, Candle, Flame, Scourge

CHAKRA(S): Solar Plexus

TYPES OF MAGIC: Banishing, exorcism, purification, tantra, sex, empowering, protection, success

POSITIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Energetic, enthusiastic, courageous, daring, faithful

NEGATIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Stubborn, greedy, jealous, angry, resentful

OVERBALANCE: Dominating, egotistical, violent

UNDERBALANCE: Apathy, boredom, feelings of inferiority, laziness, lack of energy



ASSOCIATIONS: Stability, food, wealth, crops, animals, home, mountains, strength, grounding, protecting, nature, death/rebirth,

QUALITIES: dry, cold, heavy, passive

GENDER: feminine, receptive

MAGICAL POWER: To be silent

COLORS: brown, black, green

ARCHANGEL: Uriel/Auriel



ANIMALS: most four-legged, animals that go by night

PLANTS: Celtic trees - Ash, Dwarf Elm, Hawthorn. Herbs - Patchouli, Vetiver, Wheat Natives - Bald Cypress, Inland Sea-Oats, Texas Persimmon, Elbow-bush, Indiangrass

STONES: Amazonite, Emerald, Hematite/Hematine, Jade, Jet, Lodestone, Malachite, Peridot, Serpentine, Turquoise

METALS: (Iron), Lead, Mercury

MYTHOLOGICAL BEINGS: Giants, Leprechauns, Trolls


TAROT SUIT: Pentacles/Coins/Discs

TAROT TRUMPS: Devil, Empress, Emperor, World

RUNES: Fehu, Wunjo, Jera, Berkano, Mannaz, Othala

ZODIAC SIGNS: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

PLANETS: (Jupiter, Saturn)

HOUR: Midnight

DAY(S): (Thursday, Saturday)

SEASON: Winter


ALCHEMICAL SYMBOL: downward pointing triangle bisected by horizontal line

TATTWA SYMBOL: Yellow Square


MAGICAL TOOLS: Pentacle, Rock, Hammer, Salt, Shield, Drum


TYPES OF MAGIC: Household, Prosperity, Ancestors, Fertility, Grounding, Protection, Eco-Magic

POSITIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Reliable, punctual, stable, perservering, wise

NEGATIVE CHARACTERISTICS: Greedy, sensualist, materialistic, stodgy, narrow-minded

OVERBALANCE: Boring, tunnel-vision, materialistic

UNDERBALANCE: Unreliable, careless, tasteless

Wednesday, 9 September 2009

Wynn Bullock - photography -

Wynn Bullock was born Apr 18 1902, Chicago, Illinois, USA. Wynn Bullock consecrated the major live part to the universal photographic knowledge of nature and of relationships stabled between nature and humans. He opened the doors of abstract art and the use of symbolism. Bullock felt that his photographs were more than surface reflections, that they portrayed the interaction of ?space and time? defined by light.
But before that, he started his life as a concert tenor. While studying music in Paris he started to be attracted into visual arts.

Cover of the Book ?Wynn Bullock: Master of Photography?

Since 1938 he seriously began to study photography. From 1946-1967, Bullock worked as a commercial photographer. In 1957, Bullock won a medal from the Salon of International Photography. After that, he was recognized by the Professional Photographers Association of California.
After his commercial photography period, he dedicated himself to the philosophical meaning of images for what his became famous soon enough. About the same time he started teaching photography and never left this job until he died in 1975.

Bullock?s work is included in the Family of Man exhibition, and in the following collections: the Museum of Modern Art, George Eastman House, the Whitney Museum, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, ICP in New York, the Royal Photographic Society of London and in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The ?Family of Man? is a vast exhibition consisting of over 500 photos that depicted life, love and death in 68 countries.
From his Book (Wynn Bullock: Master of Photography): ?The penetrating, enigmatic, and almost mystical nature of his images is accomplished through formal beauty matched with provocative imagery. Bullock wanted to jolt people to new heights of visual and self-awareness by encouraging them to relate to nature directly, unencumbered by traditional modes of visual and abstract thinking. His dramatic photographs have been characterized as showing the inner essence of nature, powerfully reflecting its mysterious beauty on a level extending beyond the everyday.?

Julien Champagne

An obscure occult artist even among catalogues of obscure occult artists, Julien Champagne (also listed as Jean-Julian) is known principally for his associations with the persistently elusive 20th century alchemist Fulcanelli. Champagne provided a frontispiece (below) for Fulcanelli’s examination of architectural symbolism, Le Mystère des Cathédrales (1926), and is continually rumoured to have been Fulcanelli himself. Whatever the solution to that mystery, the alchemist’s book is rather more visible than the artist’s distinctly Symbolist paintings. There’s a French blog devoted to his life and works here but little else around. I wouldn’t mind seeing a decent online gallery of his pictures at some point.


Dans la rue des tenues charmantes
Maquill? comme mon fianc?
Garcon fille l'allure stup?fiante
Habill? comme ma fianc?e
Cheveux longs cheveux blonds color?s
Toute nue dans une boite en fer
Il est bel il est beau d?cri?
L'outrag? mais j'en ai rien ? faire

J'ai pas envie de la voir nue
J'ai pas envie de le voir nu
Et j'aime cette fille aux cheveux longs
Et ce garcon qui pourrait dire non

Et on se prend la main
Et on se prend la main
Une fille au masculin
Un garcon au f?minin

Des visages dans des cheveux d'or
Qui oublient leur vertue
Mais c'est pas vrai qu'ils ont l'air d'un conquistador
Assexu?s une fois devetus
Quoi croire quand on les voit comme ca
Excitant toutes les petites filles
Pourquoi on y croit plus comme ca
Isol? dans un corps presqu'il

Et on se prend la main
Et on se prend la main
Une fille au masculin
Un garcon au f?minin

Des robes longues pour tous les garcons
Habill?s comme ma fiancee
Pour des filles sans contrefacon
Maquill?es comme mon fianc?
Le grand choc pour les plus vicieux
C'est bientot la chasse aux sorci??res
Ambig??e jusqu'au fond des yeux
Le retour de Jupiter

J'ai pas envie de la voir nue
J'ai pas envie de le voir nu
Et j'aime cette fille aux cheveux longs
Et ce garcon qui pourrait dire non

Et on se prend la main
Et on se prend la main
Une fille au masculin
Un garcon au f?minin

I - 999

Properties of the number 999


  • The justice, the truth.

  • In some texts sacred or esoteric, 999 represents the infinitely large, just as 999999.


  • By undertaking circular permutations of the numbers composing the mysterious number 153, this gives place to six possible combinations: 153, 315, 531 and 351, 135, 513. And:

                             153 + 315 + 531 = 999                          351 + 135 + 513 = 999 
  • The number 999 is the reverse of 666, the number of the Beast of the Revelation (Apocalypse). This arithmetical strangeness demonstrates that the "power" of the Beast, 666, will be "reversed" by 153, characteristic number of the Christ, to give as result 999, symbol of the application of the divine justice. Thus Satan will be chained for 1000 years, 999 + 1.

  • The number 666 to the power 5 gives 131,030,122,140,576. And 131+030+122+140+576 = 999.


  • By using as correspondence table A=1, B=2, ..., J=10, K=20, L=30, ..., S=100, T=200, ..., Z=800, we find that the French words "COMMUNAUTE" (community) and "Marie de l'Incarnation" ("Mary the Incarnation") give each 999.

  • The numerical value of the Hebrew word ShKBTh ZRGh, meaning sperm or seed, gives 999.

Tuesday, 8 September 2009

I give To You - Nitzer Ebb Lyrics

Always told to take more care
but touch that skin
and you'd be there
A voice so clear but far away
picking up on every word I say
To tell the truth I
can't even lie
no politician or a secret spy
I give to you
I give to you
No one else can make me
You pick me up and take me
You got it, you got it
My soul, it lies
My heart, it tries
My mind, is spent
My love...
You can take it all
at your beck and call
I will give to you
I will give to you
I will give to you
I get up out of bed
I'm not alone, but
nothing's said
I leave the room and go outside
[ Find more Lyrics on www.mp3lyrics.org/BQXb ]
sunlight splash
with every stride
To tell the truth I
don't even try
A life in knots that
I don't untie
My soul, it lies
My heart, it tries
My mind, is spent
My love...
You can take it all
At your beck and call
I will give to you
I will give to you
At your beck and call
I will give to you
I will give to you
When the rain is falling
and the wind is calling
When the rain is falling
and the wind is calling
I give to you
When the rain is falling
and the wind is calling
When the rain is falling
and the wind is calling
I give to you
I give you life
I give you life
I give you life
At your beck and call
I will give to you
I will give to you

Tight Fit - Fixmer/McCarthy Lyrics

Tight Fit

i just want to say
one thing that counts
just a single throught
to bear in your mind
keep it at the fore front
on your mind
don't ever forget
there's one special
important item
you must always
make sure that it's
a very , very tight fit

Monday, 7 September 2009

Of the Wand and the Moon - My Devotion will never fade

My Devotion Will Never Fade

I will keep my heart from you
To keep you safe
I shall burn in this hell
In a fire made for you
I will wipe every tear
Of your frozen heart
My devotion will never fade
I'll honor you every night
I will strike down with a vengeance
On the fears that haunt your soul
I will always be there
Though from a distance
And though my heart shall bleed
My love will never blacken
And through these lonely streets
I'll honor you every night

Shibari Haiku

Shibari Haiku Renga


bindings creak

my weight settles-

spring rain


ropes braid

my limbs-

spider's web



a watchful




shadow on the wall-

a sapling's quiver


mental timelessness-


take flight


crescent moon-

the rope master's

work of art

Andre' Masson

Andre' Masson fought in the Great War because he wanted to experience "the Wagnerian aspects of battle" and know the ecstasy of death; Otto Hahn's biography of Masson explained that "ecstasy" the day a bullet ripped into the young artist's chest during the offensive at Chemin des Dames in April of 1917. Stretcher-bearers were unable to get him to safety and he was left on his back for the night. "The world around him became something wondrous and he experienced his first complete physical release, while in the sky there appeared before him a torso of light."[1]

Every person is unconsciously convinced of his own immortality, but when he faces his destiny, testing ceases and reality comes into its own. Gold must be tried in the fire until the dross is burned out, and similarly, when certain elements are exposed to high temperatures new substances are produced which are more than the sum of their components,[2] likewise the truly religious are essentially otherworldly. Because of that "ecstatic experience" Masson became a stranger on earth, a perverse theologian of a world that had suffered a Fall and experienced an Incarnation which changed all the relations of his past and future.

From that alembic bullet and that torso of light, death became a fateful vision for Masson. The war left him nervous with nightmares; he suffered from insomnia and spent long painful hours dreaming new paintings. He defined the relationship between life and death as between two sides of the same coin, l'endroit and l'envers,[3] two faces of the same picture; in his greatest moments of illumination and metamorphosis he painted what transpired on both sides.

Many young men suffered traumatic war experiences that shaped their lives and changed history. Max Ernst bombarded the trenches in which his eventual close friend, Paul Eluard, was standing guard; Franz Marc and Duchamp-Villon were among those killed, Guillaume Apollinaire died on Armistice Day " and we were able to believe that Paris was bedecked in his honor."[4] Max Beckmann, Oskar Kokoschka, Fernand L?ger, Georges Braque, Otto Dix, George Grosz and many others, all belonged to a generation for whom this slaughter was an overwhelming trial in their lives, shattering their confidence in the moral and rational assumptions of Western culture and throwing into question the entire nature of human existence. [5]

There were others who fed on the horrors of war. A would-be artist, Adolf Hitler (about forty of his wartime sketches survive), an almost suicidally heroic dispatch runner, received nearly every medal available, two minor wounds, was gassed, and blinded.[6] It was while in the hospital, suffering mutism and hysterical blindness that he had the vision that he had a great mission to perform, that he was chosen by Providence to liberate Germany from its bondage and make it great. This was the most outstanding characteristic of Hitler's personality, and it is this that guided him with the "precision of a sleepwalker."[7] More significantly, he enjoyed his war experience and was excited by the new life opening up for him after the bleak failure of his early years. By his own account the "ecstatic feeling" in the trenches persuaded and "toughened" him for the struggle ahead. His front line crisis, which contained all the psychological conditions of a conversion, fixed in Hitler's psyche the passion and conviction that changed him into the furious Creator of Warriors. No one evoked so much rejoicing, hysteria, and expectation of salvation during the 1930s as Hitler, when with displays of pseudo-religious pageantry and military power, he turned a demoralized nation into an unqualified instrument of defiance and conquest. The defeated German people accepted him as the Messiah for whom they had been waiting. Germany, ruled by a failed painter, went berserk.

During the 1920s Masson's life was far from serene. He had already developed a masterly cubist style (Picasso praised him highly); but emerging from the war, shattered and subject to fits of rage, he was frequently in a violent, emotional state. There followed a succession of hospitals and finally confinement in a mental ward. The artist's new gore-scarred art was a meditation on death, concentrating on Masson's realities: metamorphosis, erotic violence, death and chaos. He opened himself to the provocation of Surrealist ideology, and his work became a medium of poetic exploration, a realm where dark myths and mutations of the psyche held sway over the forms invented for their depiction.

As he would later affirm, "I am more a sympathizer with Surrealism than a Surrealist or a non-Surrealist. The movement is essentially a literary movement." What Gertrude Stein called "my 'wandering line' is probably the key characteristic of my work. But it wasn't the line that was wandering, it was me."[8] Seeking deeper inspiration, the erudite Masson turned to the somber, chthonic Greek myths. Sapphire points out the appearance, in the 1920s, of cemeteries, men trapped in underground chambers, cruel, erotic and violent combats, butchering and devouring of animals, and finally the massacre of women, which continued through the 1930s and into the early 1940s. [9]

A crisis in the Surrealist circle erupted in1929, precipitated by the question of the movement's relationship to the Communist Party; Masson left and eventually broke with the movement entirely.[10] He decided Surrealism was a closed system; and any system, as Nietzsche points out, lacks integrity. In France, during the 1930s, the Surrealists cultivated the Cult of the Erotic Female as revelation of truth and transcendence, and the only experience by which man could find final salvation. Masson twisted the arrow in the heart of this cult when he showed the world in all its impossibilities and spiritual nihilism. But Masson, that terrified and terrifying Cassandra, explored the imagery of his unconscious, consciously projected it as evocative subject matter and creatively opened the way to emotional and philosophic expression. His work was a dreadfully accurate depiction of the psychotic aspects of European life. Carolyn Lanchner, writing about Masson's 1938 drawing, Dream of a Future Desert (R?ve d'un future desert), contended that "this apocalyptic vision of the end of the world embodies the torment of the artist who saw in the Spanish Civil War and the rise of Hitler the sure portent of holocaust."[11]

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