by: Aleister Crowley (1875-1947)
- URN back
from safety, in my love abide,
- Whose lips are warm as when, a virgin bride
- I clung to thee ashamed and very glad,
- Whose breasts are lordlier for the pain they had,
- Whose arms cleave closer than thy spouse's own!
- Thy spouse--O lover, kiss me, and atone!
- All my veins burst for love, my ripe breasts beat
- And lay their bleeding blossoms at thy feet!
- Spurn me no more! O bid these strangers go;
- Turn to my lips till their cup overflow;
- Hurt me with kisses, kill me with desire,
- Consume me and destroy me with the fire
- Of blasting passion straining at the heart,
- Touched to the core by sweetness, that smart
- Bitten by fiery snakes, whose poisonous breath
- Swoons in the midnight, and dissolves to death!
- * * * * * *
- Turn to me, touch me, mix thy very breath
- With mine to mingle floods of fiery dew
- With flames of purple, like the sea shot through
- With golden glances of a fiercer star.
- Turn to me, bend above me; you may char
- These olive shoulders with an old-time kiss,
- And fix thy mouth upon me for such bliss
- Of sudden rage rekindled. Turn again,
- And make delight the minister of pain,
- And pain the father of a new delight,
- And light a lamp of torture for the night
- Too grievous to be borne without a cry
- To rend the very bowels of the sky
- And make the archangel gasp--a sudden pang,
- Most like a traveller stricken by the fang
- Of the black adder whose squat head springs up,
- A flash of death, beneath a cactus cup.
- Ah turn, my bosom for thy love is cold;
- My arms are empty, and my lips can hold
- No converse with thee far away like this.
- O for that communing pregnant with a kiss
- That is reborn when lips are set together
- To link our souls in one desirous tether,
- And weld our very bodies into one.
- * * * * * *
- The first cool kiss, within the water cold
- That draws its music from some bubbling well,
- Looks long, looks deadly, looks desirable,
- The touch that fires, the next kiss, and the whole
- Body embracing, symbol of the soul,
- And all the perfect passion of an hour.
- Turn to me, pluck that amaranthine flower,
- And leave the doubtful blossoms of the sky!
- You dare not kiss me! dare not draw you nigh
- Lest I should lure you to remain! nor speak
- Lest you should catch the blood within your cheek
- Mantling. You dared enough--so long ago!--
- When to my blossom body clean as snow
- You pressed your bosom till desire was pain,
- And--then--that midnight! you did dare remain
- Though all my limbs were bloody with your mouth
- That tore their flesh to satiate its drouth,
- That was not thereby satisfied! And now
- A pallid coward, with sly, skulking brow,
- You must leave Sodom for your spouse's sake.
- Coward and coward and coward; who would take
- The best flower of my life and leave me so,
- Still loving you--Ah! weak--and turn to go
- For fear of such a God! O blind! O fool!
- To heed these strangers and to be the tool
- Of their smooth lies and monstrous miracles.
- O break this bondage and cast off their spells!
- Five righteous! Thou a righteous man! A jest!
- A righteous man--you always loved me best,
- And even when lured by lips of wanton girls
- Would turn away and sigh and touch my curls,
- And slip half-conscious to the old embrace.
- And now you will not let me see your face
- Or hear your voice or touch you. Ah! the hour!
- He moves. Come back, come back, my life's one flower!
- Come back. One kiss before you leave me. So!
- Stop--turn--one little kiss before you go;
- It is my right--you must. Oh no! Oh no!
POEMS BY ALEISTER CROWLEY
"Lot" is reprinted from
The Soul of Osiris. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner
and Co., 1911.