townkraeyerŠ:
> dFD:
>> non teneas aurum totum quod splendet ut aurum wrote:
>>> <heinzfield> wrote:
>>>> INTERESTING!
>>>>
>>>> http://www.blackandgoldforums.com
>>>>
>>>> http://www.blackandgoldforums.com/forums
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> "Van Helsing Devil Hunter" <vanhelsingdevilhunter@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
>>>> wrote in message
>>>> news:XlX9g.2664$y4.2552@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>>>>> "the Ka'aba was dedicated to al-Ilah, the High God of the pagan
>>>>> Arabs, despite the presiding effigy of Hubal. By the beginning of
>>>>> the seventh century, al-Ilah had become more im****tant than before
>>>>> in the religious life many of the Arabs. Many primitive religions
>>>>> develop a belief in a High God, who is sometimes called the Sky
>>>>> God...But they also carried on wor****pping the other gods, who
>>>>> remained deeply im****tant to them." (Karen Armstrong, Muhammad,
>>>>> (New York: San Francisco, 1992) p. 69.)
>>>>>
>>>
>>> All Believers, All Damned Unbelievers, All Enlighted Ones, I trust
>>> that a little poesy on the main subject in life shall enlighten
>>> Yours:
>>>
>>> Lovers of the Damned
>>>
>>> Under pale flickering lamps, deep in recesses
>>> Of lissome cu****ons of suave redolence,
>>> Hippolyta mused of the fierce caresses
>>> That raised the veils of her young innocence.
>>>
>>> Her gaze still ravaged by the storm, she eyed
>>> The distant sides of her once candid mind
>>> As a spent voyager who turns aside
>>> To view blue vistas he has left behind.
>>>
>>> The lazy tears in her lackluster glances,
>>> Her beaten stu****ous air, her weariness,
>>> Her aching arms drooping like futile lances,
>>> All served to foster her frail loveliness.
>>>
>>> Rapt with calm joy, Delphine, her lover, lay
>>> Prone at her feet; eyes blazing with delight,
>>> She was a strong beast gazing at the prey
>>> On which her teeth had marked their savage bite.
>>>
>>> Strong beauty knelt before frail beauty there -
>>> Superb, she savored with voluptuous mood
>>> The wine of triumph, and, as though in prayer,
>>> Her hands solicited sweet gratitude.
>>>
>>> She scanned her dupe's pale glance to find in it
>>> The muted hymn lust raises to the skies,
>>> And thankfulness, sublime and infinite,
>>> Which glances utter soft as long-drawn sighs.
>>>
>>> - "Hippolyta, what of this strange sweet thing?
>>> You need not sully your first roses now
>>> To brutal man as a burnt-offering
>>> His violent breath would wither on the bough.
>>>
>>> My kiss moves lightly as a May fly moves,
>>> Caressing the great limpid lakes at eve,
>>> But a man's kisses will dig furrowed grooves
>>> Such as huge carts or tearing plowshares leave.
>>>
>>> They will pass over you like stamping kine,
>>> Like ox or horse teams cruelly iron-shod,
>>> Hippolyta, turn your blest face toward mine, Y
>>> ou, dearer to my heart than self or God.
>>>
>>> Your eyes are stars across soft azure nights,
>>> One look from you and I shall lift extreme
>>> Veils to reveal the subtlest of delights,
>>> Cradling you gently in an endless dream."
>>>
>>> Hippolyta then raised her youthful head:
>>> - "No ingrate, I repent not in the least,
>>> Delphine, but I feel choked and ill," she said,
>>> "As after some galling nocturnal feast.
>>>
>>> I feel grim fears, I reel under their loads,
>>> While black battalions of sparse phantoms stride,
>>> Eager to lead me down dire, ****fting roads,
>>> Which bloody sky-rims block on every side.
>>>
>>> What could be strange in what we did tonight?
>>> Why all my worries and discomfitures?
>>> You call me "Angel" and I start with fright,
>>> And yet I feel my mouth straining for yours!
>>>
>>> Do not look at me thus, sister to whom
>>> By choice I pledged eternal adoration,
>>> Even were you a snare set for my doom
>>> And the first instrument of my damnation."
>>>
>>> Shaking her tragic mane, rapt, fatal-eyed,
>>> Stamping her foot as on the Tripod of
>>> The Oracle, Delphine, despotic, cried:
>>> - "Who dares to speak of hell when faced with love?
>>>
>>> Curst be the first vain dreamer who evolved
>>> A sterile code of laws and stupidly
>>> Thrilled by vexed problems that cannot be solved
>>> Sought to compound love and morality.
>>>
>>> He who would couple in a mystic mesh
>>> Coolness with heat and marry day with night
>>> Shall never warm his palsy-stricken flesh
>>> In that red sun which is our love's delight.
>>>
>>> Go find a stupid lover, do not fail
>>> To yield your chaste heart to his harsh requests,
>>> Then horrified, remorseful, ashen-pale,
>>> Return to me with bruised stigmatic breasts.
>>>
>>> Woman on earth can serve only one master!... "
>>> But the girl answered: "All my senses smart!
>>> I feel sharp premonitions of disaster,
>>> A pit yawns in me, and that pit, my heart!
>>>
>>> Volcano-hot and deep as nullity,
>>> Nothing will stay this monster's headlong flood
>>> Nor slake the thirst of that Eumenide
>>> Who, torch in hand, consumes his very blood.
>>>
>>> Let our drawn curtains screen us from alarms,
>>> And let our lassitude bring us full rest,
>>> I wish to die between your sinewy arms
>>> And find the cool of tombs upon your breast."
>>>
>>> Go down, go down, sad victims to the climes
>>> Of an eternal hell, all hope is dead;
>>> Down the unfathomed pit where all known crimes,
>>> Lashed by a wind no heaven ever bred,
>>>
>>> Boil to the fury of the tempest's blast.
>>> The goal of your desires shall turn to dust,
>>> Mad, raging shades, unsated to the last,
>>> Your very punishment born of your lust.
>>>
>>> No ray shall light the caverns of your shame,
>>> Fevered miasms filtering through the chinks
>>> Shall suddenly like lamps burst into flame,
>>> Steeping your bodies in a sweat that stinks.
>>>
>>> The bleak sterility of your lewd fires
>>> Heightens your thirst and tightens skins that sag,
>>> As the wild wind of lecherous desires
>>> Makes your flesh flap like a moth-eaten flag.
>>>
>>> Outcast and damned, wandering the far poles,
>>> Like wolves the frozen wilderness disparts,
>>> Follow your destiny, disordered souls,
>>> And flee the infinite that fills your hearts.
>>>
>>> - Jacques LeClercq, Flowers of Evil (Mt Vernon, NY: Peter Pauper
>>> Press, 1958)
>>
>> What a load of crap. Have you ever considered joining Het Klein
>> Fustigraeyerhoerenkastje?
>
> People sometimes become members of our college by invitation only.
> That is the way it was in the time when the ICONE ruled and it is
> and forever will stay that way.
>
> Monsieur LeClerq has not received an invitation from us.
>
Lava lamp relevance being?
XXX, dFD
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