The Graveyard of Dead Girls

THE GRAVEYARD OF DEAD GIRLS


These gifts are not given, they have
to be taken. Things come
when you’re ready.
Slowly
day after day
new treasures arrive from
the summerlands. From the courts of

morning. From the magical lands
of longing. The southlands
of the sun. Two
shalt nots

are now needed:
never to open the
forbidden drawer again, never

again to touch the red velvet
box. This is the first thing.
The second, this:
never
again to crave
that delicious poison,
never again to hanker for

those addictive toxins, never
to go climbing again
the mountains of
madness,
never again
to wander in the waste
lands of lust, panting for shadows.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Succuba Singing

Weep no more, dry your eyes!
Let me show you where peace lies:
In my pussy lies your prize!

Spider, spider, weave for me
Your web of black iniquity
So I can snare my victims three—
Honour, Truth and Dignity!

Laughing, lilting, see me go
Where the girls of summer blow
In the gardens we all know.

In the gardens of delight
Where nobody laughs tonight
But the loathers of daylight.

O In is out and Out is in—
And where we end, there we begin.
The downward road snakes back above
For Evil is the bite of Love.

O aren’t you sick of all my lies?
Aren’t you weary of being wise?
Come, find peace between my thighs!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To Francesca, my praises (Baudelaire translation)

To Francesca, my praises

¶

See, I practise a new art
As my angel plays her part
In the desert of my heart.

Now be crowned with garlands gay
Lovely woman fair and fey
Who washes all my sins away.

Let me drink oblivion from
Your sweet mouth as I succumb
To your kisses as they come!

When I trod the path of shame,
When I did things you might blame—
Then, my angel, then you came!

See, my star of shining light,
In the wreck of my soul’s night,
Me, on your altar laying my heart.

Source of every good and sum
Of eternal youth, ah come
Let me sing who now plays dumb.

What was foul, you burnt to bits.
That
was crooked: now it fits.
My will was weak: you strengthened it.

In my hunger, you the inn;
In the dark, my lamp; and in
Your chaste arms, an end to sin.

Add your strength to mine and give
Some sweeter scented additive—
O balm of Gilead, in me live!

Let your chastity confound
My lustful loins and there abound—
Strew your holy water round.

O Lady, be my Golden Bowl!—
My sacred bread, my wine, my soul!—
My fleeting youth, my Beautiful!

*          *          *

Baudelaire’s Franciscae mea laudes
(Freely translated from the Latin).

Dancing Serpent (Baudelaire translation)

“Those eyes like frozen jewels…”

Dancing Serpent

Dear lazybones, how I adore
You in your shining skin!—
It has the shimmer of shot silk
Or frosted hyaline.

Upon your matted mane of hair
As rank as bitter rue
An undulating sea of scents
Wafts billows brown and blue.

And I am drifting like a ship
In quest of distant skies
Dreamily . . .  there oceans roll
And morning breezes rise!

In your blank eyes there’s nothing sweet
Or bitter to behold:
Those eyes like frozen jewels chipped
From iron and pure gold.

*          *          *

Baudelaire: Le Serpent qui danse
http://fleursdumal.org/poem/125

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Cat (Baudelaire translation)

THE CAT

Just see her padding through my brain,
As if it were her furnished flat:
This frisky, fascinating Cat!
Were she to mew, the low-pitched strain

Of her voice, softer than softest sighs,
Would scarce be audible; but her
Purr’s the thing, her husky purr—
Her purr, that’s where her secret lies!

Her velvet voice, it filters down
Into the darkrooms of my mind;
It thrills me like a poetry line
Or liqueur that I love to drain.

It soothes my sorrows and it lulls
My soul to sleep with ecstasy.
To say the thing it wants to say,
It has no need for words at all.

My heart’s the perfect instrument
For her to play soft music on.
Her rich and vibrant undertone,
Her royal purr’s my ravishment.

The sound you make, mysterious Cat—
O noble Cat so strange of mood!—
Cat in whose breast dark angels brood!—
I’ve never heard a note like that!

2

From her proud pelt all goldenbrown
So sweet a fragrance flows, its balm
Soaks through me as I run my palm
Once up her silken flank, and down.

Familiar spirit at my side!—
Presiding judge and inspiration!—
Queen of delicious domination!—
Are you a goddess in disguise?

Now when my eyes draw back again,
Back from this kitty I adore,
To look within myself and pore
Upon the map of my own brain,

I look and see with wild surprise
Flash back at me from lucent pools
Two blazing lamps, two burning jewels—
The fire opals of her eyes!

The Cat: Baudelaire
http://fleursdumal.org/poem/146

Baudelaire’s ‘Hymn to Satan’ — Darkmoon translation

 

HYMN  TO  SATAN

O you among all angels consummate,
God stripped of  honor, God betrayed by fate,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

O Prince of exiles, you who suffered wrong,
Who still undaunted rise up ever strong,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

You, lord and master of the occult art,
Wise healer of the harrowed human heart,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

You who, through love, beneath malignant skies,
Give lepers their first taste of paradise,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

You who, in teaching girls to act like whores,
Bring them to rags and syphilitic sores,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

You who, on a tall building’s outer ledge,
Propel the sleepwalker toward the edge,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

You who, to soothe his soul, inspires man
To make the best gunpowder that he can,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

You who, with death, your darling in delusion,
Invented Hope—that beautiful illusion—
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

O refuge of all who in God’s angry eyes
Have failed the entrance test to paradise,
Satan, have pity on my long despair!

Glory and praise to thee, Satan on high
Who reigned in heaven once, yet vanquished lie
In deepest hell now—plunged in dreams and silence!

Grant that my soul rest one day in thy presence:
There where the Tree of Knowledge spreads its shade,
Building a brave new temple round your head.

RELATED VERSE: DARKMOON’S “DEMONIC POEMS”

[1]  DEMON WORLDS
https://www.darkmoon.me/2010/demon-worlds/

youtube presentation: Demon Worlds

[2]  SATANICA
https://www.darkmoon.me/2010/the-succubus/

[3]  SAROTH THE DEMON
https://www.darkmoon.me/2010/saroth/

[4]  HELLVIXEN
https://www.darkmoon.me/2010/hellvixen/

[5]  VAMPIRE NIGHTS
https://www.darkmoon.me/2011/vampire-nights-by-anonyma/

Comments welcome



Dying slowly

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Dying Slowly

Come, keep your heart from breaking
And let your lips be dumb
And learn to die a little
Until I cruel come.

Oh try and smile, my darling,
And learn the ancient art
Of plucking out the dagger
I’ve plunged into your heart.

The Gardens of Yearning

THE  GARDENS  OF  YEARNING


You’ve heard of the gardens of yearning
Where rivers of shining crystal
Flow, and there in the courts of morning
The dead walk again, immortal.

There the boys all have laughing eyes
And they peep from the leaves of trees
At the angels rustling shy thighs
In their summerland sorceries.

There the angels are all young girls
Pubescent in bud and in bloom
And their eyes are like moths of darkness
And their mouths are like fruits of doom.

How they dance all night under Sirius—
By the moondrugged lakes how they dance!—
Now deathless, divinely delirious,
Round and round in a toxic trance!

And one day they wake up all weeping
In the cold harsh light of the dawn
And the dream has fled and there’s nothing—
No Xanadu, no Avalon!

And then with a shock they discover
In the hideous light of the sun
That out of the mists of Maya
The webs of the world have been spun.

O the sun’s made of cocaine powder
And the moon’s a mad butterfly
And everyone’s guilty of murder—
And only God’s got an alibi!

Now the boys are all bent and broken
And the girls have gum in their eyes
And the moon of magic has fallen
Into the dead sea where it lies.

 


 



From sparkling windows

From sparkling windows see
The spires of the New
Jerusalem a-shining.
Here’s no iniquity
To vex or trouble you
Or mar your soul’s refining.

From smutted windows see
The towers of Sodom rise,
The mean streets of Gomorrah.
Here’s no divinity
To undefile your eyes
Or save you from tomorrow.

The Gybroch

THE GYBROCH: A sex demon; a real entity of the hellworlds, a type of incubus or succubus who often assumes human form and eventually devours its caged victims after raping them a thousand times.

As I walked by the Sea of Longing,
The lost sea of Kasmere,
The gybroch flew to my shoulder

And gibbered in my ear.

My blood ran cold when I saw her,
Her long hair lank with brine,
Her wintry eyes like sunless seas,
Her mouth a thin red line.

The moon swooned sickly in heaven
As she bound me to her breast
And turned her wild smoke-pistol eyes
To the Isles of the Unblest.

Her wings spread wide and up we flew
Into the black abyss.
Her grip was hard, her claws were cold,
Her breath a leper’s kiss.

Terror and vertigo! and then—
Down to her wailing castle
On the island of Lalára
In the Lake of Ice Crystal.

She kept me in a hanging cage
Bound with a rubied chain
And brought me strange white breads to eat
And goblets of rare rain.

I will not let you go, she growled,
Until you learn to dream
Of me alone, and be my slave
In the City of the Scream!

I shall keep you here forever
In the queendom of my crime,
My puppet and my plaything
Until the end of time!

You will learn to find a pleasure
In the deepest pits of pain
Till there’s nothing but a howling
Hole of darkness in your brain!

She climbed into my raging cage
And scourged me with her hair
And flung me the blood red rose
Of her cruel mouth to wear

And proffered the poisoned apples
Of her breasts with silken sighs
And turned on the pleasure fountains
Between her feathered thighs,

Until the bubble in her burst
Like a brain round a pistol
On the island of Lalára
In the Lake of Ice Crystal.

Now the moon hangs high in heaven—
Or else it hangs in hell!—
Like the moon in a madman’s painting
Seen from a padded cell.

Lower than this

“Lower than this…you cannot fall.”

Lower than this

lower than this
you cannot fall
the writing is
upon the wall

soon time will tell
if you can see
a sadder hell
than this you be

than this you are
than this become
who once were star
and now are scum

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Monkey on Your Back

THE  MONKEY  ON  YOUR  BACK


Who sprinkles pepper in my pot?
Upon my wall who laid this crack?
Who deals my cards, who writes my plot?
How comes this monkey on my back?

— The monkey on your back is you.
The lurker on the landing is
Your nemesis. You know it’s true
You made the killer and his kiss.

Agent provocateur of sin,
You built the mad menagerie:
The bars you clang, the cage you’re in
You forged in your mind factory.

Never, never, never again!
And yet the horror’s back, it’s here.
The maggot festers in the brain,
The monkey gibbers in your ear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

youtube presentation: The Monkey on Your Back

Magic Kingdom

I shed my tears for the shining
rills of Zion into rage
with skulls of myrrh and scorpions
in the sleep of kings in a cage
for I am the sun Tipháreth
and I lick their wounds for a wage
I shed my tears for the aching
stars of the young into stones
with eyes of ancient longing
in the city of sad saloons
for I am the lust of the angels
and I seed their suns and moons
I shed my tears for the endless
aeons of blood into horn
with webs of winter and summer
in the trance of the yet unborn
for I am the snake of Eden
and I give the rose its thorn
I shed my tears for the wounded
wailing for wombs into wings
with requiem bells for ringing
in the courts of the raving kings
for I am the doomed till the trumpets
turn all their rags into rings
I shed my tears for the Always
garden of grief without God
with suns and moons of Carmel
on the feast of the bleeding rod
for I am the Tree of Raptures
and I grow by red seas of blood
I shed my tears for the angels
weary of pleasures and pains
with eyes and tongues of terror

in the song of the singing drains
for I am the damned till your praises
wash out the world and its stains

Solitaire

“I clang the bells of madness until morning…”

Solitaire

Lying on red satin sheets, with long black hair,
My lilyscented lover Solitaire!
Her mouth lascivious and her eyes aslant,
My succuba so ripe and ravissante!

And so I abseil down from paradise
Into the bed of Satan, lord of lies,
Where my vampiric sweetheart Solitaire
Lies with vermilion mouth and raven hair.

My demon lover lapped in lilyskin
(Her eyes like smokeholes) gently sucks me in
To the sweet darkness where there is no sin.

I brush her neckbone with my burning lips
I froll her nipples with my fingertips
I stroke her silk and make her velvet wet
I slip my tongue into her cool cachette
I fly her on my broomstick to the moon
I bring her to the City of the Swoon.

And my dark angel drowns me all night long
In pools of pleasure where we’re always young.
I cry for beauty, all I find is burning!
I clang the bells of madness until morning.

And I have fished and caught in the abyss
The Beast that was, and is not, and yet is!

And She has given me ad nauseam
New wounds, new swoons, and made me what I am!

Padding behind me soft, à pas-de-loup,
The devil whispers, “Madam, don’t you know,
God’s a leaf in the wind . . . It’s I who blow!”


Nevermore

 

NEVERMORE

Nevermore, nevermore!—
Old suns and moons of summer or
Childhood’s lost lands, youth’s shining shore.

Endure, endure.
Here lies the cure:
Your mind be clean, your heart be pure!

Learn the lesson, rind and core—
Then ship to your
Calm blue sea and sunkissed shore.