I present again an erotic poem from White Stains. For Aleister Crowley, love is passionate, intense, erotic, but always short-lived, as he repeats “we must part, and love must die.” CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Ô roses de sang, fleurs immaculées, vos jeux innocents dévorent mon cœur.
Jolie petite étoile aux quatre mille nuits,
M’offrant un beau visage où un sourire luit,
La sublime fleur bleue scintillant dans vos yeux,
Voilà le délice d’amour le plus précieux.
Aleister Crowley (1875–1947) was an English occultist and writer, but foremost a libertine and a very bizarre man. Beside writing strange books, he created cults of which he was the guru. The British popular press called him “the wickedest man in the world.” CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Les mots écarlates de l’amour, les couleurs de la passion, nos cœurs enflammés… nous ne dormirons pas ce soir, le crépuscule éveillera l’oiseau du désir. Vole, vole éternellement, désir ailé.
Ma belle, mon amie, douce fleur de lune,
A connu trois mille sept cent cinquante nuits.
M’offrant son sourire, doux baiser de prune,
Elle m’a regardé, voici qu’elle me suit.
For years, Dan and Mary Peterson were inseparable. Then at age 80, Mary went to hospital for a heart condition, and she died there after 35 days. Taken by surprise, 82-year-old Dan fell into a deep depression. For six months he didn’t know what to do with himself. Day after day, he spent time staring out at the squirrels in his garden and remembering his wife’s favourite flower: white roses. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Suppose that you manage a website devoted to dogs, discussing everything about their life, health and happiness, giving advice on how to groom them, advertising dog events and contests, all with beautiful photographs of nice dogs on each page. Then someone comes and says that you hyper-sexualize dogs, that your site is a zoophile’s paradise. You will rightfully reply that the perversion lies only in that person’s mind, as your interest in dogs is friendly but not sexual, and you just want to share it with others. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Je suis pervenche, vous m’aimez…
Petites hanches, bien formées,
Poitrine plate, c’est bien mieux,
Reflet d’agate dans mes yeux…
Prunelle glabre, admirée,
Replis cinabre, désirés.
Les nuits des bouges, soirs cinglants,
C’est l’amour rouge, l’amour blanc.
The explorer and ethnologist Peter Freuchen (1886–1957) spent a large part of his life in Northern Greenland, exploring it in depth, trading with Inuits and making friends with them. He even married an Inuit girl, Navarana. Living in the most hostile environment in earth, Inuits held a very pragmatic point of view on many matters. In particular, they considered marriage as an economic and family association between a man and a woman, based on solidarity, but without any commitment to conjugal fidelity in relation to love or sex; often men lent their wives to other men, or borrowed their wives, or swapped wives with them, for purely utilitarian motives; they could also see their wives prostituting themselves to Europeans as a good business. Such exchanges were generally decided by husbands; as hunters feeding their family, they considered themselves as superior to women. Inuit men were basically macho, proud of their manly ways. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
“I Want a Little Girl” is a famous jazz song, ranking 360 among jazz standards according to JazzStandards.com. Written by Billy Moll and composed by Murray Mencher in 1930, it has for over 70 years been interpreted by many famous musicians, in various musical styles: jazz, soul, country and blues. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Ce poème défend la pureté de la nudité. Mais les ignorants n’y verront que la “sexualisation” des jeunes filles.
La pureté est toujours nue,
Nue car pleine de retenue ;
Mais personne ne le comprend,
On la couvre de vêtements.
