Poets and Lovers exists since three years, having been through many difficulties. One year ago, our host provider in the UK, after repeated persecution by the police, was railroaded into a guilty plea (for possessing or having possessed material totally legal in any other country in Western Europe), then his server was forcibly closed down after a police raid. Fortunately, we soon found another host provider in another country. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Depuis deux ans et demi, la poésie de l’amour anime ce blog tué puis ressuscité, entouré de puissantes forces hostiles, mais soutenu par des amis dénués de pouvoir, souvent cachés. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
After two years and a half, Poets and Lovers is alive and going on, surrounded by hostile forces. It survived the persecution of its first website provider by the UK police, which finally led to closing down the websites that he hosted. We have now a new provider, aiming to host several art websites suffering from censorship, starting with those suppressed in the UK: Poets and Lovers, Pigtails in Paint, and the sites of Graham Ovenden and of Garage Press. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
In my last semi-annual editorial, I described the police persecution of our British website provider, culminating in his guilty plea. The administration of the websites was taken over by his son, who was forced to close them down in May, following a further police raid with a threat of confiscation of his servers, as well as a blackmail by British Telecom over his security clearance. The heart of the matter is explained in the latest Pigtails in Paint editorial: the latter website, as well as the blog of Graham Ovenden, had uncovered the misconduct of the UK police in the Ovenden frame-up trial and conviction. Corrupt cops must protect their careers by censoring the exposure of their treachery, leading them to further acts of abuse. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
British Telecom has ordered the execution of Pïgtails in Paint and Agapeta. You can write me.
Poets and Lovers vit depuis deux ans, fleur fragile au futur incertain, soumise aux menaces d’un environnement hostile. Elle peut mourir, mais elle renaîtra alors certainement. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
“First of all, you must never speak of anything by its name—in that country. So, if you see a tree on a mountain, it will be better to say ‘Look at the green on the high’; for that’s how they talk—in that country. And whatever you do, you must find a false reason for doing it—in that country. If you rob a man, you must say it is to help and protect him: that’s the ethics—of that country. And everything of value has no value at all—in that country. You must be perfectly commonplace if you want to be a genius—in that country. And everything you like you must pretend not to like; and anything that is there you must pretend is not there—in that country. And you must always say that you are sacrificing yourself in the cause of religion, and morality, and humanity, and liberty, and progress, when you want to cheat your neighbour—in that country.”
“Good heavens!” cried Iliel, “are we going to England?”
— Aleister Crowley, Moonchild (1917), Chapter XX
Poets and Lovers has been living for two years, in an epoch where freedom of art is increasingly under attack. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Voici dix-huit mois que vit Poets and Lovers, toujours debout, là où d’autres tombent ou s’endorment. Il vit, brûle et grandit, se nourrissant de secrets… secrets intimes, secrets enfouis et partagés de toute l’humanité. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Under lockdown, many people lived through Internet, physically separated from the outer world, and regular readers of this blog were probably more assiduous in their visits, waiting eagerly for the next post scheduled three days after the preceding one. Accordingly, floating in a virtual world, I spent much time searching the Web and preparing new posts.
Meanwhile, for many, love, deprived from physical contact, living at distance, became an ideality, filling dreams and desires.
My Love and I took hands and swore,
Against the world, to be
Poets and lovers evermore,
To laugh and dream on Lethe’s shore.— Michael Field (Katharine Bradley and Edith Cooper), “It was deep April, and the morn,” in Underneath the Bough (1893)
Poets and Lovers exists since one year and a half, it was born privately on March 17, 2019, becoming public on the 20th. This its 218th post. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Poets and Lovers est né il y a un an. L’œuf pondu le 17 mars 2019 fut éclos trois jours plus tard. Le phénix fait maintenant entendre sa voix tous les trois jours, et voici son 157e chant. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
