
Ma belle de quatre mille jours, je bois tes doux baisers de cerise, ta fleur blanche me captive, engloutis-moi ! CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Ma belle de quatre mille jours, je bois tes doux baisers de cerise, ta fleur blanche me captive, engloutis-moi ! CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
The collection Oracles, subtitled The Biography of an Art, consists of unpublished poems written by Crowley between 1886 and 1903. It was first published in 1905, then included in Volume II of The Collected Works of Aleister Crowley (1906), where the editor mentions:
Concerning the title Crowley writes, “The sense is of dead leaves drifting in the dusty cave of my mind.”
My first choice in it is a strange love poem, both sensuous and grim. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
In a gruesome country called “the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland” reigns a horrible panic about children and sex. Anyone can come forward and accuse a dead person of the most bizarre form of sexual abuse, then he or she will automatically be believed and granted the “victim status,” an easy and quick way to gain public recognition. The discredited theories of “recovered memories,” which led to thousands of broken lives and shattered families in the USA, still enjoy public support in the “UK,” and are used to accuse ever more people of sexual abuse. Journals and the Internet have been filled with conspiracy theories about Lords, Members of Parliament, even ministers, involved in “paedophile conspiracies” to rape children in various ways, in particular by inserting tools into their anuses. This land has a distinctive institution, the gutter press, generally printed in “tabloid” format, whose so-called “journalists” can make a career by spreading the wildest nonsense. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
L’OCÉAN
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Le murmure des mers est plus triste la nuit.
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Antonine Coullet est née à La Roche-sur-Yon le 10 janvier 1892. À 9 ans elle commença à écrire de petits poèmes. Des adultes fascinés par ce don — pourtant pas si exceptionnel à cet âge — décidèrent en 1902 de publier ses vers. Ainsi parut début 1903 (mais achevé d’imprimer le 17 novembre 1902) son recueil Poésies d’une Enfant (71 pages), publié par Alphonse Lemerre à Paris. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
I present today a poem that celebrates the love of a young girl; it tells how the poet emerged from “a world of moan” and found happiness when he encountered his bride, the “young Eulalie”, a “radiant girl” who brightened his life. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Alfred Edgar Coppard (1878–1957) was an English author, best known for his short stories, but who also wrote poetry. After a youth spent in poverty, around 1920 he joined a literary group in Oxford, then published his first book in 1921; he continued writing and publishing throughout his life. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Count Eric Stenbock (1860–1895) is a lesser-known ‘Decadent’ writer. In his short lifetime, he published three short collections of poetry, Love, Sleep & Dreams (1881), Myrtle, Rue and Cypress (1883) and The Shadow of Death (1893), a collection of short stories, Studies of Death (1894), and a separate short story, “The Other Side: A Breton Legend,” in The Spirit Lamp (Vol. IV, No. 2 June 1893). CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
I give here the last poem in the collection Alice: An Adultery, inspired by Crowley’s passionate affair with Mary Alice Rogers, a married woman. Upon parting, the lovers solemnly vow to love each other all their life, till they die … and after death. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
In a previous post I narrated how in 1911 the Danish explorer and ethnologist Peter Freuchen, then aged 25, married a 13-year-old Inuit girl, Navarana. They had a son, Mequsaq, and a daughter, Pipaluk, born in 1916 and 1918 respectively. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Le long d’un sentier qui ondule comme une caresse, je découvre les fleurs les plus belles, celles que je n’avais jamais pu approcher. Doucement, tendrement, je m’approche et je m’incline pour respirer leur parfum puis déposer un baiser sur leurs frêles corolles.
Sous les fleurs se cache la poésie qui n’ose dire son nom, celle des sentiments suprêmement niés. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…