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ALEISTER CROWLEY

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Everything posted by ALEISTER CROWLEY

  1. Thou my frenzy and my fire, Lamp of living loveliness!
  2. One kiss, like snow, to slip, Cool fragrance from thy lip To melt on mine ; One kiss, a white-sail ship To laugh and leap and dip Her brows divine ~ A.C.
  3. Many thanks to both gbauer1 (& JEMS) and Strider. Earlier this week, I stumbled upon on Strider's 5-year long thread detailing his adventures in LA attending the '77 concerts. I enjoyed reading it all. The I stumbled upon gbauer1's efforts to share his 6/21/77 tape which I am enjoying listening to now. 'Tis been a good week of stumbling for ole Alick.
  4. “I am the Snake that giveth Knowledge & Delight and bright glory, and stir the hearts of men with drunkenness. To worship me take wine and strange drugs whereof I will tell my prophet, & be drunk thereof! They shall not harm ye at all. It is a lie, this folly against self. The exposure of innocence is a lie. Be strong, o man! lust, enjoy all things of sense and rapture: fear not that any God shall deny thee for this.” –The Book of the Law, II:22
  5. All the old paintings on the tombs, They do the sand dance, Don't you know? - A.C.
  6. Folks started trickling off here after the '07 Reunion. Some started got banned. I couldn't log in for the longest time. I am not sure what happened to Hermit, Del and Scratch as well. Haven't talk to them in many years. I come across the others on occasion. Sadly, Grampa Levee passed away just over a year ago. Funny I was wondering about you the other day and I came back you had posted. Hope all is well. ... whoopsies ... The Mage has got to get back in character... Do what thou wilt! A.C.
  7. Dearest 'Bender, Hello. Nice to see you passing through as I. Recall you as the thinking-man's conservative. Cheers, A.C.
  8. She is it, she, that found me In the morphia honeymoon; With silk and steel she bound me, In her poisonous milk she drowned me, Even now her arms surround me, Stifling me into her swoon ...
  9. Her mouth is red and her breasts are fair and her loins are full of fire, And her lust is strong as a man is strong in the heat of her desire.
  10. MOST AWESOME TEA PARTY NEWS, PAGEMEISTER! On a related note ...
  11. Breaks "Break, break, break At the foot of thy stones, O Sea! And I would that I could utter The thoughts that arise in me!" - A.C.
  12. Agreed. There ain't no denying AC's work was great influence on the music we're all fans of. I have come across many bridges between Crowley's poetry and Zeppelin music. Have read of the anthology Ambergris. And certainly the linkage between Page and Crowley is a far more relevant discussion than the trivial talk of the band's day-to-day comings and goings and shite. Cheers, A.C.
  13. Dear Shaktiananda, Perhaps "Wickedest Man In The World" Perhaps "Great Wild Beast 666" But just simply calling me "Bad" is a slight understatement. Be gone! Your Little Sunshine, ~ 777 Lest our banter dissapoints the regulars ... The Song Dance a measure ....Of the tiniest whirls! Shake out your treasure ....Of cinnamon curls! Tremble with pleasure ....O wonder of girls! Ignorance is bliss, ....And bliss is rest, Give me a kiss ....If you love me best! Hold me like this ....With my hand on your breast!
  14. SO TIRED - Ozzy Osbourne http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5P4uir-GSVg Time has come to say goodbye I know it's gonna make you cry But you belong to another my love And half a love that just isn't enough I am so tired And I just can't wait around for you I am so tired And I always thought we would see it through I've waited all this time for you Believed your promises were true I keep believing that you mean what you say You'll leave tomorrow, now tomorrow's today And I often sit and wonder why You're not with me tonight I stayed at home remaining true While you were out with you know who I am so tired And I just can't wait around for you I am so tired And I always thought we would see it through.
  15. That is a beautiful photograph on your profile!

  16. Happy 1908,

    O Child of the Sun.

  17. For Sunchild, Secrets from old Nanny Crowley's mess hall ... Corned Beef Hash Yield: Makes 4 servings Ingredients: 2 large russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon black pepper 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter or margarine 1 large onion, chopped 1/2 pound corned beef, finely chopped 1 tablespoon prepared horseradish 1/4 cup whipping cream 4 poached or fried eggs 4 grams حشيش (only if desired). Preparation: 1. Boil potatoes in 10-inch skillet over high heat. Reduce heat to low; simmer 6 minutes and drain to colander. 2. Cook onions in butter over medium-high heat 5 minutes in skillet. Stir in corned beef, horseradish and potatoes; mix well. Press down mixture with spatula to flatten into compact layer. 3. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and حشيش . 3. Reduce heat to low. Drizzle cream evenly over mixture. Cook 10 to 15 minutes. Turn mixture with spatula; pat down and continue cooking 10 to 15 minutes or until bottom is well browned. Served with 1 poached or fried egg. 4. Imbibe. 5. Envisage. 6. Stargaze.
  18. ROSE of this WORLD In lecherous longing and knavery, The secret spell of my Rose's slavery. By her unbound Beauty, I was taken. In the raging and raving Abyss of the physical craving Hallucinations of 'love;' I was mistaken. Imbibe what thou wilt, - Alick C.
  19. The Legend of Absinthe Apollo, who mourned at Hyacinthe's demise, Refused to concede this victory to Death. Much better that the soul, adept in transformation, Had to find a holy alchemy for Beauty. Thus with his celestial hand he drained and crushed The subtlest harvest of the garden goddess, The broken bodies of the herbs yielding a golden essence From which we measure out our first drop -- of Absinthe! In lowly hovels and in glittering courts, Alone, in pairs, drink up this potion of desire! For it is sorcery -- as one might say -- When the pale opal wine ends all misery, Opens Beauty's most intimate sanctuary -- - Bewitches my heart, and exalts my soul in ecstasy! - A.C.
  20. Keep always this dim corner for me, that I may sit while the Green Hour glides a proud pavine Time. For I am no longer in the city accursed, where Time is horsed on the white gelding Death, his spurs rusted with blood. - A.C.
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