Orgy of the Senses

bliss, is an overwhelming inpour of pleasant stimuli

especially, 

with senses wide open

the filters lowered

and the id allowed to taste of external universal information
emanating from the cosmic aura of the divine...

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the blissful art, thanks to Mattzy

Satan, The Flame

It can offer protection
But also devour lives
It can cook food
But also torture saints
It can give light
But also produce the darkest smoke
It can offer warmth in the harshest winter
But also drain the life out of flesh
Arguably man's greatest discovery,
Also his best metaphor of what Satan Is

Children, learn to master the flame

Because all fire comes from God
And God offers both
That which nourishes,
And that which impoverishes.
God begot Satan, so we might use It.
With Care.

Don't Worship
Don't be a Slave
But learn to use the Flame.

The flame, is already Inside of You

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the dark, sinister concept art courtesy of concept-drawing-girl

Lamentations, of A Soul in Search of God

God, what can I possibly know about God?
Nothing! Absolutely nothing!
God, what can I possibly believe about God?
Anything! Absolutely anything!

In this current state...
What should inform my sense of direction?
Wisdom from reason?
Wisdom from faith?
Can I even trust intuition if I can't trust its source?
I, Who am I?

It's all Relative!
By Faith as By Reason
It's all Relative!
Futility at its Best!
What really motivated Christ, Buddha, Nietzsche and the others?

And so,
I currently fight everything and everyone!
The Church, The Government, The Faculty
Hell! Am even at war with The Devil!
Where is anything to hold onto but Chaos?
Necessary Rebellion leaves me labelled an obstinate hipster!

Oh, and after all that,
There's still our classic mystery - God!
Imagine if there wasn't anything for us to relate to...
Imagine if we were just absolute - at once united with all existence,
Devoid of any variation and uncertainty.
It would be a boring existence, right?
My mind can't even begin to contemplate absolute simplicity and homogeneity as
The absolute reality underlying all existence, can it?
Oh God! You should've been merciful in your design
That you gave curiosity and a yearning for more to this thing called man.
Maybe, assuming lesser roles is our blessing,
A gift for us to deal with only that which we can accommodate...
Maybe, being God isn't actually any fun,
Maybe that's the Absolute Hell so sought after by those on the Left?
What could be more Individualistic, more Egotistic, more Satanic than
Controlling all the affairs of the Cosmos, keeping all where they should be
Judging, Creating and Destroying, Blessing and Cursing as One Desires...
Maybe that's why attempting to be God is Suicidal and Dark!
Maybe we should all just be like Children, said Christ
Content with being lead and accepting fate as it falls into place-
Embracing uncertainty and chaos!
Sobbing and laughing at existence every once in a while.

Oh, but you planted in us a desire...
You modelled me after yourself...
And so, in mine current state, the yearning to experience it all
To once again be united with my real Self
To once again assume the role I was modelled upon
To once again be God!
That seed's still in me, because you modelled me after yourself!

God, you are not a sadist, are you?
Why evade me so much?
Why cause us so much hatred and conflict concerning you?
Oh, please God, take this burden off my mind
And make known to me your true essence.
If mine mind must be momentarily removed from this limiting vessel of matter,
So mote it be.

Ultimately,
I wish, I desire
To experience you
United with you-
For me to not just know and believe in you,
But to Be
The True, Absolute and Mysterious God!
To Be One with You.

In my current, limited and mortal state,
Am only this unaware, but hopeful part of God
And I see much reason to lament this life!

The Waepons

Soldier, know the war

Polish thy waepons,

Sharpen thy blades-

Fear & Love

Darkness & Light

Ignore all else.

The battlefield is new

But the war is now old

Reason shall only startle the enemy

Emotion will topple them flat!

Soldier, lose not your mind

For even though you might stand

A thousand wounds to thy chest

You might not stand a single lethal blow to thy mind!

Brace yourself thus

For this is a war in spirit...

Music, Art, Speech, Woman and Wine

Not Science,

Symbols, Symbols and Symbols

Not Philosophy,

Television, News, Literature, Politics and Culture

Not Genetics,

Doctrine, Ritual, Church and Faith

Emotion and Faith

Not Reason and Proof.


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deep art thanks to ODELAYed

Fringe Spirituality

Grow ever stronger,

Leveraging the power of His strength!

God be your armour

In this age of Darkness

As reason alone is bound to fail.

For, human foes we fight not

But arcane principalities

In power, rulers of this dark world.

The air we breathe, the water we drink all stained with war

For, in every direction, we faceth 

Spirits that reign in the heavens as on earth

Let not ignorance ensnare you

That you take for granted the truths of the book.

Let not flesh limit you

That you ignore what's occult to your senses

Let not your awareness clog with materialism.

Nurture your higher-self

Pray in Spirit, 

With your subconscious mind

In all space and time,

So you might stay ever feeding on the essence of God

And thus be ever clad in armour

On these fringes of spiritual existence.


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the divine art courtsey of masiani's classical genius

In The Desert

I dream of that place

No distraction in sight, no face!

I dream of getting lost

To myself and to you, the world.

I dream of walking and thinking, talking and crying

I dream of roaming under stars,

Calling on GOD, being called by gods.

I dream of 9 days and 9 nights

Of looking where there's nothing to see

Of listening where it's silent than death

Of holding what merely slips away

Of never ending horizons!

I dream of walking barefoot

Of transcending matter and these pathetic ways

Of beholding vanity in its majesty

Of finally understanding who I AM

Of reuniting with who I AM

I dream of seeking TRUTH in some desert,

Some day!

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the magnificent scene courtesy of andymumford

chwezi prega-ma.g.ick

mother is catholic

devout, with fear of maria

mother is chwezi

an elite of the herb

with remnant recipes

of high chwezi mysteries

with which i was bathed

as she enchanted me with song

as i suckled her breast

in a herb in a herb

a green green herb

is a verb is a verb

a clean clean verb

with a power with a power

a deep deep power

am a god am a god

a real real god

promptly attend prenatal

so the system stays blind

they will pray in the churches and sing white hymns

but there's a truth in the hearts of all mothers black

the will to evolve their sons in might

never speaking to an ear of the craft as a craft

as each expectant girl, fortunate to meet her seers

gets her motherly initiation

every morning every morning

performing rit.u.als of her forest

with the most blessed herbs

that evolve the true spirit across generations

to forever grow close to the likeness of Ruhanga

the true true Ruhanga.

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the lovely natural shot by Nature-16

The Alkemy is Complete

And there shall be things that can be expressed in the language of finite beings,
And there shall be things that can't be expressed in the language of finite beings
The things that can be expressed are the things that are the left-overs of our grand feast
That which can't be expressed is the gist.

And so, I took the last of my K
Bathed in the Oil of Pure Will
I held inside of me the key, and so I fell supine
And opened the door to the God Within.

Memories fading fast
Things I should share at last
We are One,
There's only One God
A God so immense It evades all description
The Will of God is this-
To Manifest All True Will
And the Essence of God is-
To Be All That Can Be.
God's Will is To Be God
God's Essence is To Be God.

And so,
I partake in this manifestation of God's Will
That the things I will shall come to Be,
Because God.

In Death is to be found the Path,
K is thy Key
The Alkemy is complete.

Ritual of The First Dance

The first woman in all of this terrestrial realm

Desperate for companionship

Having wondered throughout gaia without finding one of her own

Having witnessed the manner in which the other beings of the realm,

Coupled their anima and animus

And channeled their spirits into the higher realms

She wanted to find her mate, 

She wanted to dance...

He was preoccupied with his hunger for sovereignty

He was hunting down the beasts of the wilderness

He was beating himself against rocks for not being able to return to the higher realms

He was desperate for a path, but didn't have a clue, what The Infinite One had already provided

In a shadow he had not yet bothered to join with

She was dark and chocolate

She was with that dark and long mane

She was holding fruits in her chest that'd have nourished any other being on that realm

She was so divine in beauty

She was so energized in that moment, that her gravity invented lust at all realms, even from the archs

And the Arch of Music was enslaved by her body and spirit

He fell from the higher realms into this realm

To join in with her shadow

And perform the Ritual of The First Dance on mankind

The waist was gyrating in a rhythm any serpentine princesses would envy

She was thrusting her hands up into the ether

Her etheric body conjuring up the ultimate jungle roar of power

Her mate to-be was surely bound to notice this challenge to his dominance instincts

And so he came to face her in the dance...

That dance that gave us that African shamanic ritual

That dance that aroused life in all - to dance to the drum

That dance, oozing with arcane delights and promises of sexual union

That dance, that only ritual, in which the powers of the One Law,

Couple in that blissful marriage of wills, to channel man to his divine realms

In that dance of creation...

That dance, that revelation of the substance of the One.

And so, with the Spirit of the One upon me,
I let go of my fears, and dancing in unison with Babalon
Was blessed with our first moonschild-
Putting into motion, the path that'd return me to the higher realms.


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mystical psychedelic soundscape from Minds of Infinity.
magical art courtesy of ravaneli

Bloody Green Paper

The Soul Laments at my Philosophy of Money
The Body begs me unceasingly to fornicate with Her

It just hit me
On the day the Bank closed it's doors on me
That without money, purity of mind is within reach

How clouded I've allowed myself to get
Failing to quiet and think, in the face of my next "Billion Dollars"!

Imagine a trade performed on sole basis of one's intrinsic gem
Abandoning dependence on void figures and fancy green paper
Am more than certain, money would make man a higher being.