mardi 31 octobre 2017

Bubons, Furoncles & autres Kystes



   Certes l'abominable érosion se propage, tel un ruisseau en fleuve qui inonde, noyant le bien le beau et ce qui était véridique. S'étale à travers tous espaces sur maintes plans où d'aire en aire le chronique cryptomane se gangrène! 

   Une plaie pour un jeu. Une négligence éthique devenue coutume de moeurs! Le torride tremblant et névralgique; la fièvre de l'aveugle vanité qui désagrège. Le mensonge et la perte de l'arrogant, les pauvres victimes de la société, des épaves raciales & difformes qu'on a mises sur piédestal!

   Quoi comme cirque pour hypocrites ces parasites en réplique d'exemples indéfinis. Cela fait frissonner le désastre irrécusable. La mélancolie. La fleur délaissée. L'Enfer paradisiaque pour tous, sinon crève avec ton honneur, anonyme.

   Mais ces yeux se détournent allègrement, alors de se détourner ô quelle joie ô combien je méprise dès lors le faux semblant de ce qui est pitoyable, dépourvu de dignité!

   Et c'est ma loyauté qui est pur dédain. Le sourire, le sourire de l'Ange qui aux confins de l'abysse contemple le coeur teutonique épris. Il voit son office parmi des cierges au Ciel de l'Empyrée dont le sang du Seigneur s'éthère. 

   Ce, pendant que la pierre blanche aux dorures s'en va avec une érosion en rire!

20/88


  

    

mercredi 25 octobre 2017

Le Gentilhomme d'Extraction Céleste


   ...au coeur de ce qui manifeste, le meilleur disparu enfin, vers le vide d'ici. Incompris & insaisissable; éteint.

   Qui rêve d'architecture avec du feldspath qui sans forme contraint. Ni feux verts ni rouges: ni idéologie qui malmène brusque, la hantise de cette faille béante qui règle chaque tic-tac vers l'encéphale de l'intellect!

   Languide ou tiède. Borné jusqu'à l'étroitesse, étouffant les liens internes illuminés par le puits intolérable à l'extrême du paralysé dans le néant des allégresses comme chaines pour déchéance!

   Prométhée qui est attaché à son foie, dissout sous mes pieds. Loki le vestige de jadis éhonté; un élan pour du gravier comme une chape sous la dalle!

La bave de Thor

Quand la Terre respire
unit avec son Ciel

De là-haut
comme d'un éclair

Odin récupère l'oeil
dans le bassin:

Car quand il change de mode
ou d'aspect 

C'est avec l'étant
qu'on laisse choir
la déception!

Il ne fabule plus.

Il ne flatte point.

Il baise bien sa Frigga
alors que Sleipnir 

l'emporte dans sa bière:

 Un ferment pour demain
dans le ventre d'un elfe!


Et le lutin devient avec sa prochaine naissance, le Coeur de l'Asgard, le Royaume du Céleste, un Aryen d'extraction mais sur une isle accompagné seulement du sien!






dimanche 15 octobre 2017

Fasces Lictoriae



   A Race that from beyond the measured sidereal sky, condensed into those with fair white faces thus star crowns in sub-lunar bodies crystalized, Tuatha da Danaan.

   Surely the Night rode mounted on the shoulders of these Hermes. Splitting the material world core where Middle Earth would manifest, the Dark Matter hidden in our souls, a solar substance like honey, coloring their hair. Dripping from the stellar canyon. A mild bright dew becoming a Heathen Barbaric Blood, its fountain head the peluscent Pearl directing the blue-eyed thrush in the mineral veins as they throb & pounce & push continuously within muscle to suffer here, captured in Hagal's primordial Web.

   Then they were despised because of their personally well earned immortality!


   Dispersed idly like a bundle of meaningless sticks, a thing now moving uselessly on the tile, in the silly arena of Empty Temples, wandering away from what is tangible to the Soul, dedicated in a place to gods no longer there, if not, except as some distorted reflection of this world's worshiped ugliness.  Unintentionally diminishing a Once at one Time Sacred Blood, vessel of the body of God!

   And now the Oriental Scholars chirp, disdainfully discard the Aristocratic Babe with the Holy Bath Waters, into a brazen & filthy bassin. Contriving genetically a barren breed from all 4 corners of the once Sacred World! Mixing blood types to engender : a Monster in Jah's Image!

   All the waters dispersing. In a some how great, and without a supernatural sense, vortex provided underneath the earth, in a circular cylinder, made of magnets and nails, chromium & modern jade. Electrically empowered thanks to a golden box presided by two Cherub prisoners. 

    My God you have gone from this place to the next. As proud as if you had been a Palestinian child now crushed by tanks, but had hurled little stones nonetheless at the demon-people who hated him! But of course there but here you cannot die. Crowned like a glistening jewel, sitting on the lap of the Holiest of Mothers. An infant who bore the World to smash it's human shame against the Wall of the most stupid & unkind people, that Man has certainly ever come to encounter.

** * ** **

   



   Ah, for what was sweet in my dreams now dirtied here. How thin & brittle, dry the cord that held us together! How much the metal edge, since so many centuries, in the air was battered by the wetness exhaling though our mortal pores.

   You can't make an eagle from out of a swine! Without the Seed no ROSE shall flower on this dung heap! How could you serve the wicked empire that destroys the Internal Foundation of all Mankind?

   Ultimately, the silly European prattle converts into a void, its most vital & precious parts undissolved, coalescing into an invisible army, stretches through out all the cardinal directions, toward every horizon of this spinning globe, according to a Unique Imperial Plan revealed to the Awakened, never mainstream & arrogantly undercurrent always underground, that no one person can ever really know unless of course you awaken.


Chakravartin & his Body Guards.

   AVM.
Arisch ÜberMensch.


But my dear friend 
who's astute
& then, who's not?

A trinkling here
another one over there!

Besmeared betwixt various imaginings.

This world & all the others
have goose pimples on the inside
& as it is the bladder is way too small.

Where can you put infinity?
Can a soul have a dignified place

when this and all else
has fled?


   The Aryan is the unique viable boat we have for this sea on whose vast ocean nonsense deludes the majority of those who'll no longer be even in a wink some occasional or possiblly improbable memory!

   One step 2 steps three steps, 4. To the Polar Star in airships, Pleroma waits. A pleading to the down trodden to get up, and ignite inside! A storehouse of imploding magnificence. A roar.


vendredi 6 octobre 2017

The Wind told me


Pour G.K.


   The Wind told me, «  move on . You are a vanishing kind, with no place left upon the Face of this forsaken Earth. » And I responded, « which earth? Where? Upon which face of it, no place? When, forsaken?!!!».

   The immovable mover in the air with marvelous golden wings went to & fro, dauntless between the trees’ little branches on the terrace. Indifferent, like a psycho-pompe guiding the free mind, equipped with a body and a certain kind of un-knowable soul. « Never to be a human any more, filled with fear and an affection belonging to implanted cultivated brains (though surely in the spermatic substance of all 4 races can be found an efficacious vehicle, resilient to & withstanding fractional despair). There will never be any hope, when life has been rid of Truth and those who sincerely served Her have all gone on. »

   The best is yours. Gleaming white. As if the stellar carnation idled, wandering aimlessly within a domed surface. Thriving endlessly, gratuitously. A coagulated breath, numinous & luminescent, inextinguishable. Conscious of its uselessness!

One Folk Soul is mine,
guardian of the enclosed ubiquitous altar,

Extracted from the deep & thick flesh pulpe
the skies would forbid to schematic mankind.

   The North Wind swept the Summer Time transporting it into oblivion, the skeletons which often got in the way, making me fuss. How sad alas. With all this wishful thinking to have struggled against the Empyrean Cycles, a son of Man, for a lost Imperium. The last of those mythic Aryans in heart, & in soul to gain entrance into the supernatural plane of Overman!

   But it’s time to prepare with all your strength, to kill the carcasses, then fill the World with molten gold of Ice and dread all loss of humour! 

   « Because the Avatar is come. » We are its primordial essence, « Da sein ». From underneath the veil behind the mind’s eye, we are a smelting in the earth-body, burning the rust. Forging the Sword. A thunder clap far away in the Boreal bosom melting the blood of angels in the mineral order. Moving on. 

   

mercredi 4 octobre 2017

Trickster Ravings




   This infuriating principal decline of all things living, converting the outward  center of sundry colored organisms that were in emanation from above directing their impulse perennially, exteriorly through an invisible middle door, unseen & unheard of, a devastation to the barred cerebral behavior of any well dressed rational idea! That would pertain ostensibly to a well ordered syllogism. Having Greek or Hebrew meanings in our words’ beginnings?! Giving us intellectual redemption?! 


The Spirit plays the game,
in truth,
Without its asking any kind of permission;

A wild Wind easing
the horrendous pressure between the tired eyes.

You must give & give again, again yes & once more :

Hugin shall with all the Aryan Peoples, excite Munin in his righteous 
Racial Clime!


   A Time celestial in a Sacred Place escaping the infernal clutching of jealous contempt.

   Res cogitans, res extensa! Res cogitans esse Omnium, ego video, coruscent!

   The 1st one said to me, « Brother ». The 2nd indeed repeated across the 9 encircled expanses : « Me too but I’m a woman! ». And Othin like a trickster understood. 

   « To win the battle, fight your foe on his own filthy turf, with weapons he has no idea of. If he cheats on your kindred, invading the Middle of the Earth, then learn the tune, just like they did at Olympus. 

   Your heart is with me in Asgard. 

   It’s from on high, I’ve come like you, my Kin. 

  In the skies & heavens of this World, Valhalla with its ale & mayhem will precipitate again the Gods! A great thunderbolt grappling at the sides of the glacial air, ripping open the Inner Earth where demons mixed with angels!

   Afterwards, the fires will have receded. Purifying the Castes. The Varna here and there. And Baldur kiss his Bride again, but better than before! »  


It’s the Spirit, plays the Game,
a Wild Wind erasing
that horrible pressure that was between the eyes!

You must give no more than taken
taking back what was yours.


   Hugin said to me, « I’m your spirit, the aether in the heart. » His sister said, « I’m in the blood stream, a drop of golden green, your memory. » 

  
   Wotan said, « I’m the single eye like a lantern, laughing interminably, the Father of Tîwaz and of Thor. »
   

lundi 2 octobre 2017

Âryâvartha



Through these untidy physical bodies
tireless souls trip awakening &
the Corporal ideas enter into extended flesh

While the stammering joy of little urchins
of what would be a most excellent and as it must seem,
abiding perfect theme above the gutter:

 a transcendent eternal picture in the Mind
incarnates the beauty
within a finite darkness!


Strange, yet like a heavy sap advancing thru the mortal nostrils with a thick and balmy smell. The Earth with all its successive sediment, cradles inside diverse & unending caverns, steeping the pretty spirit into a colorless invincible tincture.

   The Sun and the Moon in mouvement
vorticing, their perpetual motions orbit the lick
thence mechanically combine

Emerging from the deep drafts
of this our secret ale, the marrow we might engender!



And what of Nobility? Wandering far far away hopelessly clothed with a fine leather sheath, in a forsakened Homeland? 

   ...an invisible furious sea frothing, shamelessly aware of its own hilarious Illusion, ...hydrous fibres retreat, bursting apart their entrenched briny arms back away, quick into their original Eternal salty lair?

   Only great and simple souls have known this Metaphysical ordeal :

"to be born inside or upon an animal with cadaverous confining barrier
released only at Death like a leopard straying in a Zoo

whence, formerly encapsulated and compressed, a gaseous furious thing
filled with a mobile & perfect perception

Returns among the Eye-lit Stars back
against the black backdrop of the unfathomable firmament!"






   ...for Karl.