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Page 1 of 11914 · PDF PAGE 18
CHICAGO MAY See! what a love is child of that pure hate, ‘What hope the heritor of that despair! All I destroyed 1 save, I recreate. ‘What things shall be annihilate what were. Evil was made that good might come thereby, And life to show us it is good to die! Iv O love! O love! lost, lost beyond all hope! 1 plunged too deep within the mire! I strove To master worlds beyond my horoscope 1 sought out hate, and found it only love. I did invoke pure scorn, and lo! appears The pale veiled goddess of immortal tears. Vile, mean, debauched, a mass of m…
1914 · PDF PAGE 25
… CHICAGO MAY ‘Oh, never falter! never fail! forget No second of the wonders that are past, Foresee the greater wonders may be yet— ‘Nail Love, the Son of Man, to murder's mast! Let us be something unachieved before, Something intolerable, something new! Who was the fool that preened himself and swore ‘There was no further destiny to do? ‘Why, every thought is a new spasm of sun! Is there a new or old in love? What odds, Since every one of us—yea, every one !— Is beyond doubt the darling of the gods? ‘Why then, let us die young, let us die young…
1914 · PDF PAGE 6
CHICAGO MAY ‘True self is to all life immune As is the sun's self to the moon, ‘Yet this, that is not love, corrodes ‘That self, or clouds it. Lead me far From earth to the unmoved abodes ‘That lie beyond the utmost star! Ah, no! the martyr asks his Lord For martyrdom as his reward. Give me my pain, and let me keep My love! T have no fear to lose My hate: While now she lies asleep, T have one moment's power to choose. I choose the cross. My love shall gain ‘The price of all my Judas-pain. Il Pure hate is like pure love, a calm, a flow Of the pu…
1914 · PDF PAGE 5
CHICAGO MAY From A runs this one tale of lust and greed — And yet you think men love you. Love, indeed1 Lie still, lie still, and let my heart run on From hate to—love. I name the one pure word ‘That she blasphemes ; her life's Satyricon Would taint all speech! Yet “love,” obscenely purred From whiskered lips, stillsends my spi To God from all this miry martyrdom. ‘There is a woman, true, fair, wise, and young, Her soul one flame for art and song, her soul Pure as the trilling musick of her tongue, Her heart one flame—for me. The single goal Of…
1914 · PDF PAGE 8
…re my own race turned to dung? ‘Things nearest to us plague us most, we know. ‘Why should such “why?” come tripping to my tongue ? It is love's shrine itself that you pollute; And that is why I hate you, prostitute “Make me a baby!" May a cancer gnaw Your womb! A dropsy make your belly burst! ‘The word of “ baby” in your monstrous maw ‘Makes God a liar, and his Chri “And am I really all your very own “And do you love me for myself alone? “And does my darling love his little girl?” Of five and forty years, and fifteen stone| “My love!” “My dovel…
1914 · PDF PAGE 27
CHICAGO MAY Love, the sole rock, the fort, the tower, Whence mortal dauntless may defy The malice of the age, the power Of fate or chance or deity! Even as in moonlight vale and hill In holy light and holy shade Are blest, so he that hath his will In the male mastery of his maid. Translucent, all my soul is bathed In that clear potency and calm ‘Swayed without wind, divinely swathed In silken silence breathing balm. The past is past! the future hangs A haze of grey to eastward woven, ‘A haze that only by the pangs Of the dawn’s birth may yet be…
1914 · PDF PAGE 22
… in a Chicago sewer Be worthy of a marriage with the moon| ‘Oh! but the moon has purity enough, Lustral for all the least that she might love! Ah! then my heart flings free to flare afar Beyond the fierce phantastic flames of foam To Her, for strength and constancy a star, For magick she's the moon! to Her! to Home! “Blow, blow, thou wintry wind !"—and blow away ‘The last foul fetich of Chicago May! PART IV—CHERBOURG Max Yes: Iam you, but for a moment only. ‘That leaves an ache: that leaves me less than man, ‘That leaves me more than God, too s…
1914 · PDF PAGE 17
…d sweet As if you never had defiled it, pure Without attaint, impeccable, complete, Perfect, through all the ages to endure— Ahi! then T love you after all—the years Dissolved in the black bowl—these bitter tears © God! I love you more than I love her, Because you are lost, because you are mere dung. ‘That makes your pearl shine! Stark and sinister The curses wither on my frozen tongue: My God! My God| let me be damned, me too, But let me be the means of saving you!
1914 · PDF PAGE 24
…d my spouse, Bedeck yourself with nakedness, prepare To enter the most high, most holy house, Careless what gods or devils may be there. Love me! I love you, Laylah! Laylah! mine ‘Though time and space and force and being discede, Mine is the magic that has made me thine, Mine from sublime unconsciousness to deed. Laylah! oh God! the love of my whole life, ‘My life concentred in a single act, More than a mistress, wilder than a wife, ‘Who ratified our diabolic pact? God grant my life and yours be one, be one, One beyond possibility, no hour ‘Bu…
1914 · PDF PAGE 26
…ccess— Come, let our spirits mingle! bodies follow According to the grace and kindliness (Of space’s master, Zeus, and time's, Apollo, T love you, Laylah! I am with you now. One kiss, one kiss! O let us part no more! One kiss, one kiss on each beloved brow! ‘One kiss, one kiss where we have kissed before! Irise, I come to you! I come to you! ‘You will be maniac to meet with me. I ride, I race over the bounding blue: ‘You will be there to meet me on the quay! PART V—DOMAINE D'HARDELOT. aren Tite fall moon, regent of the dunes, Shines from the sa…
1914 · PDF PAGE 2
CHICAGO MAY A LOVE POEM w ALEISTER CROWLEY The poscestor of this copy le carncaty requested to retin the same under lek and bey, aad a aowise to pact with it vail the year 1964 1914 PRIVATELY PRINTED Prke FIVE GUINEAS
1914 · PDF PAGE 15
…aggerates! If they could see me, they would all go gray ‘With horror, know there is no word in hate’s Roll to speak hate, just as in all love's lore There is no word for love—oh, snore, sow, snore! 1 am rigid with my hate; the brain stands still, Frozen in hate, the eyes one frightful glare. ‘Oh, may sleep save me—or the twitch and thrill Of ecstasy—and yet I hardly dare. Anything but to wake (dear God, I pray!) To the mad maulings of Chicago May.
1914 · PDF PAGE 7
… my spine, This hate, hate, hate of this “ good luck” of mine! ag Good luck! God save us! Is there one thing worth Gold buys? You bought love; here's the goods! For health, Look at the ploughman toiling in the earth ! Disease and hatred won you by your wealth, ‘And scorn—foul scorn—even from the tipsy knaves ‘You fling your dollars to, and think them slaves! Each one of all the maggots that swarm round ‘Your swollen carcass knows exactly that; What is too rotten, what is fairly sound, ‘How much is flesh, and how much more is fat. Not one thinks…
1914 · PDF PAGE 4
…ard The ferments of the fodder, turn, and fret This inch that is the ruins of a yard. Is there no sparrow, ram, ass, bull can stay The “ love"—dear Jesus |—of Chicago May? u Like salt pools in a marsh her skin is, soiled With labours and abortions, stained and red With her low birth and her high feeding, spoiled With moles and wens, and fat, fat, fat. To Z
1914 · PDF PAGE 16
…d at you, thrust deep my ki Into the fat about your hampered heart! I would have taken you to be my wife; T would have doctored you with love and art. With the first quarter-glass of dry champagne ‘The rift that was clouds hopelessly again. Ah, but I saw the sunlight! ‘Thrice at least In these three months that I have lived with you There was a hint that undérneath the beast Was something human—superhuman too! Since all that separates mankind from swine Is that one secret stamp of the Divine! 15
1914 · PDF PAGE 13
…bhor a vacuum! Oh, but there's mind! ‘There's folk that have a brain, ‘That need the food of spirit and of heart. There's folk that need love, pity, peace; disdain All that lacks beauty, passion, wit, and art. Yours is a mind that does not hesitate To find a word for such—" degenerate.” Xm It poisons me to think such thoughts: they mar ‘The crystal of my orgasm of hate. How can I fling from facets as they are ‘The unwavering light of it, the focussed fate? If I could only speak my thought, its curse Would char you, blast you from the Universe.
1914 · PDF PAGE 11
…, “the dog’s letter.” Why you are all R's! —I pray you pardon the two-pointed prong— ‘Must you keep up the stale romantic farce That you love sculpture, harmony, and song? Your god's your belly, and your pride your shame You are weil fitted with Madonna's name! x (The great sow snores.) Ab, but she holds me still. If T but turned, she would be up and doing, Crazy with lust or jealousy. Hog-swill Stirs her to phrenzy, quarrelling or wooing. Her wreath is mustard-leaves entwined with myrtle: Her turtle-dove combines the snapping turtle!