Thither to lie by thee,
Hold thee with arms that cleave
Lock thee in limbs that leap,
Chain thee with lips that leave
Kisses of blood to weave
Castles of hope in sleep.
Poppy! best flower whose bud
Sends dreams to men that die,
I drain thy drowsy flood
That our impatient blood
May mingle utterly.
So, Hermes, thou art wed,
So, Aphrodite, mine,
In one sweet spirit shed
In one ambrosial bed,
In one fair frame divine.
Like clouds in rain, like seas
Exultant as they roll,
We mix in ecstasies,
And, as breeze melts in breeze,
Thy soul becomes my soul.
I come to thee with tears,
Nameless immortal dove;
Forget the fleet-foot years
In the incarnate spheres
Of our mysterious Love.
EREBUS
Something of monstrous in our love, our bed,
Soothes me with strong desire,
Strong but availing nothing – black and red
Thy body gleams, as fire
Thy great eyes burn, thy lips respire
It seems unnatural breath within their tomb.
Ah! the red portals of thy dusky womb,
Wherein my loves expire,
’Twixt thy black breasts to rise, kissed hard by thee
Till joy flows full once more, salt river to sweet sea.
Fairer than roses are thy swarthy cheeks,
Thine hair more sharp than gold;
Purple is warmer than mere red, when seeks
My love thy lips to hold.
Ah Queen! that other’s breasts are cold
Being of wafted snowflakes beside thine;
Her breasts give milk as thine the fiercest wine;
Her ivory thighs enfold
Limbs not so amorous as these that lie
By the dark limbs, and lust for their imperial dye. Thy mouth takes me within its eager lips;
My mouth thirsts, drinking long
Deep from the fount of love, whence out there slips
An eager purple tongue,
Sweet as the taste of summer song
From thrush’s tender throat, a tongue that tires
My thirsty lips with its insatiate fires,
While swart limbs soft and strong
Grip my hot head, while thy lips kiss away
With blood and foam the life from him thou wouldst not slay.
ABYSMOS
This is th’ abyss! Implacable disease
Springs from the black defilement of that kiss,
That foul embrace that moulds these agonies.
This is th’ abyss!
A serpent was my whore; her hellish hiss,
Her slaver venoms soul and strength; life flees
Repugnant from the corpse-caress. Ah, this
Rots blood and body; see, the liquor’s lees
I drained, whose pangs are fierce with Syphilis.
Christ God, damn soul, but quench the pain of these!
This is th’ abyss!
This is th’ abyss. Behold wherein I lurk
The lazar-house my mind, wherein do work
The horrid charnel-priests, whose loathly song
Sickens my soul, and quells the spirit strong.
Hell-fire within my heart! and poisoned blood
Through every vein and artery pours a flood
Of devilish pain. This is th’ abyss indeed;
Fears on my mind and pains on body feed,
Serpents of hell that gnaw my bones, nor quench
The fires of torture with the sickly stench
Of many a venomed drug, that clings and cleaves,
And clutches like a dead man’s hand, and weaves
Its subtle scheme of agony through me.
Is God to help a mortal? Or are we
Caught in Fate’s mesh without a hope to ’‘scape?
Ah! look around! In every darksome shape!
Fearful, nude Venus grins. Alcyone
Mocks with her sickening smile. Hill, moor, and lea
Make me to hate them. Only Clyde there,
Wild arms thrown wide, an agony of hair
Streamed fierce behind her, seems to sympathise;
Through selfish, yet despair in both our eyes
Gives us a link of love. The darkling room
Is fearsome; one red light throughout the gloom
Thrills my void veins with horror. On the couch
The gruesome hound with sleepy stare doth crouch.
His red hard eye upon me. Every shelf
Of noisome books reflects my hideous self!
Lucky I burnt my picture! Snakes on floor
Writhe, lick my legs, I fear them. By the door
Yon horrid panther snarls. His eye inspires
Fresh torments, to invade my soul with fires
Too angry to assuage, and in its glass
I see myself. I hate myself, alas!
More than all these. I cannot rid me of
Myself, my hates, my tortures, or my love;
My golden-haired Greek goddess, who divines
In me a god, who cannot read the lines
Of anguish on my forehead, neither scent
The poison of breast, blood, and excrement!
I gnash my teeth in impotent despair
That I may never hold her heavenly hair
Again, nor bite her lips, as once my teeth
Met in her cheek, to cull a rosy wreath
Of blood upon it, nor assuage the pangs
Of love with hardy limbs, and dolorous fangs,
And sweating body, crimsoning with gore,
As her mad mouth devoured me. Never more
Though years decay! With them my blood decays,
My bones rot inwardly, the venomed days
Sink shaft on shaft of agony, the years
Bring new distortions, miseries, and fears;
New torture to my spirit, and forgot
Of God, and health, and loveliness, I rot.
Outward, my face and breast have leprous sores;
Inward, my filthy blood; its poison pours
Corruption through me. In the eyes of man
I am condemned, the haughty one. God’s fan
Is eager on my threshing/floor; his rod
Smites no vain stroke. Oh, how I curse thee, God!
What is my aid? But yet to Satan’s power
I lend my utmost vigour for an hour,
To wrest Thy damned throne from out thy hands!
My aid? How shall I burst thy bitter bands,
Strike off thy shackles, from thy fetters break,
I, whom Thy name appals, whose vitals quake
At the dim thought of Thee? Have mercy, Christ!
Who suffered on the cross, who sacrificed
Thy heaven for three hours. Ah! pity me,
For years, not hours, condemned to agony
Thrice Thine! Have pity, hear me, virgin queen,
Whose pangs of childbirth were seven times more keen
Than all, since love and memory of joy
Thou hadst not, but the fear of shame to cloy
Even the hope of motherhood. But I,
Cut off from love and joy; its memory
One black hell of distorted pain; my shame
More horrid than that first unholy flame,
That burnt my blood, and flun
g me in her arms,
Whose filthy kisses and thrice loathly charms,
Her purple lips, her acrid redolence,
Her black lewd limbs, her breasts, whose foul incense
Smoked like hell’s mouth though pendulous they hung,
Her devilish black belly, and her tongue
Sharp as a tiger’s tooth, lured on my lust.
Oh! God in heaven! It is turned to dust
And dung and corpse-flesh! I can see even here
(For changeful spectres haunt me) how a tear
Of blood stood on my breast at her first bite:
And day grew dusk, and twilight turned to night,
And her vast coffin stood at hand. And there
Naked as hell, legs wide flung out in the air,
She lay and called me ‘Satan’. As I came,
Feeling a Satan, such a deathly flame
Of lust of loathliness was kindled here
In my bad blood, I leapt upon the bier,
And consummated all the strange desire
That burnt and branded all my blood with fire,
Buried my teeth and limbs in swarthy flesh,
While blood and sweat begat desire afresh,
And yet twelve times the black womb vomited,
And we lay there chilled bitterly, and dead,
While thy lewd minions covered with a pall
Our prostrate bodies, and with musical
Loud voices raised the chant of funeral,
Turned to fierce blasphemies, and words obscene.
Nine hours we lay as dead, and then my queen
Writhed in my arms again, and blood leapt up
To our fresh kisses to fill full the cup
Of horror to the brim. Again as dead
Were we borne forth, and then – Can I forget?
I gripped thy glossy throat. My fingers met
Crushing through the skin and muscle, nerve and vein,
And in that supreme agony of pain
I drained myself of lust! That final clasp
Was consummated in thy dying gasp!
The frightful struggle ended; I leapt high,
Caught sword, bared breast, and hurled myself to die,
But thy mad slaves attacked me. These I slew
– So I half guess – the next thing my soul knew,
I was alone and naked in my bed.
The sword, snapped, on the floor, with hateful red
Blotches of blood, and clots of bloody hair
On its infernal steel. And unaware
Of thy last gift I slept. I have it now,
Thy gift from Hell’s door! Would to God somehow
I had thee once alive – to slay again! -
Ah! Who crawls in upon me like a vain
Damned ghost? Ugh! blotchy spectre! Fiend, aroint!
Ah Christ, he creeps toward me; evert joint
Quivers with passion; he will tear my eyes!
Away! more liquor! come, green cockatrice!
Come, filthy draught of fire! green dancing fiend
On serpent’s vomit and whore’s spittle weaned,
Fire my fierce brain! resolve my rotted heart!
Fill me with drunkenness! How changed thou art,
Body, from that these women loved so well!
God! will they still lust after me in Hell?
But this is Hell! Aha! if you were me,
Blind staring cripple yonder, you should see
Whether I lie! A cripple are you then?
Look upon me, the leper among men,
The corpse among the living! Intercede,
Good pitying pitiable Christ! My need
Is viler than my sins! Old sins, you tire!
Come, some new devilry to reinspire
My lips with frenzied laughter! Vain, ah, vain!
Th’ extreme of pleasure and the worst of pain,
I have tasted all. No more, all hope must end –
Hope! Damn that word! It mocks me like that friend
Who comes to to see me daily – I shall die
Happier if I kill him; so shall I
Reap on his body the last tare of lust,
And shivel back into my primal dust
Filled with all worms and homed beasts with wings,
The reptile that sweats acrid juice, and stings
With bloody teeth and tongue! Oh, all the room
Spits fire and dung, and vomits forth a spume
Of tawny sickly death! All blotched and dark,
The putrid air is vital with a spark
Of fiery eyes of yonder filthy hound!
God! I am reeling brain and body! I swound!
The floor heaves up! The worms devour my breast!
Beasts and lewd fish and winged things infest
Each vital part! Screech, rats! more liquor! Come!
Rumble, you rotting whore-skin of a drum!
I care not! Scream, you rats! Snakes, bite and hiss!
Hell’s spawn, I mouth you with this putrid kiss!
Satan! Damnation! This is the abyss!
This edition published in 2019 by Arcturus Publishing Limited
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Diary of a Drug Fiend Page 84