Diary of a Drug Fiend

by Aleister Crowley

  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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