Echo Point 5: Eclogue In A Berlin Street - Poem by Michael Buhagiar
Stone, the emblem of the timeless become space
- Oswald Spengler
Christopher Brennan Deep in the wildest valley of my soul
I sense something nameless struggling to be born.
I feel the merest fraction of a whole,
Rank afterbirth of midnight stains my dawn.
Old Euler is lecturing on Homer today…
Aleister Crowley I divine that between two poles you are torn.
Your nerves are shot and fear has held sway
Since the great god Phallus began to annoy.
You should chuck your degree and go your own way
And dwell no more on the sack of Troy.
How could I abandon that beautiful tongue?
The Greeks have been my inspiration and joy,
A diamond that shines from a sea of dung.
Now so often at my desk while thinking hard
I feel a sudden jolt as if stung.
Aleister Crowley The Scorpion is your sign, and Death your card…
They revealed to me forms which the Church holds obscene,
The Beauty that shattered forever my guard,
Standing and sunlit and balanced and clean.
Aleister Crowley But where is the Classical symbol for infinity,
All breasts and hips of an Egyptian queen
Reclining for a Caesar to enter her sea?
Christopher Brennan Your image is strong, it sings of a world
Rich like the ground of a magical tree.
Aleister Crowley Like leaves in autumn, all yellow and curled,
Classical beauty is brittle and frail.
But I drive by night with sails unfurled
In search of Death and the Holy Grail.
From the loins of Babalon and the Serpent-Lion
Has sprung the Word to supplant your braille,
The fiery Lord of the coming Aeon.
Know that every man and woman is a star,
And trust in your own self to guide you on.
Christopher Brennan My soul shall be the barque to carry me far.
But of what shall I sing when the nights grow cold?
Aleister Crowley The only theme of Heru-Ra-Ha:
The cliffs of gold, the cliffs of gold.
Comments about Echo Point 5: Eclogue In A Berlin Street by Michael Buhagiar
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You