“The Atheist” by Aleister Crowley

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Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad,

when rosy limbs and sweat entwine;

But rapture drowns the sense and self,

the wine the drawer of the wine,

 

And Him that planted first the grape-

o podex, in thy vault there dwells

A charm to make the member mad,

And shake the marrow of the spine.

 

O member, in thy stubborn strength

a power avails on podex-sense

To boil the blood in breast and brain;

shudder the nreves incarnadine!

 

From me thou drawest pearly drink –

and in its pourings both are drunk.

The Iman drives forth the drunken man

from out the marble prayer-shrine.

 

Blue Mushtari strove with red Mirrikh

which should be master of the night-

But where is Mushtari, where Mirrikh

when in the sky the sun doth shine?

 

Now El Qahar to Hazif gives

the worship unto poets due :

-But songs are nought and Music all;

what poet music may define?

 

Allah’s the atheist! he owns

no Allah. Sneer, thou dullard churl!

The Sufi worships not, but drinks,

being himself the all-divine.

 

Come, my Habib, the roses blush,

the waters gleam, the bulbul sings

-To pierce thy podex El Quahar’s

urgent and and imminent design!

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About Heretic

female knitter bookworm 31 years old bisexual spiritual atheist 420 friendly traveler occasional poet anything else you want to know, take the time to get to know me and ask. concern trolls need not apply.

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