SILVERSTAR1-PG0

I was listening to a lot of "Scholar," the occult rapper.
If you're not familiar with his stuff you can check him
out here: http://www.myspace.com/scholar I flicked
over to a video from another incredible artist named
Kate miller-Heidki, who sings a song called "Words."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONfRrZOGC0g
I began to hear a gypsy style jazz rock; Scholar's
political Thelemic overtones and the melody of the
other song set my mind on fire, racing away with these
words of my own. I debated several titles for this poem, amongst them:

The Greatest Thelemic Poem Ever Written (note the sarcasm,) 9 Is The Loneliest Number, Theloetry, The Theloetry of Bigots, Sister Lover Brother, The Feather and the Fire.

Call It What You Will

I've been chatting with the Fraters,
I've been down and out,
They think I'm flat cuz,
They don't see me for what I really am,
I've been teasing you, Brother,
But you're not the man.
Do you think I'm juvenile,
Treading muddy waters?
... Baby is a talker,
Child, you know you are a tight rope walker,
... And I'm a tight rope walker stalker!
I like to watch, no pressure, just don't topple.

And you see,

I have been bored of my little Sorors,
Dem red-headed mistresses seem to,
Have forsaken them,
Gone to bed and sleeping, and I tuck you in,
Goodnight tiny girl, she dreams of buildings,
And jumping off of them!
Liquid instead of cement..
She don't have to think twice,
While she's got a fantastic new set of wings,
And she flies like a whore,
Out the door,
Where she bumps into her kin,
Brother, baby, Brother, baby, Brother baby,
I will never run away from you again!
So, can we fuck now, Brother, can we fuck now?
Can we make love, Sister, can we make love? Somehow,
I love you like I've known since we we born,
From the same womb, eternally,
From the cradle to the tomb,
Handicapped psychic spawn,
How much of this is true???

See, I've always been the leader,
Of the Outside, Inside Outside,
And I do declare,
That your only weakness is your pride.
Up here, sending drafts downstairs,
Towards the happy families,
The ants are marching out in pairs,
A Thelemic nation might be an obligation,
To dogmatic Christians or Muslims,
It's never gonna happen,
Though I wish it would, sometimes...
I can't scrub away the turn-of-the-century's grime,
A woman who studies Crowley,
Must be slow on the uptake, fo, fo, sholy,
Slowly, seeing the parts of the man,
That weren't exactly, holy, moly,
Ninety fucking three, Brother, do you love me?
Sister, will you touch me?
Our mother was a whore and our father is a beast,
But it sure beats a virgin and a herder of sheep,
Though you've got to admit, occasionally,
It's like an inbred circus,
Of intellectuals, nerds and government officials,
And their masochistic sisters,
Standing right next to the window,
A bee is flying by and lands on your little girl's Nintendo,
You'd almost think it's like a sort of innuendo.

Let go Iris,
Risin' to the E.clipse,
Brother, I'll never, ever, ever run away from you again,
Later... Emptying out his pockets,
While he's in the other room shining up his magic rocket, *ka-plow!*
Some do, some just say,
That they want a Pan-dominated country and state,
But I suspect the satyrs
Might have more important matters,
Like tending to the garden of The Lady Of The Lake...

The giant rooster of the dawn missed midnight,
You should've seen this go down, it was a horrible sight,
A Witch tried to snatch him for his golden eggs,
But they were white..
And they just could not accept each other,
She only wanted the hen to get laid,
Perhaps do some kitchen witchery for Mother;
He was a cock of a different colour,
If only they could find a way to reconciliate,
They might have a few yolks,
And a little meat on their plates,
But they just don't Work that way.

Sing along now, *clap* it's all wrong now, *clap*
The world is arse backwards,
The train is off the track,
Weathers getting warmer, Wyrd,
So many snake charmers,
From the desert, I heard,
There is a scorpion with 1000 babies on her back,
Channeling the Scarlet Lady in ways they couldn't even fathom,
But she can not face her fear of mirrors,
Wouldn't have been a whore for years,
If she could have been a pimp,
It's a fact, that Crowley and most men will never truly get that,
The oppression of women,
How about a free female whose no one's slave,
How 'bout a Hermetic, agapic province,
The Book of the Law publicly recognized,
You wanted a change of pace,
But do you really think they can do it better?
I see the fettering already,
Maybe that doesn't happen in the A.'.A.'.,
There's a reason for this:
In one of the planets oldest languages, Latin,
The word "Occult"
Holds the same meaning as the word,
"Hidden".

Can you love me like a Soror, I.E.:
Can I love you like a Brother and a Beast?
Relative and the Scarlet Lady,
Virgo, Mary's bread basket's quite contrary,
The Magickians can be as impractical,
As a Mormon committing Hari-Kari,
For truly feeling the Tabernacle,
Sing, Brothers, Sisters,
Fraters, Sorors, a pretty song of denial,
For the colours are many but the Light is One,
And I don't mean this strictly of an only child, the Son,
Or of orgies in the name of what is sacred,
Fucking your Brothers and Sisters,
Who's the culprit of evil?
Who's the oppressor,
Love under Will?
Let's let the yoni pay the bill.
Or take things literally,
"Do what you want," right?
That's the spell of never questioning,
Books of lies,
It's how to tell if there's that much behind the eyes,
When Love is placed UNDER Will,
Who will seek to defy?
Who will seek to deny,
Their Holy unions,
With the very desecration of their altars,
Do you woo deceitfully,
The very womb that birthed us,
Is walking to her Death,
Rebirthing painfully yet peacefully once again,
Laying under the Stars,
Mercifully breaking boundaries,
Mercurially,
She becomes the He,
This is the name of God!
"Nature" is another of its many titles,
Geburah's power will always shower blood on us,
We must be Spiritual Warriors,
Sheath or be girt with our swords,
Place them down for examination,
Bare our wands, our chalices, our pantacles,
Promulgate what you can,
Be the change that you want to see,
The Wheel of Time and its tapestry know,
Which ideas survive the tests of history,
Which practitioners truly understand the Mysteries,
And which know that they don't know.

Let's go for a walk,
In your more magickal, most oracular membrain,
We'll see if we can't get lost in the forests of you, together,
Crystalline fawns, decorating your diamond mind,
Forever after this point,
Let's see if we can find our season,
Embrace the weather,
Embrace the feather,
Let's not make the same mistakes,
As most Xtians today;
Let's not be so quick to kill,
Afterall, the collective spirit has been ill,
That's you, that's me,
Not just the Holy Father,
Not just the Curs'ed Beast,
Also the Red Queen,
The Prince of Power,
And the Princess Of Peace.

~ Iris E.