Archive | May, 2014

The Undoing

27 May
Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose
Julia 2014-Literary Artist
The Undoing

Oh, my undoing:
those pink articulate lips,
divinely flavoured portals to a mouth
where soul dissolves.
Eyes darting beneath raven brows, snares for the heart,
and the milk-white breasts, so lovely shaped,
the twin rosebuds, fair beyond all other flowers.

And there in the room, poor and squalid,
hidden above the dubious tavern,
moonlight filtering through the filthy and narrow window,
lying there on the much-used, lowly bed
I had the essence of love, wrapped in Goddess’ flesh.
I had the lips,
the voluptuous and rosy lips of ecstasy-
rosy lips of such ecstasy, that even now
as I write, after so many years,
in my solitary house of skin and bone,
I am drunk again.

My hunger, deprivation,
absence of her flesh.
My endless thirst for her,
for her damp porous centre,
the warm interior,
her sunflowers at night,
her breasts, belly, thighs
of the Goddess, of Cybele.

Her spring has run dry
I now reside in the land
of ashes and desert,
in a mirage of clouds and trees.

I thirst for her.
I am drunk again.
I am drunk with the absence of her.





24 May
Property of DarkRose Productions
©Julia DarkRose 2014
(This is not about the singer Him.
‘Him’ is a metaphor for the erotic beauty that I find within the Darklight.)
Him Image

What is this sound
and what this light,
bringing an end
to sleep and waking up my precious night?

Whence this music?
Whose this flame?
Who wakes my flesh and spirit
to life again?

Who is it knocks,
who would come in?
Oh, I know him still,
I know him well.
It is Darkness himself.
My Lord, my desire,
my blood lust, my passion,
my fire.

Let me prepare
my body most fair
for his dark desires
whose very nature is on fire.

Unbolt the door
for he is here:
Now I lead him forth
to greet his earth;
my bag of bones and my soul.

Now my flaming Sire doth enter
once again into his favorite earth’s chamber:
Liquid-red flames proclaim my crimson love,
like a blossoming rose, I wake beneath his fervor.
Strong his sanguine light shines in amorous fever
quick to win my ruby passion’s favor.
Fire to fire we cleave together,
kindling the darklight, conceiving the raw truth,
joined forever and forever,
though the false fire of day returns
and those who would try to destroy what they
cannot conceive, continue to try to put out our fire
of passions dark wine.

Here at our marriage
of blood and earth,
drink to us both,
drink to eternal health and youth.

Bride of darkness
and bridegroom of Blood
bound together,
bound to you too,
to one another

We are the darklight.
We are the earth,
circles of red liquid fire,
circles of spirit and of flesh.
Night is our marriage,
night is our bed.
So in this night of nights
our flesh and spirit are wed.
Joined forever and forever
in the liquid darkness.


The Viper’s Tongue

19 May

Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray

The Viper’s Tongue

Serpents Tongue 2

Oh, that viper tongue that doth tempt and soothe the brain with its lies and delusions.
That diseased tongue shall rise and wind its glittering coils
about your feverish fears again and again,
you look into their ‘clear’ hypnotic eyes;
Oh how they ‘confess’ their power firmly and without fail.
How they will turn on you and tease, how they will
charm you with that false wit and wisdom, under their will
to consume and dominate, to bind you with their filth.

May you, my dears, stare them down and hold them still:
Breathe back out their contagion,
Slice off their liars tongue,
Stuff it down their cancerous throat,
Be fearless and bathe them in the erotic purity
of the truth:

“ True knowledge I have
while thou hast none,
I can make songs
beyond thy tongue;
All of thy offerings
are now first mine:
I keep my spirit
and need not thine.
I am truth,
I fly freely through the air.
Horns of velvet.
feathers many,
pure and essential as water,
red as flame-
shed thy blood
and sign my name.”


Dark Dancer

15 May
Property of Julia DarkRose Ray
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose
Dark Dancer
Dark Dancer

I’m dancing, dancing, dancing
In the shadows.
Trailing my hair in the dust
Catching patterns in the light.

The creatures of the day
look at me from behind their glass prisons.
I laugh.

I claw at my face,
My blood flows rapidly
down my body while the
Wings in my head beat
Faster and faster…

I’m the lucky one.



The Kiss

15 May

Property of Julia DarkRose Ray
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose
The Kiss

After hot loveless nights, when cold winds stream,
sprinkling the frost and dew, before the inky light.
Bored with the foolish things that sanguine girls must dream
because their beds are empty of rubied dark delight.

The two sisters, one a beauty with strands of midnight
and one of golden fire, rise and strip.
Out from the night
their horses run to their low-whistled pleas-
Vast phantom shapes with eyeballs rolling white
That sneeze a fiery stream about their knees:

Through the crisp manes their stealthy prowling hands,
stronger than curbs, in slow caresses rove,
they gallop down across the milk-white sands
and wade far out into the sleeping cove:
The frost stings sweetly with a burning crimson kiss
as intimate as true love, as cold as death:
Their lips, whereon delicious tremors hiss,
fume with the ghostly pollen of their copper breath.

Far out on the grey silence of the flood
they watch the dawn as smouldering gyres expand
beyond them; and the day burns through their blood
like a white candle through a quivering hand.

Sensually Dark Literary Artist

15 May
Please, if you desire, check out my new author’s page on Facebook:
Coming soon, my new author’s website!
I have many other projects waiting for me to finis their creation.
I am and do so much more that ‘The DarkRose Journal’ magazine & Ezine!
Thank you!
This is my truth. What is your truth?

I am not ‘bad’ but I am considered ‘evil’ by many. I embrace all that I am, all that nature has made me.

Without hurting anyone, ever…of course!

“The difference between my darkness and your darkness is that I can look at my own “badness” in the face and accept its existence while you are busy covering your mirror with a white linen sheet. The difference between my “sins” and your sins is that when I “sin” I know I’m sinning while you have actually fallen prey to your own fabricated illusions. I am a siren, a mermaid, a Dark Angel; I know that I am beautiful while basking on the ocean’s waves and I know that I can eat flesh and bones at the bottom of the sea. You are a white witch, a wizard; your spells are manipulations and your cauldron from hell yet you wrap yourself in white and wear a silver wig.”

It is time for me to evolve some more and to reach even higher than I am aware that I can. I am not defined by any mere label. I am anything I choose to be. I choose to share my incredible adventure that I call my life, with the world, through my sensually dark words. I hope that you will choose to continue to walk with me even though not everything I do or write is part of The DarkRose Journal.

Make no mistake, I am and always will be, a Dark Angel. It’s just that my time has come to metamorphose once again into that which Nature needs me to be. I leave no one behind, but I must write all that I know, all that resides inside my heart and mind. I must do that which is in my nature to do.

Please, if you so desire, stay with me, and enjoy the new adventure with me!!!!

~Julia DarkRose Ray

Sleep of Madness

10 May
Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray

*This is an edited version of prose that I have previously published on FB.*
The Sleep of Madness

How do you fill the silences between the ticks of time?
Whither fled your strength and your ascending spirit?
Whither fled your laughter and your superior condescension?
Where now stands your scaffolding of knowledge,
those limbs of light and truth whereon you climbed,
wherein you played?
All are now pulled down by the truth,
your lean possessions of your soul shrunk to fill a little box:
And all your senses, your delights,
turned pale and leached of taste,
paled to a scentless draught
that rusts your heart to a mere foolish ticking clock.

Oh, how your brain
Must break
Your bone
Must crack
Your blood
Must clot
Your heart
Must stop
Your flesh
Must rot
Your spirit
Must wither.

You are the stricken,
dying the true death,
shrouded in your long black veil of lies,
wrapped in your loss:
Silent you wait,
clouded by the tears of your true spirit,
torn by the wind,
ragged with soiled mist:
Where you are wounded,
there is no healing.
Where you decay
nothing is sound.
Ravaged by the false dark,
abandoned by your own self,
silent you wait.
Shadows of gray:
Old in your broken
house of flesh and spirit.
Old among ruined
pillars of stars,
old as the halls
to which you descend.
Old as your deception
that does not end.

Elixirs fade
and potions fail,
the gold is rusted from your grail,
the wine is changed
to water thin.
The blood is wasted
from the skin,
and all that from
the glass is drunk
may leave you only
smaller shrunk.

Shall there be no alternative?
Neither recourse nor choice?

The choice is to fall into the sleep of madness
or follow that which is truly within…
The truth of the universe,
your primordial energy,
your true dark angel awaits.
Open the door to your mind…
Come on in.


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