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Love Me Not (Just Fuck Me…Please!)

15 Jul

Image and prose are property of Julia DarkRose
By Julia DarkRose
©2015

*This is meant to be a fun prose. I am most definitely poking fun at over dramatic Goths and wanna-be vamps.*

Love Me Not (Just Fuck Me, Please!)

Tell me no more of minds embracing minds,                          JuliaDarkRose~2015 Watermark
and hearts exchanged for hearts;
Tell me no more of dark spirits meeting and becoming one dark soul.
Tell me no more of our unbodied essence
sharing the dark bloody kiss,
and then like fallen angels, twist and become one in our despair,
and oh, so very misunderstood, dark bliss.

I was once that silly thing that once wrought
to practise this esoteric love;
I climb’d from Gothic sex to Gothic soul, from somber soul to thought;
But thinking there to move,
headlong I rolled from thought to soul, and then
from soul I lighted at the bloody sex again.

As some strict down-looked women pretend to fast,
who yet in closets eat;
So lovers who profess of the spirits taste,
Feed yet on grosser meat;
I know they boast their souls to souls convey,
however they meet, the body is the way.

Come, I will undeceive thee.
They that tread those vain intangible ways,
are like young heirs and alchemists misled
to waste their wealth and days,
for searching thus to be ever rich,
they only find a medicine for the itch.

Oh, keep thy delusions to yourself.
Oh, lie not to me about those imaginary
things which you cannot see.
Oh, my poor, poor, misled, Gothic soul,
oh, love me not,
just fuck me…please!

~Julia DarkRose

The DarkRose Journal YouTube Channel

1 Jul

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBH8hJSiCxJoC9iRfUx1STg/feed?view_as=public

DarkRose Journal Cover Art

http://www.darkrosejournal.net

Life

1 Jul

©Julia DarkRose
2015

Life                                                                       red night sky owl

“I’m not losing my mind,
I was just looking for the breath of life,
trying to find my dreams again,
a little sight of the beginning and the end,
a fleeting vision of the stars and the glittering air,
a vision of the All from the Nothing.”

Oh, my hallowed lambs, all you need is one more touch,
one more sweet caress,
just one more sensation of the mystical storm,
just one more breath of life.
Oh and then you’ll believe,
oh my, how you will believe then…

You say you just need your heart to bleed,
to beat in time with the thunder.
You say you just need your eyes to cry tears,
that cascade down the banality of your creviced face,
like the silky rain,
of a deathless life.

You need to dance with the wind again,
but your heart is a hollow place,
and for you the wind no longer blows through your soul,
the thunder has stopped crashing through your mind,
and the cleansing rain simply slides off of your numb flesh.
For you, the moon reveals no secrets, She is silent.

Oh, oh, oh, oh,
you’ll never find that breath of life,
you’ll never taste that mystical storm,
you’ll never have just one more touch…

Oh, my sacramental darling,
If you just breathe out the distorted fable of nirvana’s gleam,
and inhale the black blizzard in,
to dance with you once again,
under the ruby moon,
you’ll search no more for a breath of life…
Oh, my, no,
you will finally be the breath of ALL life.
~Julia DarkRose

Light

11 May

Light DRJ Original Artwork 1995
©Julia DarkRose 2015

Bearer of the false light,
Dead thing,evil,old and dried
Your foul skin be cast aside
And thus transformed to black fire.
Beneath your flesh of confusion,
Behold your bones of that which is true:
Still all save one are false,
And must deceive where the spirit’s eye is shut:
Yet open now that eye
And the true bone shall rise.

Halls of blood where life has fled
Walls of bone that close you round
Break your reign,
Your yoke be shed.
Now, melt your anger
In tears of salt
Be turned to Dark Love
By my sweet scarlet salve.

Flesh lacking blood
Bone lacking flesh
Spirit lacking substance
Arise and be fed
Arise to bone and flesh and blood,
This night renewed by the dark Gospel’s food.

Fruit of ruby,
Pearl of blood
Red of Dark Love
the gift has been given…
Shall you waste and mourn your “loss,”
While we flourish in the purity of Darkness’ true sight?
A gall to our living flesh,
Forever your false verity
Mocked before our Darklight.
By the tribes of the moon,
You must choose…

O Nephalim wise
Thy flesh doth rise
To warm our Living Vampire’s bed
Where we shall be forever wed.
~Julia DarkRose

Every Flower has it’s Secret

1 May

I am a rose that first bloomed in the very darkest hour of the night. This was my choice…to bloom or to die (literally). Since that moment I have bloomed with every breath that I breathe and shared my Darklight with all that need it and choose to understand it and embrace Her beauty and truth.

The Surprise of Being
©2013 By Julia DarkRose           DarkRose Journal Cover Art

Every flower has its secret…

As you see it standing growing from the earth, clinging to its vine,
or swaying on the tree,
You feel at once its sensual beauty.
Those pink articulate lips
Divinely flavoured portals to a mouth
Where soul dissolves…
eyes darting, black as midnight
Beneath ebon brows, snares for the heart.
The twin rosebuds, fair beyond other flowers.
So sweet there is no tongue can praise her enough,
To be satiated with just one taste.
The candied perfume her breath affords,
No rosary, those silly beads,
or nunnery or crucifix,
or liars be,
can tear her ruby born petals away.
At once you hunger for her moist centre.

There was always the flower that flowered inward, womb-ward;
It was always a secret.
That’s how it should be, they said,
The eternal feminine should always be a secret,
a veiled truth.

Then, under the ruminating gaze of the
luminous moon,
A tiny rosebud awakened…

For her, there never was standing inferior and folded on a bough
like the other flowers,
In a revelation of petals;
Silver-pink peach,
venetian glass of medlars and sorb-apples,
Shallow wine-cups on short, bulging stems
openly pledging to the celestial heavens:

‘Here’s to the thorn in flower!’
‘Here is to utterance!’
So said the brave, adventurous dark rose.

Oh, how the fruits fall and bruise,
the other flowers wither from the light,
Touched by a swallowed moon.
But for the valiant rose,
there were other incandescent nights-
And at once,
as she acknowledged her Being,
all were singing their song of freedom:
The moonlight musical,
The darkness clinging,
And she, the first rose,
remained ever vigilant and devoted to
her garden of nighttime blooming flowers.
~Julia DarkRose

The Darkling Plain

16 Apr

The Darkling Plain

Hither and thither spins
The windborne, mirroring soul;                                           The Darklong Plain
A thousand glimpses they have,
And yet, they never see the whole…
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are now all asleep.
Nature, with perfect plan,
Sees all her children at play;
Sees them try to control the mighty winds.
Then, in her masterful wisdom,
Watches the wind sweep her children away.

Oh, the day in its hotness,
Brings strife and pain;
Oh, but the sweet night, in her silence,
Brings the stars and their calm.
It is no small thing
To have enjoyed the moonlit night,
To have lived in the shadowed light,
To have loved, to have thought, to have done;
To have advanced true friends, and beat down baffling foes!
‘Tis true, all human beasts have a beating heart…

The sea of humanity
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
It lay like folds of a lover’s smile, bright and furled and sincere;
But now, nature’s children, mostly only hear
It’s melancholy, long, withdrawing roar
Retreating, to the breath of the night wind,
Down the vast edges bleak
And naked seashore of the world.

Ah, but for those who know the beauty of Dark love,
Let us be true to one another!
For those not born of the glittering night, the world,
Which seems to lie before them like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new, so old,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

For those of us who revel in the velvet radiance of the darklight,
We are here on the darkling plain,
Come, children of darkness, let us away;
Down and away below!

Now I hear my brothers and sisters,
Calling from the bay,
Now the great night winds shorewards blow,
Now the salt tides seawards flow; Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray and the starry moonlight.

Down, down, down!
Down to the very depths of the sea!

We, those dwelling in the darkling plain,
Sing most joyfully with our
orchestra…
The precious song of the night.
My sea of darkness is calm
tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies
fair upon the straits…
I hear not the world applauding it’s hollow ghost,
While the others only see the phantom of themselves,
I hear the quietess of my spirit…
I see my whole…
Dark tidings to all,
And to all a dark night…
Now I creep into my narrow bed,
I creep, and let no more be said!

~Julia DarkRose
©2012

As I Walked One Evening

3 Apr

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
I looked over his shoulder                                     Julia DarkRose FB 4
for vines and olive trees,
for marble, well-governed cities
and ships upon wine-dark seas;

But there on the shining metal
his hands had put instead
an artificial wilderness
and a sky like lead.
The stars are dead.
The animals will not look.

He, my deluded lover,
asked me to lay my sleepy head
upon his faithless arm.
Instead, I plunged my hands into the red water,
I plunged them in up to my elbow;
Stare, Oh how I stared into the basin
and I wondered why the world had chosen to miss
the shining darkness before them.

The glacier knocked in my cupboard,
the desert sighed in my bed,
and the crack in my tea cup opened.

So, I walked out onto the brightly lit lane,
it led to the land of the dead.

As I walked out one evening,
I went through the werewolf’s painful change.
Turning my head away
on the sweaty bolster, I tried to remember
the mood of my womanhood,
but lying in my sweat and blood, at last, as always,
letting it happen, the fierce fur,
soft to my face.

I now hear with sharper ears,
and live and love with the darkness
of my imagined fallen grace.
With my bestial understanding,
I open my wolfen eyes and truly see.…

The soul shrinks
from all that it is about to and should remember,
from the punctual rape of every blessed day, and cries,
“Oh, let there be nothing on earth
but what I choose to see,
nothing but rosy glasses to cover my eyes,
and gloves to cover my hands in the rising steam,
and guilty, blurred dances done in the sight of heaven.”

They never find the way out of their prison
and into the precious,
saving graces of the Darklight.
Pale souls they are, consumed by fear
of the living world they haunt.
Yet, they have not learned what habits lead them
to hunt what they do not want;
Nor have they learned who does not need them;
They are no one here,
until they are truly the someone they need to be.

Oh, what makes them so ugly, to me,
is self-inflicted ignorance.
Incurable ignorance.
I don’t want to harm them,
I think this very thought,
right up to the moment I slit their throats
with the truth.

I am touched with the moon’s red silver,
I am my own wolf sun,
made of human moonlight.

~Julia DarkRose
©2015

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