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Endarkment-Revised 2017

26 Jul

Endarkment
By Julia DarkRose
©2015/2017

 

Photographer: Jill Krueger, for ‘The DarkRose Journal’ photoshoot in 1995, I think, or thereabouts.

DRJ Photoshoot 1995

People are people because they’re miserable bastards…
Without misery, despair, and hardship, humanity would have no point, nothing to strive for, to overcome…humanity would truly self-destruct, even faster then they are now.
Just saying…

On the flip side-
The nature of life is passion. Passion is the total sense of being alive in every fiber of our being. It is a heightened awareness, and the ability to feel at peace and intense at the same time. A sense of ourselves as a rhythmic flow in harmony with the flow of the universe. This is what comes from true endarkment.

The endarkment (A word I created in 2000, while my now defunct House, Sable Brahmin, was a part of the Sanguinarium) consciousness means conscious growth, conscious life, means becoming wiser, more fulfilled, more powerful (power is subjective, think empowered), more intelligent, and happier as you become one with the endarkment of the divine source.

Endarkment is the lover, the loving and the beloved all in one-love and the self are one and the discovery of either is the realization of both.

The universe, the divine, the self…Are all encompassing of that which we call the human animal.

It makes no difference what you choose to have faith in, what gods or goddesses you believe you draw power from. The truth, as I know it, is simply that whatever higher consciousness exists, it is so far beyond our own capability of understanding and imagination that just knowing a higher “power” exists and may or may not even know of our existence, matters not, to me. People can only understand what their minds allow them to imagine. To give deities, spirits, angels, gods, goddesses, demons, or whatever your choice of focus is, all the best and worst of the human condition, is, of course, what humanity does best and then, more often than not, builds their life and their childrens lives and so forth and so on, around said imagination. In the end, to me, I see no difference (the violence and hatred derived from organized religions and/or cults aside) in believing in what the human imagination conjures forth or accepting that the higher intelligence is far beyond our grasp of understanding and to simply choose to be a worthwhile being upon this planet of ours, without the promise of reward for doing so.

This understanding, to me, is a vital part of endarkment.

The body is the supreme temple of transformation, the place where all the forces of the Universe gather to be channeled and transformed into a higher integral order of nature and “spirit”…

Sexuality is not what separates us from enlightenment. Sexuality is an inherent quality of our earth experience which merges us into enlightenment (endarkment for some)…

The earth, our world, is its own magic!

Why are the so called enlightened and/or awakened people, always looking for the truths of our Universe outside of their bodies? Why are they always looking everywhere except the one place where their answers lie…inside of them? The truths which they seek, the enlightenment they desire, is not outside of the physical, it is alive within the physical body…the answers are so simple…really.

You cannot, I repeat, you cannot reach or perceive any other realm, you cannot reach or perceive transcendence without your physical body. You can only perceive/experience a “spiritual” realm with your mind, which is…a part of your very physical body. It’s not any kind of pseudoscience or physics or metaphysical hooey, it’s common sense.

It’s not enough to merely exist. It’s not enough to merely be alive. It’s the fire of life that burns within, and that ignites the fiery blaze of passion that changes us from an entity that is simply being, to one that is a being of abundance and meaning.

I open my arms for all creatures who wish to share in the fiery passions of the night, who,like the night-time butterfly, feel that a coterie of kindred spirits would be a welcome relief from the uncertainty and harsh unforgiving false love and lies of the day light world, as it goes skittering by.

The flames of passion burn deeply in all of us. You just have to want to feel the warmth of it’s embrace.

Welcome to my Darklight…

Into The New DarkLight

I am the darklight of all days that are passed, and my name is evolution.
I am the darklight of this day today, and my name is renewal.
I am the darklight of all days to be, and my name is
revelation…

Ancient flesh turned to stone,
Whitened dust of ancient bone,
Pure as death, cold as snow,
Dead thou wast, but livest now.
Crystal crushed, vision broken,
Spirit fettered, words unspoken,
What is frozen shall be warm,
What is formless shall take form,
What was scattered shall be whole,
Given life within this deceiver’s wasteland.

White of petals, white of ice,
White of dust and white of stone,
White of crystal, white of bone,
All things keeping, all things giving,
Out of nothing, all things living,
Out of emptiness, all darklight,
Out of blindness, now our sight.

I am now the crimson Light risen out of pure darkness:
From my brow springs all life again and again.
I am now evolved, I am now renewed,
I am now thy hope, and thy covenant, and thy
revelation.

I am alive; I wake from within my own dark embrace;
The white owl ascends, and I rise…

Out of the whitened ashes of humanity’s fire,
Out of the white stone and the white crystal,
Out of the pure white flame;
My feathers are scarlet and they are azure,
They are fiery, they are verdant,
They are golden, and they are of royal purple;
I am all things living,
I am the spring and the summer,
I am the autumn and the winter,
I am time, I am revelation,
I burn from this first dawn
Even unto the last darkness of this glorious life
Into which I will fall
And from which I will rise again…

I do not end, I am the DarkLight,
I have just begun!

Welcome to renewal, healing,
empowerment, self-revelation, and true
transformation within the beautiful,
rejuvenating, Darkness.
From within your very own flames
of self-evolution.
Stand up and rise from the ashes!
~Julia DarkRose
©2015/2017

*What does your endarkment (enlightenment) consist of?*

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Video

A Gathering of Angels

4 Aug

DRJ Issue 6-Image 4

A Gathering of Angels Preview Video of issue 6 of The DarkRose Journal:

Enjoy this sneak peek into Issue 6 of ‘The DarkRose Journal-ReVamped’…Thank you kindly.
~Julia DarkRose Ray

DarkRose Productions ReVamped

12 Jul

Hello Everyone!

DarkRose Blue Rose

Just a short announcement. Nothing to get your panties in a twist over (unless, of course, you want to get your panties in a twist), I promise.
I am deleting my original DarkRose Journal/DarkRose Productions website. It was, in a word, a mess. Said mess is completely all of my own doing.
Anyway, this is the new DarkRose Productions website. The address is temporary. I am having trouble transferring my domain name over to my new website. Until then, She can be viewed at this address.

Thank you kindly to all those who take a moment and go peruse Her new home. I have worked non stop for 2 days, not to apply any guilt or anything, LOL.

Again, thank you kindly.
~Julia DarkRose

 

 

 

 

 

Scarlet Rain

23 Jun

By Julia DarkRose ©2014

*Written from my own experience.*
A Kiss in the Scarlet Rain
Scarlet Rain

There is something magical about kissing in the crimson storm. Blood drops fall all over you-your face, hair, skin-and your clothes cling to you as if you are melting.

And you’re holding each other tight as you hear nothing but the beating of your hearts and feel nothing but the touch of your slick bodies and the wet ruby-stained grass between your toes.

The perfect moment lasts, the moment you feel alive and as one with nature, with the universe, with each other, forevermore within the depths of your being. A few glittering drops break the passionate seal of your sweet Dark Angel lips as you taste the beautiful scarlet rain and each other in one glorious sensual moment.
~©Julia DarkRose 2014

House of Flesh

23 Jun
Property of DarkRose Productions
By Julia DarkRose © 2014

*For those that actually read my literary art, you will notice that this prose is actually a joining of two previous pieces. :-)*
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House of Flesh

Clouded by tears
torn by wind,
ragged with mist:
Ravaged by night,
abandoned by day,
shadows of gray:
My house of flesh
from which I ascend…

My mind
has broken
My bone
has cracked
My blood
has clot
My heart
has stopped
My flesh
has rot…

I sleep,
the sleep of gray,
where the gold and purple
of living fall away.
Here I lie,
beside the bustling of life,
past pain or joy,
desire or fear.
I am the stricken,
dying of death,
shrouded in weeds,
wrapped in my loss:
Silent I wait,
there is no healing
where I decay
nothing is sound,
silent I wait,
in my house of flesh.

I must choose of sleep or madness:
I go then, sleep that gray and soundless sleep
that comes before the silent nothing.
Warmed only by my poor domestic fire,
that lean and flickering flame,
lit upon my mortal hearth to comfort me in Autumns decay:
For it may warm, if not the spirit or the heart,
And least my chilled bones yet awhile.

I ponder the thoughts of the dark dreaming…
Are these not the words of some gray serpent
flickering in the dust?
Would it not be better to go mad and rave,
to court the fair illusion of a greater fire?

My serpents’ fiery tongue
licks my sleeping cold, tired lips,
and reveals this truth to me…

Death is death, and even madness
should soon play us false.
Better to sleep, better to close the curtains tight
against the treacherous laughter of the Light,
and sleep with yet a little fire on the hearth:
Then when the last torrid tongue flickers and is gone,
The sleeper knows it not.
Go now fair lady and sleep.
Your birth, your youth, your prime,
your proud excess, your cosmic fall:
Your mean prize of poverty and dull decline,
your lean possessions now shrunk to fill a little box:
All your senses, your delights,
turned pale and leached of taste,
now ended all, and you are all that’s left
to fill the silences between the ticks of time.
You, my dearest, have paled to a scentless draught
that rusts the heart to a mere foolish ticking clock…

So, now I sleep with him, the Gray.
Though blood and flesh not be shed,
I now have found and end to my despair.
Now my mirror of madness,
reflects only my dark perfection.

~JDR

 

Edited-The Real 7 Deadly Sins

22 Jun

For those interested, here is the edited version of my video.

Thank you to those who took a few moments out of their lives to watch.

I deeply and truly appreciate it and you.

imageedit_5_5615892749

 

Five O’Clock

1 Jun

Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray

*An edited re-post of a recent prose of mine.*
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Five o’clock

It is five o’clock.
The fiery star begins his descent.
I think of all the hands
that are pulling down dingy shades
in a thousand, unremarkable furnished rooms,
bereft of any remarkable life.
I am aware of the damp souls of house maidens
waiting despondently at the door, smiling
and welcoming comfortable companions home,
while their passions flame is slowly extinguished.
Upon the glazen shelves of their abode,
are echos of their own life,
too many unrealized dreams,
written by ardent, burning souls.

My laughter tinkles among the teacups.
My laugh is like an irresponsible child.

Swaying now in the wind like a field of ripe corn,
I stand on the highest stair of her pavement,
lean on the garden urn-calling to her.
I weave, weave, weave,
the fading sunlight of the flameless maidens hair.
Oh my sweet night, she is but as simple and faithless
as a smile and a shake of the hand.

She knows only
A heap of broken images,
where the sun beats fierce and merciless,
And the dead tree gives no shelter,
the cricket no relief,
and the dry stone no sound of water.

There is shadow under the red rock,
I beckon to her, come in under the shadow of this stone,
and I will show you something different from either
your shadow at morning striding behind you
or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you your fear in a handful of dust.

Come with me, my sweet soul.
Or forever be a shape without form,
shade without color,
A paralyzed force,
gesture without motion.
Between the idea
and the reality,
between the pantomime
and the act
that falls to umbra.

I shall remember her,
as a child full of fear
and imagined grace,
I shall remember her,
if at all-
not as a lost violent soul,
but only
as a hollow husk.

And so,to her, in a sanguine whisper,
I utter,
terminate your torment
of love unsatisfied,
of life unfulfilled.
Where shall the truth be found,
where will the truth resound?
Not here, not in the false light of day,
there is not enough silence.

Come with me into the sable forest,
if you can bare the reality.
Our footfalls shall echo in the memory of life
down the passage which you were too scared to take
towards the door you have never opened,
into the night blooming garden,
that you have never seen.

Shall she follow me?
Shall she walk with me?

In my garden…
Garlic and sapphires in the mud
clot the bedded axle-tree.
The trilling wire in the blood
sings below inveterate scars
and reconciles forgotten wars.

At the still point of the beautiful night,
neither flesh nor fleshless.
Sudden in a shaft of moonlight
even while the dust still moves
there rises the hidden laughter
of children in the foliage,
the children of the Crimson Moon.
Quick now, here, always-
Dance! Laugh! Sing! Be the beast!

In my beginning,
in the Dark,
stretching before and after.
The time of the seasons
and the constellations.
The time of milking and the time of harvest.
The time of coupling of man and woman,
and of our beasts.
Feet rising and falling,
eating and drinking.
Dung and death.

In the beginning there was darkness.

It’s five O’clock,
the sun sets now.
We have risen.
We are the new light,
We are the Darklight.

And one last time I say to her,
Come, my sweet child,
for my ravings on this windy night,
shall never echo in your ears again.

It is five O’clock,
where do you want to be?
Who do you want to be?

The church bells ring…
It’s five O’clock.

~JDR

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