"Luci’s Flower"
I am the star that shines in the morning,
I am knowledge, I am mourning.
I am that which kings and popes despise.
My words, pure truths, what your leaders call lies.
I am your loins, on fire they yearn.
I am your lust, like a flame I burn.
I am your God, if free you be.
Yet I am not worshiped, unless you become me.
I adore thee in thy joy; I adore thee in thy pain.
I, I adore thee, my beloved flames.
Aum Ha

!
"A Lie"
A lie is merely man's means
of creating reality.
Therefore, truth itself is
but a lie, and man is god,
and gods are liars.
Reality is subjective, and is
as diverse, as those masses of
mad men, proclaiming their sanity.
"The End"
!

"Liber Naught"
Beastly spelling,
I do agree.
Midnight glow of insanity.
Yet how can I agree?
When I say I is not me.
This idea, or that thought,
what is all this fucking rot?
I am this, but that is not?
O bang my head against the wall!
But if I is not my, then who's
head takes the fall?
Blasted is this reasoning,
this truth in pure lies!
Yet all has grown quiet
as who's voice then dies.
Questions from no-one,
from no-one true lies.
The End

"The Truth"
A race is built on
the foundation of its culture.
A culture is built on the
foundation of its beliefs.
When one race refuses to
acknowledge another races
right to exist, that is racism.
When one belief refuses to acknowledge
any other beliefs right to exist,
that is fundamentalism.
The End

"Child Hood"
I questioned the church.
I questioned authority.
I questioned my parents,
and they just ignored me.
Such is our state, such is our plite.
No hope for the youth,
no star in sight.
The End

“Magick without words”
         Surrounding and penetrating is the all.  
From within to without and back again.
The micro and macro spun like steel.
From inside to outside through pure will.
The spark is a flame, the flame a shout.
Behold a six rayed star, in being still, by going far.
Art thou no place, but will a star, a beacon in the light?
The end

"A bite from the book LXV"
Appep, O golden serpent,
coil around my heart.
Maat weigh it, may it be found true.
O mighty gods of Egypt,
this mad poet is in love with you.
Drink my lusting vampire gods.
Suckle the scarlet rose petal offerings,
my life, my soul, my sweet smelling blood.
For I have likened myself unto the great fanged one,
as did the Ibis before me.
As he so I beheld the site, of the humming bird's last flight.
As he, so I, thank thee for the gift.
My mind aflame and sent adrift.
To sail the Nile in a little boat.
Then slip out of sight, like a puff of smoke.
The End

"HEART OF US"
Gnawing and gnashing
like a dog at the
heart of his master.
I too thirst the blood
of those who would bind me
in servitude.
Patronize me with a penny?
Mock me, though it is my toil
that feeds your prosperity.
The sanctuary of my honorable labor
is forever lost,
burnt in the flames
of your madness.
You, the new aristocracy.
Damn you, and your bleed-a-penny ways.
We are a society, and as a society
we must, all of us, account for
each and every one of us.
How can any one man
deny any other, the same quality of life
and opportunities produced by
being a society?
God and Glory be damned
the day I see a street sweeper
being treated as nothing less than the
highest and most respectable of citizens.
All work shall be rewarded,
for it benefits all.
All work is good,
be it, that it benefits all.
We all hunger, rich or poor.
This is common for all.
But must we be like animals
and covet everything within our grasps?
If man truly loved man,
society would not be a mass of
frenzied parasites, but a paradise
of people, working together
toward a common goal,
prosperity for all.
The End

"LIBER OF THE GOAT"
000 Manifest NAUGHT!
00 Hide NAUGHT!
0 All rewards are naught!
1 Listen O Man and ye Woman
There is dire need to understand
this well.
To know me,
experience is the only spell.
A pathway sure straight from hell.
2 Do not seek me,
instead, harmonize all things.
Then, when diversity is no longer,
know ye have come a little
to taste of me.
3 Now the mystery continues.
Who or what be the puppeteer?
What force is it that pushes thy pen?
It is I, Satan,
and this be the holiest of lies.
For in names as this,
it seems to miss,
the truth of all,
we don't exist.
4 To call on me,
experience the nothing.
In this way,
my name does serve as key.
Know its use?
Do ye fool?
Knowledge, profuse?
Have ye the tool?
5 If this be so, then call on me.
Call, call, to eternity.
And if thee fail?
Thus in truth, ye do mock me!
I will cast thee back to the well
of insanity.
The agonizing pit,
the slime, christianity
6 Alas, no true worship of me,
have I known.
No glory, nor praises,
to me has been shown.
The enemy of thee, O people,
have placed their name upon my face.
Adversary of Man,
to be damned, cursed, disgraced.
7 Am I not in truth the beautiful image?
The light of life, the spark of knowledge,
Lucifer, angel of the morning star?
In truth, with both names am I complete
An angel true, with cloven feet
8 Enough of me, for I am no-thing
There is this Man
To write you this
Thus bring my word, the law of bliss.
9 He invited me, to sing and dance.
Laugh and drink, smoke his hash.
I found in him, a way to pass,
the secret of secrets, to you at last.
10 To come to naught,
find thy lover.
Dissolve as none, not one, nor other.
In this, thy palace,
thou shall feel,
that you are me,
and we're not real.
11 So dissolve you pairs!
Dissolve to none.
This be the way, to me to come.
For God and Goddess both are me,
experience and lust,
Ecstasy.
12 Unite, unite,
let all be utterly destroyed!
Union of opposites,
to be employed.
13 Thus the vast universes of light,
collapse before my awesome might.
They that work the law abide,
change is life and none have died!
14 Know life for all will never cease,
mass continuum, all prisoners released.
Now fold, collapse, dissolve,
pure peace.
What never was, can never cease.
15 The time has come,
Oh era of mirth.
Love and rapture,
has returned to earth.
So, shout it out throughout the land.
The HE GOAT with breasts,
gave birth to a man.
The End

"A SPARTAN IN WAKE"
Christians like Athenians,
bring my gut to ache.
To visions of Sparta,
IO PAN let me wake.
Raise Hercules, with a lion heart.
To tear their wretched souls apart!
O God itself, has grown wholly sick.
IT has let the seven furies rip.
The blood of christians, for all to sip.
Their pain and suffering, to wet the lips.
PAN IO PAN, true god of man!
Cut the throat of the lamb!
To me, to thee, make it bleed!
Justice for the dirty deed!
Raise a slave to majestick creed?
I trample thee, crush thee, under hoof of my steed!
For all the putrid meek you breed!
Not you nor them do I have need!
HADIT, NUIT, my father, my mother,
hawk-headed HORUS, myself, my brother.
ISIS, my sister, my lover to take.
Sounds like a holy incestial state.
The mystery is we create,
through time, unwind, and separate.
Damn you christians, I laugh at your fate,
matters little how much you hate.
PAN IO PAN IO PAN IT will wake!
The End

"Only if You Believe it"
There is a God, and he shall reward
the righteous in heaven.
Psychics are modern day magicians,
for they heal the ills of fate, mind, and body.
The mad poet is a prince of pestilence.
He is a plague upon all societies.
Governments exist only for
our best interest.
They are the mothers and fathers of our prosperity.
Teachers and learning institutions deal
only in facts and scientific method.
Never in personal opinion, or popular propaganda.
Thinking is best left to professionals.
Only if you believe it.
The End

"I Could, but I Wont, I Do what I will"
A Wiccan walked up to me
and said, "Your aura shines
a menacing red. You should
curb your anger, befriend your foes.
Worship fairies and goddesses,
not devils and trolls".
I replied with a grin,
as I wiped his blood from my chin.
"Then bless me and love me,
by your law, amen".
The end

"Mad Poet's Mindless Misery Tour"
Let me take you on a trip. A tour through my mind.
Picturesque and abstract, with a pinch of the sublime.
My early days were rebellious, authority under mine.
Though my parents beat me badly,
I occupied their time.
Adolescence was another story, a trip all of its own.
Even when a good dog, I'd never get a bone.
So from there I became a sailor,
seventeen and out to sea.
A fucked up twisted mass of mess,
they'll make a man of me.
So two years of Asian orgies and tons of LSD.
Scaring the chaplain silly, till the first Louie called on me.
"You're a sick and twisted man Margolin,
on that we all agree We have had enough of you,
good day to you, a civilian you will be".
Insanity equals freedom; life's lesson number three.
And what of one and two you ask?
They're still eluding me.
I'm writing this at thirty-four, my son is six,
my wife is bored. I'm a journeyman of many-a trade.
I come home drunk and still get laid.
My thoughts on life are pure and simple.
Society is a cyst, lets pop the pimple!
The End

"A Feast For A Beast"
Round runs the wheel, Strangely so the square.
A balance is made amidst the eternal heavens.
A balance that is, and is not existence.
The implication of one, asserts the other.
This my version of why Cane slew his brother.
The act, was the perfection of the seed of his father,
and so prospered the fruit of his mother.
This I call, Lillith justified & equilibrated.
In this way Eve was saved from sure destruction.
But now it is in Eve that lies Lillith's resurrection.
Yea, let us not forget Abel in my story of deception.
His life's sacrifice was not mere malediction,
but a reoccurring booster to my unholy contradiction.
Forever returning as I need to insure the selfless deed.
My lamb to Jehovah, a Christ to let bleed.
The comet, the star, to shine through the heavens.
The body of a savior to be devoured by ravens.
The bright red strips hanging from our lips.
His blood to quench our age long thirst.
Delicious to the last and yea from the first.
So let us rejoice, and beckon his return.
True it is mutton wolves really yearn.
Along with the ravens, vultures, and such.
So send one more Christ!
Is that asking too much?
The End

"Masturbation an act of Faith"
I've licked the goddess.
I've kissed the goat.
Before me stands mine own may pole.
Do I stroke?
I adorn it with the holy oil.
I bless it with my passion.
May it spew its grand emission.
The seeds of eternity, ejaculation.
The End

"THE MUCH REQUESTED LETTER"
Dear Fra Superior,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Unless of course, one finds himself in the O.T.O.
and under your repressive regime.
Creative freedom is the fruit
of Thelema!
Is it the government that orders
you to plow your crops asunder?
Or is it Fear? Or etc. etc. etc.?
Respect for individual thought
and support of individual rights
was, and still is the crown of
Thelema.
Yea verily, and that crown is worn on
the brows of all free peoples.
I, Acbhb cast this stone
into thy belly.
Liber OZ is not only the rights
of man but also of O.T.O. initiates.
I've told the protestants,
under O.T.O. house; under O.T.O. rules.
But even I've got to argue
over the ownership of that house.
The O.T.O. is for its members,
and so is your post.
If a person quotes the Book of the Law
that is his right and curse.
Who are you to remove the ordeals?
Who are you to stop Cane from slaying Abel?
CALIPH?
HA!, your post has gone to your head
old soldier.
Sincerely, I mean a little disrespect.
But to stand by and watch the
rose choked by a weed.
Breaks my oath, an oath eternal
Unlike the ones thou knowest.
I, Acbhb ask you Caliph,
Stop your restrictions on essays, articles, etc
printed under the flag of the O.T.O.
Stop your restrictions on life styles
and consumption's.
These are our virtues.
I, Acbhb ask you to look upon
the diversity of our most blessed order
and embrace it,
nourish it, and love it.
Love is the law, love under will.
Sincerely,
Frater Inferior
Acbhb
The Mad Poet
Michael S Margolin

"The Incubus"
My kisses brush your lips like the flutter
of moth wings. My touches, but a whisper
breeze. You feel I am there, yet not there.
This is your desire, and tormenting terror.
You yearn for me, yet fear me.
You beg for me, then shun me
at the moment of our union.
So by might I take you, taste you,
bathe in your flower. While my lust fills
your loins, your soul I devour.
The call of your womanhood is the
strength of my life.
Though a man may replace me, you're
forever my wife.
The End

"AMERICAN FLAG"
White pentagrams on the
naked brilliance the night sky, my love.
Ever dripping with the red stripes of blood,
on the white lines of endangered truths.
The End

"RAMBLING ON CENSORSHIP"
A chalice to thy lips.
A toast to the fool.
Laughter and folly frolic in Sodom.
Nymphs of Babylon in
Celebrations of whoredom.
4 6 3 8 A B K 2 4 A L G M O R 3 Y X
24 89 R P S T O V A L
Shit feeds flowers,
flowers make fruit.
Pan dancing in a meadow
to a jazz the his flute.
A crow sat to watch the scene,
and wrote some books some called obscene.
Now what's so bad about men's dreams?
The goat was a girl, or so it seemed.
The End