ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  April 2019
volume 16 number 1
-table of contents-
  contributing poets
  Michelle Angelini
  luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal
  Jack G. Bowman
  Lynne Bronstein
  Deborah Edler Brown
  Anna Cates
  Beverly M. Collins
  Chella Courington
  David Flynn
  Paul Hellweg
  Glenn Ingersoll
  Scott C. Kaestner
  lalo kikiriki
  John Leonard
  Cynthia Linville
  Marieta Maglas
  Xavier McIves
  Scott Thomas Outlar
  bc petrakos
  Diana Rosen
  Walter Ruhlmann
  David Scriven
  Megha Sood
  Terrence Sykes
  Perry Terrell
  Tim Tipton
  Davide Trame
  Roman Tunkel
  mailing list
Xavier McIves
April 2019



art by sonjaye maurya

    Xavier McIves is a poet, hymnist, and filmmaker presently living in the woodsy hills of the Tehachapi mountains in California.
    Some locals report that he has been seen prowling around the countryside late at night in a goat's body, undoubtedly by means of witchcraft.
    These reports are, of course, nonsense.
    Xavier practices the magickal and mystical tradition called Thelema.
    His current musical project



The Dame Fad Ra


In the council whose cirrus seats
Ring my cherished Sierra peaks
A nod is given to order
And the relieving angel descends
Or such is my prayer
Who long succubus nights have opened
My petals to bodiless suitors
Who icily and absently enjoyed my fruits
Leaving not even so much
As a memory behind
With the vice of vile doubt-seed curling
Sagging my shoulders
And setting a cigarette frown
Wearing into my jaw
The mantras and the sole means
Of warmth in these wasted ages
Even the hail-bent rending winds
Are blankets of Her affection
And I hope - but I dare not hope
There - to look - and to know-
To be Desire revealed
In the jade-dripping smile
Of the High Courtesan at rule
In her seat atop the sultan’s gold


It is scarcely bearable
This thought whose many-faced rapture
Imagines torments and torments imagination
Heel, my Son, and heal, my Sun
The way is alive alike in the starving
And the feasting
How long, you ask
till the antidote grace
our word-beaten lips again?
How long till the druidess boon is granted
Who turns apart time to look down
With great kindness
My gardens will grow
My Xanadus will be pressed without mercy
From the murderous desert grape
And my mandate is made in good wisdom
But now I retire for the royal repast
I prepare my evening spoil
And the sap of Yggdrasil serves
the winter womb and the snowdrift castle


You must have more than patience, my boy
But joy, and joy and joy and copper cocooned
In black corneas Star-pregnant
My way is not right
My way is
My medicine skull spills and scalds
Your breast: You wish to falter:
You will not.
Oh nightmare, nightmare astern
Play in My thorns and the clocks will grind Forward and forward with a dooming reich
And stir the old behemoth awake
His shawled servitors yet deaf to his trumpet
Shutting and opening the doors for centuries
As the rockets engorged on reveries
Burst upward; The Homodeusine Inaugurates
All my days remaining and beyond them
Over the lip of the basin into which all life drops
Long before our mortal toll
Can offer even hope of escape
Maria who guides me, Babalon who rides me
For your dominion I wend my way

copyright 2019 Xavier McIves