Seven rooms of Gloom: being an account of what came to pass after a certain hieratic repose

Seven rooms of Gloom: being an account of what came to pass after a certain hieratic repose









a house of stone I stand before.



“secrets pass from mouth to ear, from ear to man’s mouth, which mouth ? “ said he whose flesh was sere, whose tongue whispered, “the mouths are one, the voices are many” said I, whose mind was stone against stone crashed stone against stone, “glister thy ear, my tongue is thine made sevenfold, perfect.” said he, who guided me river-across.

as I had made across the dim lands soberless, rose a vale-valley’s memory, remembered not, but fantasy, a ghost of dreams forgotten spoke, “I am one whose voice resounds from blessed tiredness,  i shall pass thee along to one who is seven.” said he, who churns the rivers of my fantasy.

augured I, abby of seven, of one, each nun none had known, and seven are the rooms made of stone. with sickle tongue and sickle finger welcomed she,“ I welcome You, with face of dog and tongue of lead, come thou forth, enter thou my house, gloom’d as with bones.” she, whose cough had phlegm black as inky wrinkled sea.

“heave of hell, this whole earth a coughing fit, this world, my mucus black bends pale-black, and eternity, my eye had encompassed as a ring, my finger bedight, Joy! sweet joy! think I not but tyrant death, i twirl and twist the ring, joy the world searches for is had, i twirl and twist the ring, tears unceasing.

hades am i? Persephone am I? what you find born and slain in the mind, and I am that mind which births and dies and births and dies, my words and my lies, each comes to pass, for behold, my name is passing, and I am the great one never-ending, I hold vitality in my mouth, for I am vigor”


face of maiden black made to glister as a babe,  shapes of apes in shadow circle the point of light,  “goodbye I do not die, from gloom I pass to gloom  anew, as another face in another room” with black phlegm admixed with the flowing breast milk white, passed away and passed away her whose face is night.

“I chant the cube benefic” said she whose scepter  stretches vertical and horizontal across the deeps of depths phenomenal and nominal, “oceanic I am dressed by waves of wan and glory adorns golden my dress sapphire blue, powder blue as sky, I chant the cube benefic.”

latticed with illusions, delusive in grandeur,  enwrapped with majesty she held the voice of an  archangel, her trumpet blasts of rapture issued “Queen am i, and worlds boundless in bliss obey me, I am abundance and happiness dwell with me,  those I have loved not, say I grant not happiness,  “

said she whose splendor was of countless palaces,  whose handsomeness was of innumerable gems,  “I am the fountain of happiness, drink of me and I will bear you sons of righteousness who will for a thousand generations honor your name as the seal of my convenant-opalescent.”

empress of an empery in eternity nearly did I kneel to thee, for in her dwelled the Idol of fraternity and lustral mercy,  yet a secret vaster than the vastness of space, vaster than the outstretched hand of benevolence, such a great vastness beyond meekness i sought for.

as gargantua grew she, face deformed, gruesome, grotesque each part grew from her foot to her bosom, a thousand gems lost their luster and shattered, rent, rusted, worm-eaten, arabesque in ruin, marble cracked, and her mind became a furnace of fires, flame and ravening fire filled the room with flames.

her form lioneth, and her form tigereth, fiery and fanged saber-toothed, hard as horn, her arms black as iron, if ever power was power so had I known power in her lunge and power in her eye and the roar she spake over me, as I lay downcast and the fire raved around us.

“lady of pain am I, of triangular face and ruddy eye, ruby clawed; each a jag-knife jagged by the stone, each binds you to the rock and each blasts you with the stone, crash I the rock against the cube and thy bones are ground to dusts of dusts of red clay, it is my blood-house born from the dust of red Clay.”

with pentacle-hands she marked the boundaries of  the eyes with red glint, she marked the ears with roaring rage, she marked the tongue with burning blood, she marked the nose with sulphur tainted with cinnamon, her hands of hammers, her claws of spears, each shattereth the bone, each drew the blood which makes red the dust of the dust.

fingers fivefold enfold each sense, makes each debauched, screams the eyes, weeps red the flesh, all forms a Fortress, a garrison, each a warbred  war horse bred for battle, my flesh a fortress each sense fortressed, a garrison each sense to war each bred for war, hoarse, each voice blasting flame on flame, smolders; golden.

her face is filled with golden light, her eyes like jewels of uncountable colors, each gleam with glory and with peace and deeper peace, “the purple face of dawn has blessed the world and war’s voices shall be no more, only the warbler and the peacock‘s song shall issue throughout the many worlds my name.”

how can I a man stare face to face seraphic? and euphony, the holy euphony of lyre, of sweetness, of childhood, womanhood, brotherhood, honor and harmony, yet I shall not recant, my soul, my soul, in passion i cry and incant, the soul chants “beauty, vanity of vanities

thy crown of gold is wrought from falsehood, and thy robe was inwoven not with rainbows of eternal  covenants but with the green of the transient world, though green seas and green bowers are thy resting place, behold thy end, green pus, green mold, green poison, each green thing fades to grey and beauty passes away.”

her face of beauty fell and like the melody of breakers weltering in unity, a siren song of frothing foam was wrapped about her form, at once she was the drinker to the dregs of oceans multitudinous bedight with priceless coral and  behold her flesh has become sacred-nacred.

“naiad or sea-nymph, in each strange sea-change I make, my spume white limbs clasp thy tender face and with my eyes of pearls, my eyes of secrets, my eyes of stars, my eyes of two which behold only one look upon thee, all lesser loves have sought thy worship but not I, I give thee the ceaseless adoration.”

the lyre and the flute have not sang songs of glory, the ice crowned mountains have not been crowned with glory, the fruit tree deep in the grove neither has glory, nor has the rose and the violet the glory with which she had kissed my face, the glory of perfumes of breath offered with the kisses of her lips.

her seven fires of adoration had nearly dissolved me, the waves of bliss had nearly over taken me,  the kiss of her lips had driven me below the mountains, the earth with her bars was about me forever, but the flame of the heart is an all devouring fire and spoke thus;

“true love descends not like pouring rains nor weltering of undulating waters, consider the  morning dew which gently blesses invisibly each flower, consider the child who has fallen asleep, his father placing him secretly in his bed, love has no need of eyes, both share an i.”

the shrieking of her voice, the snarling of her mouth, the spewing from her guts the glut of gems each glinted with limpid anger-glimmer of colors incredible, each a million million lights of whirling, all things become swirling in admixture, first as all lights, then as one light, then cold without light.

in quiet darkness and alone I sat without the voice of stranger nor of lover nor of I, yet the voice of the specter of I, with my own voice in me did she begin to speak, as a ghost lacking image, lacking color, in darkness she spake about the thought through the thought to thought of thought.

“you gaze and gaze into the world and each thing is first opaque, yet through your gaze the glare is torn away, for you strip it of its vestment and leave it as nothing but an aggregate, a bundle, lines and lines connecting categories with stray desires, do not be fooled, each is a  slave-master.

come and drink of endless waters, eat until your  stomach has burst! do not sit! do not sit! blaze  ablazed I must roam, ablazed from each gaze. in this way each desire has dominion over you. they are shadows of shadows, each the shade of a greater depth, a greater chasm, a category.


the mind. (what the foolish call by the name of soul.) is an empty pit. and this empty pit has caverns. each cavern is a prison. each prison is an abyss. each abyss is a category. desire ends in emptiness. desire is born from emptiness. it is the abyssal wind.

round and round it seeks for nothing and finds nothing, rest your wind, rest in me, maketh nothing-nothing. maketh the voice of nothing echo-echo in the abyss of categories leaving an illusion of Logos, rest in me and desire, lack of desire, both and neither become one.”

with eightfold array stood the voice in the center, and I beheld in my intellect her spectral dance as the ninth secret, the eight are four fold twice, these are the propositions;being is, being is not, being is both, being is neither, the inverse; not-being is, is not, both and neither.

she in spectral guise, with inner gaze, with my voice spake “I am the eight in one and beyond one, I am empty for i am dark, the profound depth is my dwelling and behold, I curse the image and I curse the music and I curse all that profane the bellowing of my billion billion voices.”

I saw her dance the dance of categories stilled in contemplation eightfold, for each category is one of her eight worlds, I had nearly proclaimed her Voces magicae the essence of my I, but my soul remembered that beyond the vale of death and emptiness dwells the heavens infinite.

my spirit sang a song unsingable of things  unthinkable, mysteries of silver keys  and running streams, children running where the wren sung along, I saw the weaving of forgotten  memories into dreams, i saw angels pouring blessings on the smile of my son, none was empty of me.

never can it be that emptiness dwells with me I intoxicated with worlds of ecstasy no never can I empty be I  am he who has filled eternity with me ever in eternity this world never has been empty of the ecstasy of the eternity of me.

the mental fury fell by the might of peace and  deeper peace, happiness and greater happiness,  the lamps of twilight and the will-o-wisps gathered mingling the darkness with shattered golden light,  behold the light is I and the darkness is she, thus she took on my imaginative garment.

as halved moon’s mirror my face reflected, crescent curved the lady-serpentine about me, “I cant the canticle kaleidoscopic” said she, twisting circular, showing paths of flowers and of many great trees, “convolve you and I, am I not blossomed convolvulus convolved with thy bosom?”

she coiled her scales of prismatic hypnogogia both dissolving and congealing each flight of fancy and each sensation into an elixir of dream-delirium neither delusive nor Illuminative being a perfect eclipse of I and not I mingled as a serpent;

mystic Dawn and wine Red Sea, the pillars of eternity, the black wyvern and the simurgh white,  the howling hunter of the night, phylacteries of Jew and lich; the hourglass and the kabbalist Kaaba-cube which encompasseth it, each is vortexed in tornado-spirals of serpent coils.

“I am the bridge beyond the dale through waters pale, i am the vale whose veil is many-splendored  scales each inscribed with seals of sigils of letters  of images of ideas of words unheard externally, that exist eternally-internally, for tail-in-mouth my sovereign name is death.

Virgin am I who am mother of the ten thousand things, for each is born from me and each is slain in me, illumination of illusion is i, behold what must come, behold what has passed, I am their child-mother, in one sphere two headed i am the thricefold emblem of life and death fourfold.”

debased, though limitless lights lived and leapt from her each leapt forth malformed and debauched, as if a name shattered by a rock against the cubic stone and divided as if with lots, each ten thousand shards allotted to the winds to cycle about forever, and each cycle the twist of serpent coils.

the Great one who lives and triumphs, he who is my own faith spake thus “as a dreamer in a dream who soon forgets the things of dream, putting off both evil and good from it, in this same way so also do I cast off the fantasies of these worlds and rest in the unchanging sanctuary of God.

without sight I have seen the boundless worlds, without sight I have seen all the hosts of heaven and hell, I have seen all of the glories hoary and without sight I reject them all, by my insight I see the presence of only one to whom I bow, by my insight I see he, who is kingdom’s king. “


in that moment I beheld the lady serpent become black and still, her face as if the flame of offering and the dark one of the valley, obscured but in her obscurity she gained profundity more profound than the profound, and beauty more beautiful than beauty, for she was perfect.

her eyes glowed like furnaces of fire and she  spoke “I am the seven rooms of gloom but gloomy  am I not, for it is good to gloom the self with  darkness and be rejected, for by the scorning of my name and my rejection, by this my fall, I have become She-Shekinah-Shakti-divine.”

the fire of her eyes burnt greater and greater with worship unstained, neither selfless nor selfish, it is the fire of the heart! it is the fire of the heart!  I am caught! I am caught up in the strong and immortal fire which flasheth from eternity and throughout the universes!

Shadrach! Meshach! Abednego! sons of Arron!  Baal and Elijah! great Holocaust Pentecost!  Holocaust Pentecost! Phoenix phosphoric and  pneumatic! Phoenix phosphoric and pneumatic! I, I adore thee! with the cry of my self and the other I cry the cry ouroboric!

garden-galgatha-golgonooza-Gethsemane am I, sacrificing speech, ideal, image and action in the furnace, and from this ore I forge my spirit, Albion-Adam, an idol and in the delusive flames of love I destroy the idol and my I and am reborn as joy.

I son-father am, nothing and being I become, phenomenological my father phantom am i, five fathoms sensual, empiric and eidetic, each intuition is transcendentally given from I to i, each Adumbration I become i, each ideation i annihilates my I, and unchanging, through the seven rooms, my true name is Love.