Month: June 2023

the Pentagram of Venus

“The tips of the five loops at the center of the figure have the same geometric relationship to one another as the five vertices, or points, of a pentagram, and each group of five intersections equidistant from the figure’s center have the same geometric relationship.” (source)

“The motif of a heavenly being striving for the highest seat of heaven only to be cast down to the underworld has its origins in the motions of the planet Venus, known as the morning star. The Sumerian goddess Inanna (Babylonian Ishtar) is associated with the planet Venus, and Inanna’s actions in several of her myths, including Inanna and Shukaletuda and Inanna’s Descent into the Underworld appear to parallel the motion of Venus as it progresses through its synodic cycle. (source)

“In the Book of Isaiah, chapter 14, the king of Babylon is condemned in a prophetic vision by the prophet Isaiah and is called הֵילֵל בֶּן-שָׁחַר (Helel ben Shachar, Hebrew for “shining one, son of the morning”), who is addressed as הילל בן שחר (Hêlêl ben Šāḥar). The title “Hêlêl ben Šāḥar” refers to the planet Venus as the morning star, and that is how the Hebrew word is usually interpreted. The Hebrew word transliterated as Hêlêl or Heylel, occurs only once in the Hebrew Bible. The Septuagint renders הֵילֵל in Greek as Ἑωσφόρος (heōsphoros), “bringer of dawn”, the Ancient Greek name for the morning star. Similarly the Vulgate renders הֵילֵל in Latin as Lucifer, the name in that language for the morning star. According to the King James Bible-based Strong’s Concordance, the original Hebrew word means “shining one, light-bearer”, and the English translation given in the King James text is the Latin name for the planet Venus, “Lucifer”, as it was already in the Wycliffe Bible.” (source)

#10

Antarctica feigns innocence way down at the bottom of the globe, so designated “bottom” by lords of the realm wholly unworthy of their power, begotten as it was in treachery. Beneath the ice teem secrets that would threaten the pretense of their little game, the Real Story, not that hack production spun to keep the unwitting ensnared in a subtle system. Yet even among the asleep, those hylic unknowers, there is an unstillable something that chafes at being so tightly bound. One holds out hope. The signs await discerning eyes; they do not hide. The helical fall of a star forewarns inundation, the transit of Mars square Venus suggests heartbreak, and I cannot figure what the waning of the coming days will mean. But perhaps you will join me, an imperial friend, ever on the hunt for cracks to slip through and finally make contact with what is actual. A sighing string section moans out a drone, held a touch longer than is bearable, to the point where its end, ringing just outside the ear, becomes a cause for fear. Yet we continue on, past the breaks in the crumbling ice, unconvinced the world won’t continue on to, ebbing and flowing to rhythms only perceived beneath, above, even around, but not according to, “mundane awareness.” If only it were mundane! A voice whispers something exists only in esotericism. What? Who’s there? A cosmic sneer, and the scent of tequila.

From the glories of the Tang Dynasty
I recall only one date: the year
the usurper An Lushan
drove both Wang Wei and Du Fu

far from the corrupt court
into the mountains
where for the first time they were free
to write the only poems we remember.
Peter Dale Scott, “The Tao of 9/11”