Native Americans and National Socialism
Native Americans Chief Red Cloud & Chief New Moon
“Nostalgia for another Sun beyond all suns: the Black Sun, the Green Thunderbolt, something non-existent, that has been lost. We do the same with the Mountain, the Tree, the River. Joy, beauty, love and strength fall away and are achieved, in this religion as ancient as the world, stemming from everything that is behind the symbol, that Nature only reflects and our soul captures. Because "things come to us eager to become symbols," as Nietzsche once said. The contemporary Christian, direct heir to all the hatred against beauty of the Jew, has poisoned Nature for us, first spiritually, deforming the pagan sense of life, and then physically, contaminating her, envenoming her with its products of a Jew technology and science that will eventually destroy her, as the most logical expression of their hidden hatred, preventing her transfiguration. The Nostalgia of nature, in pre-history, is expressed in the cult of the Light of the Year and the Sun, as symbol of this Nostalgia of a different Sun, one beyond the Sun, spiritual seed and Light of another earth. In the Nordic-Atlantean strain this Nostalgia was represented by means of enigmatic magic signs, Runes. The Ancient Sun, the Black Sun, beyond the visible Sun and for which Nostalgia is felt, and who is the Man To Come, who will return. The vîra extends his arms towards him every sunrise, towards this Sun beyond the sun. He is the man with his arms extended upwards. The Hyperborean who has lost this Other Sun is the man plunging into the abyss of night in this land, with his arms open and extended downwards. My giants within the Mountain. The Man Rune: and the Yr Rune: . When the Light of the Black Sun has disappeared the vîra takes refuge in the Mother Cavern, to await return, rebirth, resurrection of the Ancient Sun. Frederick Barbarossa goes to the Cavern of Kyffhauserberg and Hitler to a cavern in Tibet, a Mountain of the Andes or the icefields of Antarctica. They will enter into sleep, dream, hibernation. guarded by the Ravens of Wotan until the return of the Light of the Black Sun, opening of the "Window" of the Cave, which will allow the pronunciation of a magic New Word, a New Rune that will break the Cycle of cycles of Eternal Return, of the Calendar Year of Brahma. And the world will be the Hagal Rune: , formed by the conjunction of the Man Rune, that of Life, and the Yr Rune, that of Death. Total-Man, Reborn, Twice-Born, the Aryan. This Rune already has the form of a Star of Six Points (that the Jews would steal). In truth the Star of Morning which is also the Evening Star, Yepun and Oiyehue,Double Star of Lucifer, Irmin, Wotan, Quetzalcoatl. Star of Warrior Initiation; Star of the Watchmen of Aurora, Watchers of the Dawn, those who go in the direction of Hyperborea, towards the return of the Black Sun, to the rediscovery of the continent submerged in waters of their own souls. And when this takes place, when men are reborn, they shall take the Hagal Rune and make it rotate leftwards, in the direction of Hyperborea, of the North Pole (that is now the South Pole) and transform it into the Swastika of Esoteric Hitlerism. The Black Sun revolving backwards towards the origin, towards the Green Thunderbolt. Black Sun of polar midnight. None of this is human imagination. They can not invent these things. That great Chilean poet Omar Caceres said: "Not a thought, oh poets! Poems there await us." Hyperborean poems. If there were someone's imagination in all this, "it is the cosmic imagination," as Otto Rahn would write.
The Hyperborean Archetype is an extra-cosmic poem writing itself on this earth through the heroes of both sexes, those who deliver their lives like a blank page so that He may write his redemptive immortal poems on them.”
Obligatory distraction
mass justification
clueless obliteration
soul evacuation…
Death of the Nation?
genocidal eradication,
turmoiled, mandatory vacation
cruel vaccination
yearns for jagged,
plain explanation…
Where do we go from here,
do we shamelessly interfere?
Blood-murdering stains equal children's eternal pains
Looking from the outskirts in
this menacing, preying ball of Damocles sins
Suns are up, while another innocent body, violently drops
We are swimming in vile, bastardized solution
we are watching blunt and depraved contusion
of human race…
at an extraordinary, inhuman pace
Narrow is now,
desperate, human face
evil always wears a mantle hidden in sour disgrace
Hydras hands are invokers of this Sophocles’ deadly, chastized romance
Last, heroic stance…brings a sainted white avalanche
Obligatory path to submerged and bloody decadence
Is dark Road to Twisted, small-minded Malevolence
when dubious and putrid actor dwells
even then, creation is a potent inmate that silently creates
sends away rays of thousand years old hate
write new Cosmic laws as a newly appointed magistrate
Createt are doppelgangers’ acts of reverence
in the poems, they are sleeplessly hidden in a sentence
They wake up when the right hero comes
they know only then they will be dreaming in the right homes
Where are trails of suffocating hate, there are acts of unkillable love
and…
Love always sleeps under the radiant whisper of the white cove
love never shies away from the brightness of the white dove
She is the ultimate Egregore
That true heavens adore…
No matter what happens she is on her way home.
Ambiguous characters crossed shadowy paths
These disfigured beings created a future that just can’t last
The news is full of decapitated and lobotomized trash
Expectations of the final, judging blast
will this time, humanity finally last?
What happens once,
what happened in the past?
can it happen again…
Will this time, the tyrannical Dragon be slain?
the cataclysm of the human mind
will die shamelessly in vain?
Blue clouds are riding a starry sky
is there no other way?
All these people are standing still and pray
do they, really
not know the way?
Are they, just beings made of simple, porous clay
for them,
morning is just another rotten day
a spectral place, where they can shamelessly play
And never question about a wonderous mystery of a newborn day?
Just cluelessly pray
invoking
next morning,
next emerging day?
Hunter doent’t pray, he seizes the day
Salvation Sleeps is the color of gray
the middle is the way
this is how reality plays
this is how sacred sways
This is how you should begin your day
or pray
obey
never question
never doubt
what happens
after the rains drop from the first, smiling cloud
Just go about
and live in constant doubt
Broken automated Sheep or digitally programmed Sheppard
Imprisoned Lamb or vagabond leopard
Prisoner in a black cloud
broken, subjugated thought
Apparition born with one learned nod
Be an unstoppable thought
Perfect vision must be vigorously brought
but, this is never taught
this is always gallantly fought…
To be or to be not?
An Angel always awakens
when sacred life is unashamedly taken
Morning sirens are for those who are already awaken
Late gongs are for the shapeless Androids that are already, taken
Truman Show, never last
This pitiful, beggars made contrast
always turns to forgotten, vain dust
My friend
Can you last…
in this magick Cosmos
that is vast?
can you be…
the last heroic
unbroken, outcast…
When all the world
turns into transparent Dust
When hidden shadows turn into blackened crust
Life is for those who can understand
the real meaning of the word Trust
If you don’t know by now,
learn this you must…
How else will you be
The last standing Outcasts?
I don’t know if this poem is finished but, here it is… let's say the song from Tiamat(video) is a Bonus..it is really well written.
From last night: Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest
I could write some more, but there are things to do, world to see…
And some secrets are just made for me…..wink, wink…
Dear Ladies and Astute Gentlemen have an excellent day full of magickal wonders, Brighter Than The Sun.
Cheers!
Excellent HP, and I'm loving the artwork choice on this one my friend, and the Oscar Wilde link, one of my favourite authors... So much so that my Siamese Cat familiar is named Bosie after Lord Alfred Douglas...
Bloody awesome! I've said it before so forgive my redundancy, you just keep topping yourself, HP. " ... angels always awaken ... " is a verity that only those who have experienced it can know. Master Serrano made note of the youth born with an innate knowledge of the truth of the Ultimate Avatar, in the years immediately following the monstrous, Yid instigated, Aryan genocide known as World War Two. My father was a W.W. 2 combat veteran of the army and he told me on more than one occasion we fought on the wrong side and the Great One was right. However, I knew this viscerally even as a very young whelp. We are children of the realm of unmanifested, uncreated, unsplit, light, the Elysium fields of Hyperborea, the Aryan Avalon. Let the children of the Demiurge do their worst. Cosmic payback is a motherfucker. Jack; Nietzsche also wrote that Christianity poisoned Eros. This was largely promulgated by Jewry's brother rabbis in the Roman Catholic Church, A plague on both their synagogues. Thanks, HP.