Happy Friday the 13th! Lupercalia has begun at BPAL!

[wickedgoddess]

Happy Friday the 13th, all!

 

13

13 is significant, whether you consider it lucky, unlucky or just plain odd. Many believe it to be unfortunate…

 

…because there were 13 present at the Last Supper.

…Loki crashed a party of 12 at Valhalla, which ended in Baldur’s death.

…Oinomaos killed 13 of Hippodamia’s suitors before Pelops finally, in his own shady way, defeated the jealous king.

…In ancient Rome, Hecate’s witches gathered in groups of 12, the Goddess herself being the 13th in the coven.

 

Concern over the number thirteen echoes back beyond the Christian era. Line 13 was omitted form the Code of Hammurabi.

 

The shivers over Friday the 13th also have some interesting origins:

 

…Christ was allegedly crucified on Friday the 13th.

…On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV of France ordered the arrests of Jaques de Molay, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and sixty of his senior knights.

…In British custom, hangings were held on Fridays, and there were 13 steps on the gallows leading to the noose.

 

To combat the superstition, Robert Ingersoll and the Thirteen Club held thirteen-men dinners during the 19th Century. Successful? Hardly. The number still invokes trepidation to this day. A recent whimsical little serial killer study showed that the following murderers all have names that total thirteen letters:

 

Theodore Bundy

Jeffrey Dahmer

Albert De Salvo

John Wayne Gacy

 

And, with a little stretch of the imagination, you can also fit “Jack the Ripper” and “Charles Manson” into that equation.

 

More current-era paranoia: modern schoolchildren stop their memorization of the multiplication tables at 12. There were 13 Plutonium slugs in the atomic bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki. Apollo 13 wasn’t exactly the most successful space mission. All of these are things that modern triskaidekaphobes point to when justifying their fears.

 

For some, 13 is an extremely fortuitous and auspicious number…

 

…In Jewish tradition, God has 13 Attributes of Mercy. Also, there were 13 tribes of Israel, 13 principles of Jewish faith, and 13 is considered the age of maturity.

…The ancient Egyptians believed that there were 12 stages of spiritual achievement in this lifetime, and a 13th beyond death.

…The word for thirteen, in Chinese, sounds much like the word which means “must be alive”?.

 

Thirteen, whether you love it or loathe it, is a pretty cool number all around.

 

…In some theories of relativity, there are 13 dimensions.

…It is a prime number, lucky number, star number, Wilson Prime, and Fibonacci number.

…There are 13 Archimedean solids.

 

AND…

…There were 13 original colonies when the United States were founded.

 

Says a lot about the US, doesn’t it?

 

In our paean to all the mysteries surrounding this enigmatic number, there are thirteen lucky and unlucky components in this fragrance: cacao absolute, Holy basil, Jamaican ginger, High John the Conqueror root, lucky hand root, manzanilla, nutmeg, Queen of the Meadow, star anise, thyme, frankincense, Irish moss, and huckleberry leaf.

 

 

 

WATER DRAGON

A new year’s blessing! Peony, China’s national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, Buddha’s Hand for introspective spiritual growth, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, coconut for camaraderie, chrysanthemum for a life free of grief and struggle, tangerine and orchid for wealth, orange for happiness, lychee for household peace, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat, pussy willow, and quince for prosperity, sesame for sweetness, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, and peach blossom for longevity, with a splash of blazing red of dragon’s blood… to help you scare away the rampaging Nian.

 

 

 

Love is in the air at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, and we’re celebrating the Season of Schtupping in myriad ways!

 

 

 

SMUT 2012

Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes.

 

 

 

WOMB FURIE 2012

In the middle of the flanks of women lies the womb, a female viscus, closely resembling an animal; for it is moved of itself hither and thither in the flanks, also upwards in a direct line to below the cartilage of the thorax and also obliquely to the right or to the left, either to the liver or spleen; and it likewise is subject to falling downwards, and, in a word, it is altogether erratic. It delights, also, in fragrant smells, and advances towards them; and it has an aversion to fetid smells, and flees from them; and on the whole the womb is like an animal within an animal.

– Aretaeus the Cappadocian

 

Oh, that wily womb! Hippocrates and his followers considered the womb a mobile creature, causing mayhem as it writhed its way through a woman’s body. Sometimes this ornery organ, due to lack of sexual activity, would create conflicts within a woman’s system or would become blocked itself, causing anxiety, nervousness, water retention, and sleeplessness. With the assistance of doctors, nursemaids, hand tools, or, occasionally, self-manipulation, this vexing condition could be alleviated through hysterical paroxysms.

 

Or, as we call it nowadays: orgasm.

 

An itch that needs to be scratched: Snake Oil and three types of honey.

 

 

 

And also – a celebration of the language of love:

 

+ LOVE POEMS

THE BALCONY

Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,

O thou, my pleasure, thou, all my desire,

Thou shalt recall the beauty of caresses,

The charm of evenings by the gentle fire,

Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!

 

The eves illumined by the burning coal,

The balcony where veiled rose-vapour clings—

How soft your breast was then, how sweet your soul!

Ah, and we said imperishable things,

Those eves illumined by the burning coal.

 

Lovely the suns were in those twilights warm,

And space profound, and strong life’s pulsing flood,

In bending o’er you, queen of every charm,

I thought I breathed the perfume in your blood.

The suns were beauteous in those twilights warm.

 

The film of night flowed round and over us,

And my eyes in the dark did your eyes meet;

I drank your breath, ah! sweet and poisonous,

And in my hands fraternal slept your feet—

Night, like a film, flowed round and over us.

 

I can recall those happy days forgot,

And see, with head bowed on your knees, my past.

Your languid beauties now would move me not

Did not your gentle heart and body cast

The old spell of those happy days forgot.

 

Can vows and perfumes, kisses infinite,

Be reborn from the gulf we cannot sound;

As rise to heaven suns once again made bright

After being plunged in deep seas and profound?

Ah, vows and perfumes, kisses infinite!

 

- Charles Baudelauire

 

Voluptuous darkness: Bourbon vetiver, red patchouli, honey, helichrysum, and black rose.

 

BODY, REMEMBER

Body, remember not only how much you were loved,

not only the beds on which you lay,

but also those desires for you

that glowed plainly in the eyes,

and trembled in the voice–and some

chance obstacle made futile.

Now that all of them belong to the past,

it almost seems as if you had yielded

to those desires–how they glowed,

remember, in the eyes gazing at you;

how they trembled in the voice, for you, remember, body.

 

- Constantine Cavafy translated by Rae Dalven

 

Profoundly sensual. The echo of caresses: raw black coconut, ambergris accord, ambrette seed, champaca flower, and sugar cane.

 

THE DOOM OF BEAUTY

Choice soul, in whom, as in a glass, we see,

Mirrored in thy pure form and delicate,

What beauties heaven and nature can create,

The paragon of all their works to be!

Fair soul, in whom love, pity, piety,

Have found a home, as from thy outward state

We clearly read, and are so rare and great

That they adorn none other like to thee!

Love takes me captive; beauty binds my soul;

Pity and mercy with their gentle eyes

Wake in my heart a hope that cannot cheat.

What law, what destiny, what fell control,

What cruelty, or late or soon, denies

That death should spare perfection so complete?

 

- Michelangelo Buonarroti

 

An opulent, bittersweet Renaissance-inspired fragrance: Hungary water, parma violets, and roseated oil.

 

ELIZABETH of BOHEMIA

You meaner beauties of the night,

That poorly satisfy our eyes

More by your number than your light,

You common people of the skies;

What are you when the moon shall rise?

 

You curious chanters of the wood,

That warble forth Dame Nature’s lays,

Thinking your passions understood

By your weak accents; what’s your praise

When Philomel her voice shall raise?

 

You violets that first appear,

By your purple mantles known

Like the proud virgins of the year,

As if the spring were all your own;

What are you when the rose is blown?

 

So, when my mistress shall be seen

In form and beauty of her mind,

By virtue first, then choice, a Queen,

Tell me, if she were not design’d

Th’eclipse and glory of her kind?

 

- Sir Henry Wotton

 

Incomparable loveliness: the perfect rose oude.

 

THE FACE OF ALL THE WORLD IS CHANGED, I THINK

The face of all the world is changed, I think,

Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul

Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole

Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink

Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,

Was caught up into love, and taught the whole

Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole

God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,

And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.

The names of country, heaven, are changed away

For where thou art or shalt be, there or here;

And this …this lute and song…loved yesterday,

(The singing angels know) are only dear

Because thy name moves right in what they say.

 

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

Absinthe accord, opoponax, green cardamom, olibanum, honey, prickly juniper, and rockrose.

 

THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

She was only half-dressed

And equally bare trees tossed

Their few leaves against the window pane

Playfully and with reckless abandon.

 

Sprawling half naked in my desk chair,

Hands pressed modestly against her pale breasts,

She tapped small, delicate feet on the floor

Betraying sweet anticipation.

 

Her body was the colour of wax, and I watched

As an eager little ray of light

Fluttered across her laughing lips,

Across her peeking breast, like an insect on the rose-bush.

 

I knelt and kissed her little ankles.

She laughed softly and produced

A perfect string of clear trills,

A delightful crystal laugh.

 

Her delicate feet disappeared

Underneath her: “Stop! You’re so naughty!”

Yet the first act of daring permitted,

She pretended to punish me only with a laugh!

 

I rose and kissed her eyelids softly.

They trembled beneath my lips, poor things:

And she tossed her head back, eyes shining…

“You’re not trying to take advantage of me…are you?

 

“If you are, darling, you know I’ll have to–”

But I silenced the protest, dipping my mouth to her breast,

Which caused an explosion of ringing laughter

And she opened herself willingly…

 

She was only half-dressed

And equally bare trees tossed

Their few leaves against the window pane

Playfully and with reckless abandon.

 

- Arthur Rimbaud

 

Candied apricot and orange blossom honey with grandiflorum jasmine, orris C02, tonka, patchouli, quince, and skin musk.

 

LIAISON

A big bud of moon hangs out of the twilight,

Star-spiders spinning their thread

Hang high suspended, withouten respite

Watching us overhead.

 

Come then under the trees, where the leaf-cloths

Curtain us in so dark

That here we’re safe from even the ermin-moth’s

Flitting remark.

 

Here in this swarthy, secret tent,

Where black boughs flap the ground,

You shall draw the thorn from my discontent,

Surgeon me sound.

 

This rare, rich night! For in here

Under the yew-tree tent

The darkness is loveliest where I could sear

You like frankincense into scent.

 

Here not even the stars can spy us,

Not even the white moths write

With their little pale signs on the wall, to try us

And set us affright.

 

Kiss but then the dust from off my lips,

But draw the turgid pain

From my breast to your bosom, eclipse

My soul again.

 

Waste me not, I beg you, waste

Not the inner night:

Taste, oh taste and let me taste

The core of delight.

 

- DH Lawrence

 

The loveliest darkness, the core of delight: Moroccan black musk, white tea leaf, Indonesian black sandalwood, frankincense, honeycomb, jonquil, and clove.

 

MY SWEEETEST LESBIA

My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love,

And though the sager sort our deeds reprove,

Let us not weigh them. Heaven’s great lamps do dive

Into their west, and straight again revive.

But, soon as once set our little light,

Then must we sleep one ever-during night.

 

If all would lead their lives in love like me,

Then bloody swords and armor should not be;

No drum or trumpet peaceful sleeps should move,

Unless alarm came from the camp of Love:

But fools do live and waste their little light,

And seek with pain their ever-during night.

 

When timely death my life and fortune ends,

Let not my hearse be vext with mourning friends,

But let all lovers rich in triumph come

And with sweet pastimes grace my happy tomb:

And, Lesbia, close up thou my little light,

And crown with love my ever-during night.

 

- Caius Valerius Catullus

 

Osmanthus, hay absolute, ambergris accord, catnip, and Egyptian musk.

 

ON THE DEATH OF HIS MISTRESS

Dost thou wonder that I flew

Charm’d to meet my Leila’s view?

Dost thou wonder that I hung

Raptur’d on my Leila’s tongue?—

If her ghost’s funereal screech

Thro’ the earth my grave should reach,

On that voice I lov’d so well

My transported ghost would dwell:

If in death I can descry

Where my Leila’s relics lie,

Saher’s dust will flit away,

There to join his Leila’s clay.

 

- Abu Sahet Alhedhily

 

Plum musk, ambergris accord, matcha tea, oakmoss, patchouli, violet leaf, and cypress.

 

THE ROSE IN THE DEEPS OF HIS HEART

All things uncomely and broken,

all things worn-out and old,

The cry of a child by the roadway,

the creak of a lumbering cart,

 

The heavy steps of the ploughman,

splashing the wintry mould,

Are wronging your image that blossoms

a rose in the deeps of my heart.

 

The wrong of unshapely things

is a wrong too great to be told;

I hunger to build them anew

and sit on a green knoll apart,

With the earth and the sky and the water,

remade, like a casket of gold

For my dreams of your image that blossoms

a rose in the deeps of my heart.

 

- William Butler Yeats

 

Golden amber, red rose, frankincense, Egyptian musk, galbanum, and immortelle.

 

THE SORROW OF LOVE

The quarrel of the sparrow in the eaves,

The full round moon and the star-laden sky,

And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,

Had hid away earth’s old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips,

And with you came the whole of the world’s tears,

And all the sorrows of her labouring ships,

And all the burden of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,

The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,

And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves,

Are shaken with earth’s old and weary cry.

 

- William Butler Yeats

 

Stargazer lily, white musk, white gardenia, white rose, stephanotis, delphinium, orris root, white sandalwood, bergamot, and magnolia.

 

THE VINE

I dream’d this mortal part of mine

Was Metamorphoz’d to a Vine;

Which crawling one and every way

Enthralled my dainty Lucia.

Me thought, her long small legs & thighs

I with my Tendrils did surprize;

Her Belly, Buttocks, and her Waste

By my soft Nerv’lits were embrac’d:

About her head I writhing hung,

And with rich clusters (hid among

The leaves) her temples I behung:

So that my Lucia seem’d to me

Young Bacchus ravisht by his tree.

My curles about her neck did craule,

And armes and hands they did enthrall:

So that she could not freely stir,

(All parts there made one prisoner.)

But when I crept with leaves to hide

Those parts, which maids keep unespy’d,

Such fleeting pleasures there I took,

That with the fancie I awook;

And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine

More like a Stock, than like a Vine.

 

- Robert Herrick

 

Bradford pear, honey, and vanilla cream.

 

And finally, the porn.

 

 

 

Black Phoenix Trading Post‘s Lupercalia update will be live early next week. Keep your eyes peeled!

 

Coming soon to Dark Delicacies: Pink Lace and Mourning Lace! They will be available in store and at www.darkdel.com in early February.