Repression
| Dionysus Out of the lost wastes of time I come, Dionysus. God of visions toadstool induced madness wine inflamed debauchery. Horned one, prong headed, stag headed, bull headed. Phallic god of harvest and fertility. Like the corn I die and am cast down, like Christ in spring I am reborn. Put to death by a virgin, who dies at my hand. Green and fecund as woodland like the woodland I am redolent with decay. The women worshiping in my grove madden with lust, turn to brutal frenzy. I, the divine child, son of the wise one. Found the world over wherever such witch food as flycap grows. Consuming and consumed by it tumescent male becomes god, is worshiped, dies. Entangled in my own ivy throngs I am dismembered by women, torn limb from limb, a sacrament, they taste my flesh, drink my wine blood. Through them I am reborn. They through me. |
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Repression |
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