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Obituary for HP Olivia 2

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Olivia Robertson – Obituary

Olivia Robertson was a daughter of the Ascendancy who ran an order devoted to the ‘Divine Feminine’ from her Irish castle

Olivia Robertson with her brother Lawrence presiding over ceremonies in their temple Photo: ALAMY

Olivia Robertson, who has died aged 96, was the co-founder, archpriestess and hierophant of the Fellowship of Isis, an order devoted to the worship of the “Divine Feminine”, which she ran from her haunted ancestral pile, Huntington Castle (also known as Clonegal Castle), in Co Carlow, Ireland.

A member of an old Irish Ascendancy family, Olivia Robertson had immersed herself in psychic and spiritualist studies from an early age, and had become convinced that God was a “She” after a series of visions.

About the first of these — which occurred when she was 29 – she was evasive, explaining that describing the experience to a non-mystic was like “trying to explain colour to someone born blind or a symphony to someone who’s deaf”. Whatever the details, the experience convinced her that she was “clairaudient, clairvoyant and telepathic” and set her on a religious quest.

Olivia Robertson with acolytes of the Foundation of Isis

She continued to believe in a male God — until the Egyptian fertility goddess Isis paid her a visit. “She seemed to be made of crystallised white light,” she recalled. “Her black hair was parted in the middle and she wore a violet and pale green dress, very modern, I thought. She seemed a cross between a queen, a ballet dancer and a gym mistress… We had a long conversation, but afterwards I couldn’t remember any of it.”

Later she was visited by an Irish goddess called Dana and felt an intense happiness: “Those visions made me realise that patriarchy had taken over religion, once the domain of matriarchs… and patriarchy had led to wars, greed and exploitation of the earth.”

By coincidence, around the same time that Olivia had her realisation, her brother, Lawrence “Derry” Durdin-Robertson, “21st baron of Strathloch”, an ordained clergyman in the Church of Ireland, had also become convinced that God was a woman. An honourable man, he at once proffered his resignation to his bishop, who assured him that “there was no need”.

In 1976 Olivia, Lawrence and Lawrence’s wife, Pamela, set up the Fellowship as a movement to worship “Isis of the 10,000 Names” . “At the end of an Aeon and the beginning of the space age, the Goddess Isis is manifesting as the feminine expression of divinity,” Olivia declared.

Huntington Castle was the ideal headquarters. Built as a garrison in 1625 on the site of a 14th-century abbey, Huntington became the seat of the Esmonde family, ancestors of the Robertsons. A rambling, castellated pile, complete with suits of armour and the heads of an array of wild beasts (including a crocodile shot by Olivia’s mother), it soon attracted a following of what Olivia called “ordinary Irish psychics”. Running out of room upstairs, she and Lawrence created an underground temple in the castle dungeons, with 12 shrines (one for each sign of the zodiac) and five chapels (each consecrated to a different goddess).

Huntington Castle, Co Carlow

There Olivia and her brother would perform elaborate rituals (with an extempore liturgy described by one witness as “the kind of thing you sit through at weddings when couples insist on writing their own vows”), he in blue robes, crook and tall blue hat, she in fetching pink, glittering golden or multicoloured gowns, her wild mane of dyed black hair topped with a brass coronet; she also brandished a sacred “sistrum” — a rattle made of small cymbals set in a wooden frame.

At first locals in the tiny village of Clonegal were horrified. “They thought we were all witches. It absolutely freaked them,” Olivia recalled. “But we left the outside door of the castle open at every ceremony so they could come round and participate. We never had any secrets.”

A painting by Olivia Robertson in the temple at Huntington Castle (DENNIS MURPHY LOGIC REALITY)

It no doubt helped that the strange happenings at the castle began to attract curious tourists to the village, as well as bands of New Age spiritualists who, several times a year, converged on the castle to pray, meditate and perform in pagan dramas and tableaux. Visitors included Van Morrison, Hugh Grant and Mick Jagger, while Brigitte Bardot’s sister made two stuffed canvas dragons for the temple.

The movement did not ask too much of its followers. “Some religions preach poverty, obedience and chastity,” Olivia explained. “We believe in love and beauty and have no truck whatsoever with asceticism.” By last year the group was said to have between 20,000 and 30,000 members in 90 countries, including (surprisingly) 46 Muslim nations. “The point about the Fellowship of Isis is that we don’t interfere with anybody’s religion, they have all got something to offer,” she explained. “The only thing we don’t like is people being boiled alive or burned or having their heads chopped off, that type of thing.”

Trailer for Olivia – Priestess Of Isis, a documentary made in 2010

One of four children, Olivia Melian Robertson was born in London on Friday April 13 1917. Her father, Manning Durdin-Robertson, was an architect and a member of a distinguished Anglo-Irish family with estates in Ireland; her mother, Nora, was the daughter of Lt-Gen Sir Lawrence Parsons, a cadet of the family of the Earls of Rosse who, disappointed that she was not a son, brought her up as a boy; she shot big game, invented a fishing fly known as the Black Maria, and wrote a book of memoirs, Crowned Harp.

Family ancestors were said to include Scota, legendary queen of the Scots, and Cesara (also known as “Mrs Benson”), a niece of Noah who, watching the Ark sail past from the top of Mount Leinster, called to Noah: “It’s a soft day.” Other notables to whom the Robertsons claimed to be related included Grace O’Malley, known in Irish folklore as Grainne Mhaoil, hereditary queen of Connaught; and the Wicked Lord Rosse, founder of the infamous Hellfire Club outside Dublin, where he and his fellow clubpersons were said to have roasted his butler.

Despite these connections, for the first eight years of her life Olivia Robertson led a somewhat humdrum existence in suburban Reigate. This all changed in 1925 when her paternal grandmother died and left Huntington Castle to her father. It was not long after the Civil War — a risky time for an Anglo-Irish family to return to Ireland. “The IRA had occupied the castle, and treated it very well,” she recalled, “although they locked the cook in the dungeon, and court-martialled the butler.”

It was a confusing time for Olivia and her three siblings: “Suddenly you didn’t wear a red poppy and you didn’t do Guy Fawkes. Everything was painted green. But we children didn’t mind a bit. We decided to be Irish!”

Surrounded by literature and paintings, antique-filled interiors, and plenty of parlour spirituality, the children were able to give full vent to their imaginations. Visitors to the house included Robert Graves, WB Yeats and the nationalist mystic George Russell (or, as he liked to be known, “Æ”). Olivia remembered Maud Gonne striding around the castle like “a statue of the goddess Demeter”, but was less impressed by Æ who “just sat there and spoke about skyscrapers”.

Olivia was educated at Heathfield School, Ascot, and the Grosvenor School of Modern Art. Following the outbreak of the Second World War, she served briefly as a VAD nurse in Bedfordshire before returning to Ireland, where she enrolled at University College Dublin to study Art History.

After the war she did social work with families in Dublin tenements, work which inspired her to write her first book, St Malachy’s Court. She went on to write five more books, one of which — a novel, Field Of The Stranger — won the London Book Society Choice award. She also had some success as a painter: she had her first exhibition in 1938, aged 21, and would later adorn the Temple of Isis with her own visionary work.

As an Archpriestess of the Fellowship of Isis, Olivia Robertson travelled to distant temples around the world. In 1993, when the Parliament of World Religions met in Chicago, she was chosen as the representative of “neopagans” and walked in procession at the opening ceremony alongside Chicago’s Roman Catholic Cardinal Joseph Bernardin.

Olivia Robertson never married. Her brother Lawrence made his “transition to spirit” in 1994. Announcing her death, the Fellowship of Isis website enjoined the Goddess Isis of 10,000 Names to “bless and keep her as she makes her journey into the next Spiral of the Cosmic Web”.

Olivia Robertson, born April 13 1917, died November 14 2013

Obituary for HP Olivia 1

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High priestess of Carlow-based ‘Fellowship of Isis’ cult dies, aged 96

Olivia Durdin Robertson lived with her extended family in Huntington Castle in Clonegal, on the Carlow-Wexford border

Olivia Durdin Robertson, who co-founded the Fellowship of Isis with her late brother Lawrence Alexander Durdin Robertson – a former Anglican clergyman – and his wife Pamela

Michael Parsons

Olivia Durdin Robertson, the self-styled “high priestess” of a Co Carlow-based cult devoted to an ancient Egyptian goddess, has died aged 96.

Ms Durdin Robertson came to international attention in the 1970s when she co-founded the “Fellowship of Isis” with her late brother Lawrence Alexander Durdin Robertson – a former Anglican clergyman – and his wife Pamela.

Huntington Castle She lived with her extended family in Huntington Castle in the village of Clonegal on the Carlow-Wexford border.

Her nephew David Durdin Robertson, a craftsman and sculptor who predeceased her in 2009, created an Egyptian temple for her in the dungeons of the castle.

In recent years this has been opened to the public for tours at Halloween.

Alexander Durdin Robertson said his great-aunt had died on Thursday in Wexford General Hospital following a short illness.

Her funeral on Wednesday will begin with “a private ceremony in the temple, organised by the Fellowship of Isis, by invitation only” followed by a public Church of Ireland service at St Fiacc’s in Clonegal.

He said the fellowship had “20,000 to 30,000” members worldwide.

A pre-planned auction of architectural salvage items in Huntington Castle scheduled for Monday will go ahead.

Irish Times

Olivia Robertson Has Died

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Olivia Robertson Has Died

 

olivia2

I’ve just heard that Olivia Durdin-Robertson, who founded the Fellowship of Isis and at 96 was one of the great lights of Goddess spirituality and Druidry, died peacefully in her sleep last night. She was so familiar with the Otherworld, seeming to be often half-immersed in it, that I’m sure her journey to the Summerlands will be a good and peaceful one. She was always so bright and joyful, with a wonderful sense of humour – many blessings to you on your way dear Olivia.

olivia

Much Sadness form Daughters of Qetesh Lyceum, but much love and celebration for the great inspirational woman she was. May she rest in the wings of Isis. xx

olivia Huntington_Castle_3

via Olivia Robertson Has Died.

Daughters of Qetesh Newsletter Dec 2012

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D of Q Iseum Dec-newsletter

Every year I write a piece on how my Iseum has worked and its yearly achievements. Please click onto link above to get a e-copy.

Birth of the Sacred Daughters

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Mention the Sacred Whore to most people and you’ll get raised eyebrows or disgusted grimaces. Many of us believe that prostitution is all about money for street hookers, fame for Hollywood starlets or security for suburban housewives. Prophetic texts, rituals, and icons are called sacred, even particular mountains or rivers are considered sacred, but whores?

Sexually empowered women are called bitches, dykes, ball-busters, etc., by both sexes. Sexually independent women, once respected as sacred vessels of the Goddess, are degraded as evil temptresses, obstacles between man and a sexless heaven. One exception is the paradise of Islam, although it is a men-only club stocked full with virgin nymphs; Islamic women are said to be soul-less.

Jungian psychologist Nancy Qualls-Corbett describes the Holy Whore as “a woman, who, through ritual or psychological development, has come to know the spiritual side of her sexuality, her true Eroticism, and lives this out according to her individual circumstances.” By this definition, a Sacred Prostitute uses sex as a means to worship her Goddess and to enlightenment. Fundamentalist Christians believe that the door to the kingdom of heaven is opened to those re-born of fire and water. Occult traditions such as Tantra, and magickal orders which esteem the Holy Whore, persuade us to experience our divinity by immersing ourselves in the fires of sexual passion and the baptismal waters of sexual ritual. Sexuality becomes sacred when the Goddess residing in every woman is honoured.

The term “sacred whore” is not oxymoronic. If we explore the etymology of the words “whore” or “harlot,” we find that the split between “priestess” and “prostitute” is a relatively recent one. In her book When God Was A Woman, Merlin Stone informs us that the Hebrew word Zonah means both prostitute and prophetess. Barbara Walker, in her Dictionary of Woman’s Myths and Secrets, points out that the Hebrew word ‘hor’ means a cave, pit, or dark hole. The Spanish word for whore, ‘puta’, derives from the Latin term for a well, but the Latin term for grave, literally “a hole in the earth,” is ‘puticuli’, meaning womb of rebirth. These terms for whore were not derogatory.

The Latin term had its root in the Vedic, an early Sanskrit language, wherein the word puta is defined as pure and holy. The cave, the pit, the hole, and the bottomless black lake were metaphors for the Great Goddess, She who is unnameable, that darkness primordial from which all life (light) is born. She is the Everything and The Nothing — Hole-y, Holy, Wholly. The Sacred Whore at work was, in fact, the manifestation the Great Goddess.

Today these ideas are not completely lost. The Hebrew folk dance named the ‘hora’, a tradition at Jewish weddings, is named after the circle dances of the sacred harlots. Such holy harlots were often “Brides of God” similar to modern nuns, the “Brides of Christ.” The holy harlots were set apart to give birth to Sons of God. In other words, these women had the job of changing human-animal into human-god.

The separation into priestess and prostitute, or sacred and profane polarities, occurred for western civilization when the early fathers of Christianity claimed power by abolishing goddess worship and other nature-based pagan religions. In actuality the bipartite woman, both whore and Madonna was a construct of the early Papal Councils around 600 AD. In the New Testament itself, there is nothing which proves that Magdalene was a repentant prostitute; other texts suggest that she was a spiritual teacher in her own right. (For more information about Mary Magdalene, check out Scandals, Intrigues and Christianity.)

Ishtar, the Great Whore of Babylon, was sometimes called the Goddess Har since she was the mother of the Harlots. These Harlots were not prostitutes as we know them, but priestesses, sorceresses, prophets, and healers. Sacred Whores were known sometimes as the Holy Virgins of Goddesses such as Ishtar, Asherah, or Aphrodite. The famous Vestal Virgins were thought to have practiced secret sex magical rites in honour of the Roman Goddess Vesta, the same as the Greek goddess Hestia — Goddess of the Hearth, or “centre of the world.”

“Virgin” did not mean possessing an intact hymen. A virgin was simply an unmarried woman, a woman who claimed ownership of herself. Think of Athena, the maiden goddess who jumped off a cliff rather than submit to wedlock. We see a similar story in the Hebraic tradition where Lilith, unwilling to subjugate herself to Adam in the male-dominant missionary position, exiled herself from paradise in exchange for her own sovereignty.

But Holy Whores weren’t man-haters. Their function was dispensing the grace of the God/Goddess through sexual worship by sharing their bodies with worthy initiates and with each other.

The European idea of going into a womb like space — cave, pit, hole, lake, or river — in order to attain a new life of spirit stems from the Neolithic period (approx. 15,000 BCE. – 5,000 BCE.). During this time the common belief system deemed the main God/Goddess female. Gods were primarily consorts for the Great Goddess or her sons, such as Horus and Jesus. Reunite the polarities, put the Virgin Mary back together with Mary Magdalene and you have a Holy Whore who is the mother of a man/god, or evolved man.

The Great Goddess was the All and her son represented the self-realized human, male or female. Women were thought to be able to access the power of the Goddess more easily because they could more easily identify with Her. In these early days, women were the mediators between the Goddess and the tribe. Later the masculine force became imbalanced by the male need to overcompensate and relegate women to a lower class. Such imbalance may have been caused in part by men’s fear of women’s magic — particularly the ability to give birth, the blood, and her intuitive gifts.

Before science explained away the mystery, women seemed magical, almost frightening. Women bled in sync with the phases of the moon. They bled in sync with each other and, to the awe of men, did not die. Women bore the babies and from their breasts flowed milk to sustain life. While the men went out to hunt, women explored, gathered food, and gained knowledge of medicinal herbs. They were the healers who produced magical cures for snake bites. Women were privy to divine wisdom. The Delphic oracles listened to pythons, while Eve took the sage advice of a serpent. Woman’s “innate” ability to tune into the Goddess was facilitated by her knowledge of herbs, including perhaps, psychoactive botanicals that produced visions.

When God was definitively female, women had the edge. It was thought necessary for a man to go through a woman in order to achieve contact with the Deity. Male devotees of the Great Goddess would offer gifts, undergo painful or humiliating preparatory rituals, wait years, fast, and give just about anything for the opportunity to be initiated by a Sacred Whore. In doing so, they attained the power of the Great Goddess, as well as the opportunity to contact what some modern mages or witches refer to as the True Will, Higher Self, or Holy Guardian Angel.

Priestesses devoted their lives and their bodies to the Goddess. Herodotus wrote that Babylonian brides were required by law to prostitute themselves at the temple for seven days prior to marriage in order to appease the Goddess, who disapproved of monogamy. Spending time as a holy whore blessed the maiden. The profession also became a refuge for women who wished to keep claim of themselves and their rights. In Hellenic Greece, courtesans maintained a social status legally and politically equal to men, while wives were reduced to servants.

The idea that a man needed a woman in order to attain apotheosis, or give birth to the potential God/Goddess hidden within himself, still lives between the lines of many patriarchal religious texts. Crowley had his Scarlet Woman; Simon the Mage had his Whore, and Jesus, Mary Magdalene. In fact, Magdalene means “she of the temple-tower.”

The patriarchal entity is a tyrant who feeds on control, or “power over.” The Holy Whore is a manifestation of “power with, power shared, and power for all.” Think of the Strength card in Tarot: A woman holds the lion’s mouth open. In this image, woman has identified and taken control of her sexual and creative power, symbolized by the lion.

Despite his unsavoury reputation, Aleister Crowley was one of the first male occultists to embrace the goddess. Crowley switched the traditional order of Strength and Justice tarot cards and changed the name of the Strength card to Lust. Crowley wanted to give Lust (11) the same numerical value as the High Priestess (2), which some Tarot scholars interpret as the holiest card in the deck. Many other decks, including the popular feminist deck Mother Peace, have also incorporated this numerical change. In this Crowley acknowledged the power of the feminine Beauty/Beast.

The word lust is derived from the words lustre or light, and originally meant “religious joy.” Strength, Light, Lust, and Holiness were originally all one. Crowley’s Lust card depicts a rather zaftig and sexual woman — the much-maligned Whore of Babylon — riding a multi-headed lion from the Bible’s Book of Revelations. In the commingling of beast (indicating our animal nature) and Babylon (indicating the sexual force of the great tripartite goddess), a great power is realized.

In “Beauty and the Beast,” the character Beauty can be seen as the Sacred Whore. She has gone to live with the Beast to save the life of her father. The Beast woos Beauty, painfully and pitifully. Ashamed of his ugliness and his animalistic traits, he pines away, stepping towards death. When Beauty sees beyond his mask, she sacrifices her ego and goes to him. When she gives herself to him with a kiss, he is reborn as a gorgeous prince, symbolizing the bliss of the union of Spirit and Nature. This tale is saying that it is within our power to change the state of civilization by the power of our sex. This sentiment is echoed in Deena Metzger’s poem, “The Women Who Slept with Men to Take the War Out of Them.” The Goddess’ way is power with, not the patriarchal power over.

When fully self-realized, woman is the initiatrix into higher rites of passage. She is Mut, Great Mother of Death, and also Isis, whose love makes possible the higher birth of Horus from the inert Osiris. Astrologically speaking, this concept is reflected in the sign of Scorpio, which rules sex, death, and transformation or initiation. Sexual love can be a path to spiritual evolution. Some occultists believe that sex combined with ritual creates the most powerful magic.

Love/Sex is also linked with death. Renaissance poets called orgasm “the little death.” The Goddess is more than Mother and Whore; she is also the Crone, the Destroyer, and the Eater of Men. This threefold goddess is akin to Hindu Goddess Kali. Powerful Kali gives birth with one hand while squatting over her dead consort Shiva and devouring his entrails with the other. If we conquer our fear of the threefold Goddess’ powers and embrace the natural sacredness of sex and death, we can truly begin to understand the cycle of life.

Many believe that the world’s chance of survival is dependent on the reclamation of the female aspect of deity and its integration in the minds of the people “en masse.” We will evolve in the images of the God/Goddess that we created. The Sacred Prostitute represents energy, light, and expansive creative force. The repression of this positive force puts society in crisis. As poet/prophet William Blake writes, “Repressed energy breeds pestilence.” Our world becomes a place where violence has replaced creative sexual expression. Consider that violence is accepted as common TV fare, while the sight of a women breastfeeding her infant causes vehement outcries from the rightwing Christian minority.

Our society’s god-of-choice is miserable, grouchy, and usually on the verge of suicide. Just watch the TV evangelists praying for Armageddon. Their god only evinces the “restrictive” saturnine intellect and represents degeneration, a far fall from the original Father-Mother-Sister-Brother God/Goddess of Jewish paganism named YHVH. The punishing grey-beard whom Blake deemed “Nobodaddy,” has been severed from feminine wisdom. His children are stillborn, waiting in the ethers for the nourishing milk of their mother.

Violence against women increases as men who feel powerless resort to rape. Millions of women deny themselves orgasmic pleasure because they are taught “good girls don’t” by a society that worships a bachelor god. The new Yahweh is irritable and quick to call fun a sin. Many men are stuck playing tough guy roles, and many women learn that submission and passivity are their tickets to survival. Two hundred years ago, the poet Percy Shelley, a maverick feminist and political activist, asked, “Can man be free if woman be a slave?”

Anyone who has indulged in BDSM will tell you that both dominant and submissive roles contain joys, but to play only one and never the other brings monotony, sadness, or dangerous obsession. Without the embodiment of the Sacred Whore in every woman, society twists itself dysfunctional.

Of course, women can’t flock to temples and set up camp as Holy Whores in this day and age without being arrested. But a change in the way women see themselves, and in the way men see women, would be a start. Every woman can invoke the Holy Whore into her life with pleasure. The Sacred Prostitute is a woman who has reclaimed her Self and reconnected with her will. Most importantly, she is a woman who has reclaimed the sacredness of her body.

First and foremost: Pay attention to what advertisers and the media, promoters of degenerate cultural realities, are telling us. Both women and men must learn to ignore the messages that women are “sick” with post-menstrual syndrome (PMS/PMT or menstrual cramps two weeks out of every month, that our vaginas smell bad, that we must wax pubis, douche, or use deodorized tampons if we are to be “clean.” It’s hard to invoke the Goddess within if we believe our bodies are so flawed.

We need to honour the menstrual cycle. We need to change the language associated with it, call it moon time or bleeding time, instead of the vulgar “on the rag.” Don’t blame your partner’s moodiness on PMS; have sex instead — wonderful messy sex. Fertilize your plants with menstrual blood, an ancient magical fertilizer. Question the programming that automatically labels sexual women “sluts.”


Yahweh’s obviously not happy alone on the mountain. Our reclaiming of the sacred prostitute’s spirit, humour, and sheer joy in the flesh could help this pitiful modern God remember his Goddess’s bountiful breasts and make some holy fun & games. When the Goddess residing in every woman is honoured, the paradox of sacred sexuality can again manifest in our world. The Goddess is as her people act: As above, so below.


The woman has been playing the role of “temptress” sapping the life force of man for too long… The sensual qualities of women have been labelled “evil” and many women out of shame have pushed their “unnatural” sexual urges into the unconscious. Western societies especially have weakened women with literature such as Ulysses and the Sirens, Samson and Delilah, John the Baptist and Salome, and the rationalization of the burning of witches during the Inquisition in Europe and later in Salem, Massachusetts. So they say because the “witches” had the power (gained with intercourse with Satan) to incite desire and weaken men. The real reason for witch burning was the desire of men to gain control of women’s property and fear of women’s knowledge and healing powers. I have heard those sexist stories so many times I was ready to rage on demand each time I heard them. Fortunately, the Sacred Whores became a great emotive release for me because I have found in them an important vehicle to reconnect with my sensuality. The sacred Prostitutes are Great Goddesses who have remained too long in my shadow that caused damaged to my psyche and those of others. The Sacred Prostitutes enable me to assume the quality of a powerful goddess myself, independent and free. Their primeval eroticism connects me to my instinctual drives and primeval nature.

I am a woman created equal to man. I am wise and sensual therefore no man should overpower me. The Great Spirit, The All is the ideal of balance of the female and the male energies, wilderness and logic, Ying and Yang, black and white etc. Neither is more important than the other and only together they can make a whole! Women in this day and age have to reclaim their male energy, the “Kundalini” that curled serpent that rests at the seat of the spine in the lowest chakra. When Kundalini is awakened through spiritual, mental and physical practice of the blissful communion with The All it is possible to tap into it and use it. Our ancestress the indigenous mothers of this planet exuded this energy natural to females. Sculptures and paintings that can be traced back to the golden days in the Motherland abound in sensual and voluptuous women. The Kundalini energy has not been acknowledged by the conqueror that took over and corrupted the indigenous way of life and incorporated a chauvinist, caste and ego system that never existed. This is why the world is all screwed up. In order for us to be raised out of our mummified state we need to call on our Holy Whores ancestress for guidance. Men as well can use the Holy Prostitutes Goddesses, who symbolizes ecstasy and freedom to experience, much more openness in their sexual expression with their women as well as much more humbleness and gratefulness for their fertility. As the balance of the Universe is restored, so health, peace and love on every level.

Bantu Kelani.

Rings of Qetesh

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RINGS OF QETESH 

In Egyptian mythology Qetesh (also: Qadesh, Kadesh, Qaudeshet, ) was a Goddess of sex (rather than fertility), who is thought to originally be a Semitic god, from Chaldean mythology. She was adopted into the Egyptian pantheon as early as the new Kingdom. Once adopted by the Egyptians she was named Knt (pronounced Kenet). Her lover was Resheph, a married god from Chaldean myth, and she also took Min as a lover (though some believe he was her son). He was the God of fertility and Sexual prowess, so seemed an obvious choice as a lover.

She was always depicted as a naked woman riding on the back of a lion, with the crescent moon (representing the night) as a headdress. She was also shown holding snakes (representing the penis) in her right hand and Lotus flowers (representing the vulva), in her left. Among her many natures she was worshiped as a Nature Goddess, a Goddess of Sexual Ecstasy and sacred Pleasure. She was also the deity of Law, happiness, dance, and music and most importantly the Protector of Women. This last nature made her a popular with women who were being treated badly.

THE RINGS OF QETESH

 

 

Snake Poison Ring

The strong appeal of Qetesh lead to there being a secret society formed in her honor. In order to keep the Society of The Rings secret the Macedonian bodyguards of the Egyptian Praetorian Guard, loyal to the Society, would provide the Hand Maidens with reed pens, ink and parchment. The Hand Maidens of the Priestesses’ of Qetesh would make the request, seal the parchment and return it a member of the Society. He in turn would place the parchment in a false part of the ring, and make his way.

Copy of Cleopatras Ring

Members of the Ring of Qetesh facilitated unique and exquisite gifts of lore to express their love and adoration to the most attractive Priestesses. The Society developed into a ‘quiet’ form of diplomacy between the court Princes, nobles and Kingdoms. They are noted as saying “We walk in the dark places no one else will enter”.

In the Reign of Cleopatra VII the Secret Society was a ‘powerbase’ protecting the regent of Egypt against plots to take her throne. Cleopatra knew that there were whispers and intrigue and attempted plots against her and her court. The women of the rings of Qetesh were ordered to sleep with the dissenters and find out their secrets. Cleopatra was reported to say “What better way to block an attempted conspiracy than from the whispers associated with scented pillows”

Thea Bara as Cleopatra

After the death of Cleopatra and the fall of the Egyptian Empire, the Keepers of The Rings of Qetesh sponsored a group of the strongest and bravest noblemen and named them ‘Men of Romance’. The group then left Egypt and spread out to the new Empires of Greece and Rome. The Men of Romance dedicated their lives to protecting Kings and Queens, Poets and Painters throughout history. Two of the famous men they protected were Alexandra the Great and the Painter Michelangelo. Most interestingly it had also been rumored that Robin Hood and His Merry Men were members of The Men of Romance, protecting King Richard’s land of England.

Qetesh Calls for Her Love

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“Oh, for a candle I could light, to draw you closer

Oh, for a poppet made like you

With your own lovely body, sewn again with cloth

With your dark all-seeing eyes

With your c**k standing proud, and balls sweetly rounded,

Remade in wax or clay.

Oh, for a herb to place upon my tongue

To bring your tongue to mine…..

Oh, for a potion I could drink

Or slip to you, unseen,

At some state dinner party laid on for you.

Oh, for your nail parings….

Oh, for your hair….

Stirred in a brew, or

Baked in a honey cake….

I would make a stew, a soup, or witches broth

To bring your lovely thighs to mine.

I would search the world for rare meats, and sweet treats

To lure you here to me..

I would enter your blood and warm your veins

I would enter your eyes like laser beams

Then enter your palms like the Holy Spirit causing stigmata

To a sex-starved saint.

Oh, my love

I would spell you ‘evoL’ if mere anagrams

Would bring you near to me.

Hear me!

Come to me!

Love me!

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