Dr. Faustus Thanks the Devil and the Word

The poem rumbles in my brain

and wakes me at three in the morning
as if my devil branded me with his pitchfork

reminding me of our inspired bargain

 

My nemesis love calls me to the fiery sheet

his impish pride burning praise in me

that swears fealty with bloody words

 

Oh poetry

how your satanic verses

chum and shudder in me

sharking nightmares to dreams

and my words to the exquisite limbo

doomed to fall short of true divinity

 

The poem squatters in my mind firmly

fixed in the ninth circle of treachery

offending my soul

crushing my heart

 

It takes and takes and takes

and never gives not even

granting the guilt of dirty lucre

 

Words are my blood

Poems damn my veins

My quick-fire brimstone lines

are my epitaph

 

I am both cursed and blessed

to this addiction

yet I hope this passion never cools

only  flames and reflames

 

Oh Poetry immolate me

burn me to the purest ash

leaving a diamond legacy

 

The poem is not a song

but the fire inside the song

the sulphur mistaken for honey

 

Oh dulcet sounds why and thank you for

making me an exile from life and tomorrow

a lonely sad witness to the world

 

Why and thank you for

fating me to this fiery covenant