The Moya View

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





One response to “Dr. Faustus Thanks the Devil and the Word”

  1. carolineshank Avatar

    This is good. I get it. But there are a few too many allusions. It’s hard to do Rushdie and Dante in the same poem, me thinks. It’s still an A.

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Beyond the Dying Cloud
The Art of Dying