William Cook

The Devil and his Muses by Frank Walls The following poem was published in artist Frank Walls’s art book, The Order of the Black Triangle (link at the bottom of the page). It accompanies this amazing painting (above) by Frank Walls. DCLXVI Call me what you will, for I am he who they call Baphomet, Beelzebub, Satan, Lucifer, et al. They say I am evil incarnate — the profane one who fell But I am merely the sum of my muses Whose sins feed my freedom from above So below, my flock gathers to kiss my cloak And blaspheme and swear to me their pathetic, deathless love See Lilith twisting in the gloomy mire, her ashen flesh alluring She was my first tainted muse, fraught with every indiscretion She has since lured many with her sacred carrion call And a multitude of golden sins from now unto the ancient days When I, as Baal, roamed bloody Carthage streets with Tanit at my side Then on to Gehenna and Phoenicia, fat on the souls of slain brats Rivers of virginal blood scarred the earth Tributar...

      The Road Less Travelled We traveled to Mapua through Nelson from the Sounds in the hot afternoon sun between colonnades of scruffy apple trees, their burden of fruit ready to shed sparkling balls of blood dancing in the breeze  & the road rides on to Mapua wharf & over there is Rabbit island, framing the river mouth with a slab of dark pine & on the other side — the motor-camp, nestled between huge trees, not meant for harvest just shelter & ‘clothing optional’ the café now spawns delicacies a small restaurant behind smokes fish & oysters & makes the best burgers around, yet here it was that another world existed & brave men ferried cargo across the teeming strait on timber boats the size of small trucks — even using sails & oars & people were withdrawn or deposited on these planks long-gone replaced, to make way for the new, repair the past from Mapua to Nelson . . . still in the sun the bay sparkles & a ...

david bowie said:       “god is an american” nietzsche said       “god is dead” madame blavatsky said       “there is no religion,         higher than truth” i say:       “truth & religion         are non-compatible” by the way, this is not a political poem or a religious poem my views (contd.):         a poem is an expression of interest       potentially, entertaining       possibly, thought provoking       usually, annoying       seldom enjoyable       always didactic       drivel – essentially but this poem is not meant to tell you what a poem is or isn’t or what you should think   this is just  some words on a page po...