Monday, May 31, 2010

Ways Of Men & Beasts

All things wicked aren't only found in books. Take for instance this poem, from an oral tradition, that was told for centuries by my ancestors. It was supposedly taken from a black obelisk high in the mountains of the Lapland near Mount Kebnekaise. It has been translated from an old Sámi language, into Swedish and, finally, the Queen's English.

ways of men & beasts

in the reek
of caves
& the bosom
of the black earth



the foul seed
of carnal things
& bleed

in the ways
of men
& beasts.


From the green book:


As it was
so shall it be

when mother
has rid
of all
her fleas

will she
be lush
full of life

may she run
by day
and by night

from plague
and sin

from the blight
of her children-
and kin

only then
may she
live again.


It seems fitting that this one was found amongst the pages of the red book. Interestingly, it was handwritten on a scrap of paper and not actually part of the text itself. The paper was old and brittle and the handwriting smudged but I was able to transcribe the verses thusly:


the body
without life
pinned to the earth

a sword
through the soul
standing in the dirt

the dead
travel fast
but not very far

with the spirit
willing, interred
in the flesh

and the flesh
chilling, in turn
in the earth

the rod is steeled
in the ground

so quiet
the apparition


Sunday, April 25, 2010

The Tragedy Of Man

"The tragedy of man,
is that he exists."

This Is My Song

Something new, perhaps....

This Is My Song

Every day
I wake up
in Hell

In Hell
is where
I stay

Every moment
the comfort
of Death

Is thousands
of miles

With eyes
shut tight
and fingers

I wonder
to whom
do I pray

To whom
to what
it matters

These areas
are always

So the Sun
gives up
the Night
comes down

And swallows
the remnants
of Day

I lay
on my bed
to go back
to the place

With Nightmares
and Demons
at play.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Found Arcana IV

Moving on to the little black book. This particular text looks practically unscathed. There is slight shelf wear around the corners and the pages are yellowed with age, but most of the book is in fantastic shape, a real find. I may be wholly speculating, but this particular tome contains more verse, however it differs from the other texts in that these lines are less like poetry, almost ritualistic or mantric in tone. I have provided two examples from this faux grimoire.

The Nekromanser's Hymn

Onse 'round thee toombe stone walk'd
ne'er a palsy'd tongue doth spoke

Twise 'round thee toombe stone walk'd
ne'er a skeletal digit pok'd

Thrise 'round thee toombe stone walk'd
ne'er a spektral ancestore woke

Backward 'round thee toombe stone walk'd
bee damned, a devile hath yee invok'd!

Although the spellings above are either archaic or of poor diction, I decided to leave them in tact. The other verse is in latin; I was, however, able to find a tranlation by a man named Ludwig Prinn, a kind of scholar who studied occult texts while interred in a prison in Syria ca. 1291. Here are both the original text and its translation:

Mortalitas incertus

In tumbus in obscurum
ego fui haud oculus

Silentium per letalis
ego fui haud lingua

Penitus ut terra
ego fui haud auris

Resurrectio per votum
ego fui haud vereor...

tantum ieiunium.


Of Death Uncertain

Entombed in darkness
I have no eye

Silenced by mortality
I have no tongue

Interred to earth
I have no ear

Vivified with desire
I have no fear...

only hunger.

A Story Of Things That Tell Things

No explanations here. To paraphrase Popeye, "It is what it is!"