The Warlock of Love

by Marc Bolan

A reprint edition of the original for the Tyrannosaurus Rex Appreciation Society.

Genres: Poetry, Music

Hardcover

First published January 1, 1969

Reviews

[Paul Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, I don't have this book and would only laugh at it discourteously if I did, because it goes for insane second-hand prices, but I feel I've already read The Warlock of Love many times because it was published when Marc Bolan was an elf (1969) and before he shapeshifted into a glam-rocker (1970), so this is all contemporaneous with the gloriously titled first Tyrannosaurus Rex album (wait for it, deep breath) "My People were Fair and had Sky in their Hair but Now They're Content to Wear Stars on Their Brows". So yes, this is hippy poetry written by a former mod who ate a lot of mushrooms and even more Tolkien and had a wonderful, completely loony way with words. I love all the early Tyrannosaurus Rex stuff, so original, just Marc with his minimal but perfect acoustic guitar and extreme baby-goat-like voice, and Steve Peregrine Took (naturally) on bongos, pixiephone (of course) and assorted harmonic wailing - it's beautiful, great tunes and the whole thing drunk on language, who cares what it means or doesn't mean, free your words and your mind will follow, or something like that.

Sample of some early lyrics which may or may not be in this book:

"A mad Mage with a maid on his eyebrows
Hunteth the realm for a God
Who could teach him the craft of decanting
The glassy entrails of a frog.

The Bard of my birth with his ballet
Walked the wild worlds in the chase
For the black chested canary
Who as a moose can sing bass. "

from "Chariots of Silk"

"Small girl with a smiling gibbon
Bridled with an orchid ribbon
His curved brow in Scarlatti fashion
Boots that ride the night sky eagle"

from Salamander Palaganda"

"Roasting his feet by the furnace of peat,
He roars at the boars who massively sleep at his feet."

from "Stacey Grovw"

The night-mare's mauve mashed mind
Sights the visions of the blinds
Shoreside stream of steam
Cooking kings in cream of scream.
Jackdaw winter head
Cleans his chalcedony bed
A silken word of kind
Was returned from Nijinsky Hind.

from "She was born to be my Unicorn"

It's enough to make a gibbon smile.

[Bethany · Rating 5 out of 5]

...Why? Why isn't this widely available in physical form?

I want to bathe in these words; I want to carry these poems with me and become veryvery familiar with them.

But sadly, to buy this book would cost a limb or two. The online text version (found here: http://www1.shore.net/~natalie/w1.htm) with its less-than-ideal surroundings and poor punctuation has to suffice for now.

But I am grateful I have this, at least.

What I really need, though, is my own publishing company and a nice millionaire to fund it. Any takers?

[Gloria Jackson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dangit. Why are there only five stars?! I need to rate this book higher. Seriously, if you can get a copy of this, read it. And I know poetry is not for everyone, but this book is incredible. And the imagery in the poems is fantastic.

[laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

‘And now where once stood solid water
stood the reptile king,
Tyrannosaurus Rex, reborn and bopping.’
<3

[Ross Jeffery · Rating 1 out of 5]

I struggle with poetry…but still I try…

This just felt like I was reading words strung together with no rhyme or reason…

A bit like this: dog of dirty leaves pulled tractor sky aflame sea heart cradle life unbeknownst in chasms cry

And that’s pretty good in comparison!

[hannahh · Rating 5 out of 5]

I saved up and bought a second hand re-released version of this when I was 14 years old. Now, it sits on my book shelf, speckled with tiny papery age spots, as one of my favourite poetry books in existence.

Marc was a poet before he was anything else. This is how he often introduced his profession. Poetry was his love language, his self-expression and his means of communication. The Warlock of Love is a collection of fantastic poetry that sits on it's own or as an additional piece of lyrical art alongside all the whimsical stories that were written in the Tyrannosaurs Rex era-as well as being a perfect homage to Marc's inspiration, like J.R.R. Tolkien.

Knowing Marc would have physically put paper to pen, sometime in the 1960s, probably sat down in a field, struggling with his dyslexia-makes this gem of a book even more wonderful and intimate to read. For any T.Rex fans that would like just that little bit more of Marc in their heart-I recommend taking the time to hear what his soul had to say.

[Gordon MacLellan · Rating 5 out of 5]

absolutely mad but beautifully so! From the man who wrote "Graceful fat Sheba, she works with a meat cleaver, sweating behind the meat counter..." comes a book of poems that play with words, twisting them, turning them, growing them into unexpected shapes and patterns and creating a deliciously crazy poetry that no-one else has ever matched!

[NK · Rating 4 out of 5]

You need to read this in a quiet place with no distractions.

[Elena]

pg 4. "Legends we long for and legends there are in the east of our head"

I have never been so lucky as to have found this book for less than £50 on eBay... Ever since February I have been falling for Marc Bolan's lyrics and music, his words are like a mirror of my soul... This collection of poems was positively Tolkien-esque (Bolan really liked his books), and most poems gave me a sense of the impenetrable. The poems are full of fantastical and otherworldly images, almost to the point of nonsensical, making some of them close to impossible to understand. Bolan uses alliteration to such a point that it makes you think he just used words (no matter how out of the blue) just for the sake of their sound and not their meaning. Him being such a music-oriented artist, it makes sense, but I don't know how well it translates into poetry. Still, I enjoyed a lot of the poems mostly due to their images and original messages, his words inspired me a quiet a bit to write a few poems my self... and what else can I say... now where once stood solid water stood the reptile king, Tyrannosaurus Rex, reborn and bopping.


pg 9. "Call me a harlot
call me wormyworder
everso, but out loud."

pg 10. "My love is a season unto herself"

pg 14. "And
the years danced on. And all that moves returns to
stone, eventually. "

pg 18. "With the girdle of life
unadorned on my brow
my eye’s appetite is relieved
with starry sights and mellow wonders.
Yet with a girdle mammoth in starfields
and moontrees
my heart’s eye is dull and my soul
ever hungry. "

pg 20. "And the steed
steered the stars and bade the quaking birds to follow.
And on mounting the wind they too grew like young
oaks"


pg 28. "Oh, wind ones with your shallow cares for the
darkened heart, in your rolling robes of chivallry,
which way will your guillotine gaze fall."

pg 35. "Stars
he measured and cats he slept with, curled in the
arms of night, pillowed on the breast of the
meadow like a babe. But such wisdom and liquid
knowledge tricked down the small falls of his head
as have not been witnessed almost since the beginnings
of stars. "

"For seated he is a temple, to crawl to, in your mornings
of despair. But standing, alas, no eyes yet born
could accommodate such beauty of features made by the
ancient masters of the maze."

pg 39. "The hawk of death
the widow fears most
along the islets of the river’s coast
In her house, weak in magic,
the blue wells ’neath her eyes,
muddy and rich, vomit rabbits,
milk white and bare
with artists ears but scoundrels hearts
tattooed and thumping in the pale limpit light
of the pit of angels.
A torso of tin,
dull and knotted, lay sweating
by the bed of the wilted widow.
But her pastures were barren and untilled,
and the illness of Ashemoc dredged her heart
and left her an eyesore
in a century of nymphetic connoisseurs. "

pg 40. "And Demeter loves me most because I of all men can alter bread to toast."


pg 48. "The verse of her life
limped forlorn in the moon of her day
like an eternity.
She once ruled the hearts of men.
On all fours they’d grovel"

pg 50. "Merely one petal, frail and fragrant,
pillowing our sleepy bodies,
silent in the noise of the night."

pg 51. "And on opening his shuttered chateau of sight,
alone he was
and thought he had always been so.
And his weeping was long and destroying. "

pg 54. "We stood there in the youth of our love,
Me asparagous green, you with fortunate gloves.
My rapier staff was of yeilding summer oak
And your toes were tongued with dynastys of foxgloves
And we strode tall and long with the scowling winter
Everso gone.
And our hair was as one head, spiraled and twirly
grotto-grieven red."

pg 62. "Oh sturdy lord in your gaudy land
I beseech a pebble from your hand
For to stow deep within my new gilded cage
To fear off the mute deaf muse of age"

[Meghan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is not the style of poetry that I would normally gravitate towards but as a fan of both the music of T.Rex (and the former Tyrannosaurus Rex) as well as the works of Tolkien, I found this collection to be very charming. Bolan is a master of creating strong imagery and alliterative lines which make the poems a very captivating read; not to mention, it is fascinating to see the poetry the that Bolan wrote while he was still in his psychedelic folk era of music before becoming the glam rock icon that most know him for. While I enjoyed this collection, I think that part of that enjoyment was out of the novelty of having been lucky enough to find and read a copy of the works of one of my favorite musicians; therefore, I am unsure if I would recommend this book to those that are not acquainted with the Tolkein-esque music of Tyrannosaurus Rex. Despite that, if you are lucky enough to come across a copy of this book, I would say that it is certainly worth flipping through.

[Richard Hurst · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this first time round when I was I was about 13/14 - Loved the band, like the poetry, reminds me of Kenneth Patchen...