July 06, 2007
Poetry Friday, A Little Lovecraft
Once again I am home sick on a Friday. Between my fish problems and illness totally screwing up my plans, this really hasn't been my week. At least I can put up my Friday poem, I guess.
I thought I might put up something by Lovecraft this week, since I've been reading a lot of his work lately. I was surprised to find that Lovecraft was a fairly prolific poet. A lot of his work shadows the style of Poe and his contemporary poets. I actually think a good chunk of it is too wordy for my taste (I couldn't get through "The Fungi of Yugoth" with my head pounding like it currently is), but there are a few slightly shorter poems that I like.
A lot of Lovecraft's published works are now available in the public domain. I've personally been reading them off of wikisource, since they overtly require research and proof that works are in the public domain before they will put them online. There is some argument about whether the copyright on all of his works has expired, because of the terms of his will and a lack of proper copyright extensions being filed after his death. I don't really understand all of the issues involved, but there is a discussion about it on his wikisource page.
I chose this poem because I liked the imagery (and it is relatively brief). The wikisource page where I got the text of the poem is here. In most of Lovecraft's works cats are the only wholesome creatures and they will often try to defend their owners from evil and madness. This poem is the only exception I've been able to find so far.The Cats
by H.P. Lovecraft
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun.Colour and splendour, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain.Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal.
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune.Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling,
Belfries that buckle against the moon totter,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets;
Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats.
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
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