H. P. Lovecraft is a master of both purple prose & terrifying visions. I remember reading him in my late teens & being drawn in totally to the out-of-kilter world he created (or was he merely describing an alternate reality that wasn’t fiction at all?) On my Kindle I now have his complete fiction: short stories, novels & even some poetry.
He took me to a disturbed Maine seaside long before Stephen King moved in 🙂 I was impressed by his writing style, though now I find it a bit florid, and was even more impressed by his decision to dispense with the happy ending. There is no escape from the tentacles in his Cthulhu Mythos.
His invented language, strange rituals & decaying churches enthralled me. One of my favourite short stories has the escapee struggle from captivity to find themselves in front of a mirror & being terrified by the monstrous creature they see. My other favourite is the room with weird angled corners that drives people mad. The Dunwich Horror is perfection (& the movie isn’t too bad either).
Re-reading many of these stories as an adult, on my Kindle, I am both transported & a little bored. How many decaying churches, or deep underground caverns full of malignant artifacts do I need to read about anyway. He has spawned an industry, though, of novels, short stories that are still being written to explore & expand his worlds.
I was inspired by his use of language, his story telling and the ability to create & sustain a complex & compelling mythos so rich that some believe it is not fiction. I approach my Village Stories with some of this in mind – though I didn’t go for supernaturally scary but for a more emotionally culturally-scary mood.
Delete Delete Delete
I went for a walk
took my camera
to see the world as an observer
not a passer-by
I took shots of
stray shoes stray cats
a frozen smile
dirty gutters budding trees
windows that needed washing
people that needed washing
teens smoking
locked doors
cars too close to the curb
a small dribble of blood
bicycles that rotted all winter
posters pasted on closed shop windows
spray tags on mail boxes
an empty threat
cut flowers at a corner store
empty park benches
the distance between the aches
clumps of soggy newspaper
the mouth of a cave
hands holding empty air
three cellphones
a dog killing a rat
a birthday cake
a broken object that beeped faintly
green teeth
a missed opportunity
a wrong turn
a gathering of indifferent hoodies
an orange chain link fence
the last of the great ones
discarded bloody bandages
a farewell to arms
a Tim’s cup trapped in subway escalator
a dead fly in a camera shop window
a reason to go on
undergarments in a storm drain
an absent ache
November 15: Hot Damn! It’s a Queer Slam – 8p.m. – Buddies In Bad Time Theatre, Toronto
http://www.queerslam.com
every Tuesday
October 5/6/7 – Gratitude Round-Up
https://www.facebook.com/TorontoGratitudeRoundup/
October scary poetry every Wednesday & Thursday
June – Capturing Fire 2019 – Washington D.C. capfireslam.org
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet
Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr
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