Death lesson - 23
"It is good to be a cynic — it is better to be a contented cat — and it is best not to exist at all."
- H.P. Lovecraft
My frustration is the seemingly wild self-assurance of my doubt. That and a desire to remove me from this story. While feeling a need to remind me it is a fictional autobiography. So what now more angst? More indulgence? Or, do we go straight for the jugular of bad poetry? No, we sit and talk about sarcastic halleluja. The book of the dying and the dead.
I have been reading it lately trying to find some way out of my predicament (being locked out of heaven for writing this book.) and am fascinated by a poem I have found on the last page of sarcastic hallelujah. Though you will not find it in the standard edition... this one is exclusively in my own copy. But as I am generous if disingenuous. I will share it here.
Floating tambourines.
From the spooks of the sacred soul
or the ghouls before the holy ghost.
As every bridge hides another troll
, the graveyard gargoyle offers a toast.
"The blasphemer's bible is not dead.
Though the pages are black: new or old
and the words written, so as to glow red.
to see in the dark with hands that are cold."
in the age of decay like some savant
I watch the floating tambourines.
While the old gods grow quite gaunt
the stew of souls left simmering.
- H.P. Lovecraft
My frustration is the seemingly wild self-assurance of my doubt. That and a desire to remove me from this story. While feeling a need to remind me it is a fictional autobiography. So what now more angst? More indulgence? Or, do we go straight for the jugular of bad poetry? No, we sit and talk about sarcastic halleluja. The book of the dying and the dead.
I have been reading it lately trying to find some way out of my predicament (being locked out of heaven for writing this book.) and am fascinated by a poem I have found on the last page of sarcastic hallelujah. Though you will not find it in the standard edition... this one is exclusively in my own copy. But as I am generous if disingenuous. I will share it here.
Floating tambourines.
From the spooks of the sacred soul
or the ghouls before the holy ghost.
As every bridge hides another troll
, the graveyard gargoyle offers a toast.
"The blasphemer's bible is not dead.
Though the pages are black: new or old
and the words written, so as to glow red.
to see in the dark with hands that are cold."
in the age of decay like some savant
I watch the floating tambourines.
While the old gods grow quite gaunt
the stew of souls left simmering.
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