the entertainer behind the screen

Pay no attention to the figure behind the screen. H. P. Lovecraft’s visit to that New York hot spot, Club R’lyeh, left him ill at ease. It was the jazz music & musicians,  that unsettled him.

 

Harlem Flat Blues (1929) Duke Elington’s Jungle Band

 

Oriental Illusions (Oriental Nightmare) Slim Lamar & His Southerners

Advertisements

the mural maps from Lost Lemuria 2

alas Lost Lemuria, that continent at the edge of memory’s ocean – fancies of youth sailing towards adventures unimagined, monsters to be vanquished & knowledge to be earned, tears to be gathered, shadows to be dispersed, yet greenmantle-cloud daisies dance & chant-sing of things lost along the way to certainty – old men pine for what was dropped along the path to independence & weary wisdom’s wandering gaze – see how the maps on these walls are now covered in indecipherable glyphs, the pieces of ideated engraved equations calculating the space between dream & memory, full of implied meaning, echoed in melodious voices rising up from that continent sitting in the depths of those long ago breezes that once brushed a boyish brow – alas Lost Lemuria……

 

Pan-Pacifica –

ever Mu-Zealandia,

dragon ships flying

towards ancient white mountains,

does the sun’s eye shine there still ?

 

Carcosa from above

You inhale those vapid vapours from a flower

plucked from the Gardens of Ulthar

remaining heavy in body, the fragile self rises.

Drifting past broken deductions – cloud weary wanderer,

you settle – Carcosa awaits below.

There, The Maiden’s gaze will hold you –

as she sings Cassilda’s Song.

shoggoths slide past mist –

embrace the weeping wizened –

tattered yellow lips.