Howard Phillips Lovecraft
Howard Phillips Lovecraft (August 20, 1890 – March 15, 1937) was an American author of horror, fantasy, and science fiction, especially the subgenre known as weird fiction.
Lovecraft's guiding literary principle was what he termed "cosmicism" or "cosmic horror", the idea that life is incomprehensible to human minds and that the universe is fundamentally alien. Those ... more »
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Howard Phillips Lovecraft Poems
O'er the midnight moorlands crying, Thro' the cypress forests sighing, In the night-wind madly flying, Hellish forms with streaming hair;
Fungi from Yuggoth
I. The Book The place was dark and dusty and half-lost In tangles of old alleys near the quays,
There's an ancient, ancient garden that I see sometimes in dreams, Where the very Maytime sunlight plays and glows with spectral gleams;
Little Tiger, burning bright With a subtle Blakeish light, Tell what visions have their home In those eyes of flame and chrome!
In the Midnight heaven's burning Through the ethereal deeps afar Once I watch'd with restless yearning An alluring aureate star;
Pacifist War Song - 1917
We are the valiant Knights of Peace Who prattle for the Right: Our banner is of snowy fleece, Inscrib'd: 'TOO PROUD TO FIGHT!''
Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, Past the wan-mooned abysses of night, I have lived o'er my lives without number,
The cloudless day is richer at its close; A golden glory settles on the lea; Soft, stealing shadows hint of cool repose
Where Once Poe Walked
Eternal brood the shadows on this ground, Dreaming of centuries that have gone before; Great elms rise solemnly by slab and mound,
The cottage hearth beams warm and bright, The candles gaily glow; The stars emit a kinder light Above the drifted snow.
On the Creation of Niggers
When, long ago, the gods created Earth In Jove's fair image Man was shaped at birth. The beasts for lesser parts were next designed;
The Bride of the Sea
Black loom the crags of the uplands behind me, Dark are the sands of the far-stretching shore. Dim are the pathways and rocks that remind me
Fact and Fancy
How dull the wretch, whose philosophic mind Disdains the pleasures of fantastic kind; Whose prosy thoughts the joys of life exclude,
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering Flames of futility swirling below; Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering,
Comments about Howard Phillips Lovecraft
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
O'er the midnight moorlands crying,
Thro' the cypress forests sighing,
In the night-wind madly flying,
Hellish forms with streaming hair;
In the barren branches creaking,
By the stagnant swamp-pools speaking,
Past the shore-cliffs ever shrieking,
Damn'd demons of despair.
Once, I think I half remember,
Ere the grey skies of November
Quench'd my youth's aspiring ember,
Liv'd there such a thing as bliss;
Skies that now are dark were beaming,
Bold and azure, splendid seeming
Till I learn'd it all was dreaming -
Deadly drowsiness of Dis.