LostCarcosa25

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25.12.2009

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The Yellow Sign Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.

Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies,
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.

Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.

Song of my soul, my voice is dead,
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.

Cassilda's Song in The King in Yellow .
Act I. Scene 2.

Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.
Stranger: Indeed?
Cassilda: Indeed it's time. We all have laid aside disguise but you.
Stranger: I wear no mask.
Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) No mask? No mask?

The King in Yellow
Act I. Scene 2.


A Dull Sound as of KnockingWho raps here on my door tonight,
Stirring my sleep with the deadened sound?
Here in my Room there is naught of light,
And silence locks me round.

The taste of the earth is in my mouth,
Stillness, decay and lack of light,
And dull as doom the rapping
Thuds on my Door tonight.

My Room is narrow and still and black,
In such have kings and beggars hid;
And falling clods are the knuckles
That rap on my coffin lid.
- Robert E. Howard

DagonThen suddenly I saw it. With only a slight churning to mark its rise to the surface, the thing slid into view above the dark waters. Vast, Polyphemus-like, and loathsome, it darted like a stupendous monster of nightmares to the monolith, about which it flung its gigantic scaly arms, the while it bowed its hideous head and gave vent to certain measured sounds. I think I went mad then.
-H.P. Lovecraft

Pickman's Model Well - that paper wasn't a photograph of any background, after all. What it shewed was simply the monstrous being he was painting on that awful canvas. It was the model he was using - and its background was merely the wall of the cellar studio in minute detail. But by God, Eliot, it was a photograph from life.
-H.P. Lovecraft

The Black Stone And the thought recurs to me - if such a monstrous entity as the Master of the Monolith somehow survived its own unspeakably distant epoch so long - what nameless shapes may even now lurk in the dark places of the world?
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