Although the semicircle of the Moon is placed above the circle of the Sun and would appear to be superior, nevertheless we know that the Sun is ruler and King. We see that the Moon in her shape and her proximity rivals the Sun with her grandeur, which is apparent to ordinary men, yet the face, or a semi-sphere of the Moon, always reflects the light of the Sun. It desires so much to be impregnated with solar rays and to be transformed into Sun that at times it disappears completely from the skies and some days after reappears, and we have represented her by the figure of the Horns (Cornucopia).

 – John Dee – Monas Hieroglyphica (Theorem IV) –

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When a traveller in north central Massachusetts takes the wrong fork at the junction of Aylesbury pike just beyond Dean’s Corners he comes upon a lonely and curious country. The ground gets higher, and the brier-bordered stone walls press closer and closer against the ruts of the dusty, curving road. The trees of the frequent forest belts seem too large, and the wild weeds, brambles and grasses attain a luxuriance not often found in settled regions […]

Across a covered bridge one sees a small village huddled between the stream and the vertical slope of Round Mountain, and wonders at the cluster of rotting gambrel roofs bespeaking an earlier architectural period than that of the neighbouring region. It is not reassuring to see, on a closer glance, that most of the houses are deserted and falling to ruin […]

One dreads to trust the tenebrous tunnel of the bridge, yet there is no way to avoid it. Once across, it is hard to prevent the impression of a faint, malign odour about the village street, as of the massed mould and decay of centuries. It is always a relief to get clear of the place, and to follow the narrow road around the base of the hills and across the level country beyond till it rejoins the Aylesbury pike.

Afterwards, one sometimes learns that one has been through Dunwich.

– H.P. Lovecraft – The Dunwich Horror –

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Another New Blood post to share this month’s new pieces.

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If I were a spider and my mother was the moon
Out came the sun and dried off her cocoon
Underneath the water I would live and die too soon
If I were a spider and my mother was the moon

– King Dude – My mother was the moon –

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Another New Blood post to share the latest creations.

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Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow
[…]
Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone,
She is at rest.

– Oscar Wilde – Requiescat –

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This is the battle between day and night… I see black light.

– Victor Hugo’s last words –

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The moon pours to the heart its white intimacy
Of a vaporous dream where passes a beauty,
And in the hollow paths where the freshness exhales
Adds to the puddles some opal-coloured pools.

– Albert Lozeau – To the Moon –

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Each of us pursues his trade,
I and Pangur my comrade,
His whole fancy on the hunt,
And mine for learning ardent.

– VIIIth century anonymous Irish Monk (translation Frank O’Connor) –

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The angels sing in a choir of sleep that won’t quiet the Beast within
It’s Midnight in the tower of black, it’s 3am and the witches are back again
In the castle of the dead you can’t hear a word that’s said
Is it all inside my head, is it even real?
In the castle of the dead

– King Dude – The Castle –

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