Verse From The City Of R'lyeh

[Great Cthulhu]

Very enjoyable. Jabberwocky in its highest form!

Enjoyment of poetry is its greatest reward. Thank you! (You got an extra cup of joe for me?)

[Great Cthulhu]

Now we step into the shadowed realms....mwahahahahaha!!!!

"I Hunger"

The briefest glimpse

winked and washed away

by tears of astonishment,

beyond the fragile envelope

I once called reality,

has awoken in the deepest chasm

of my desires

a hunger.

To know what is beyond pale, human sight

To know what lies between the shadows

of midnight

I seek amongst these tomes of ancient hieroglyphics

and scrolls of forbidden words

scribed in pain and firelight

awful names loathsome

crawling across my tongue

Azathoth, Hastur, Cthulhu

I call to any and all

and pledge to those who answer-

I will give to you sustenance,

worship, souls...

I will offer up the innocent flesh

in a Bacchanalian orgy of sacrilege

If only I may have a boon from you.

I wish to dip the merest ladle

into the ocean of your understanding

grant me the knowledge of lenses

and prisms to behold sights beyond

to veil

Show me the pathways to traverse to stars

Teach me the sigils seals and mantras

to ensure my success

Loosen my mind and eyes to understand

alien speech and calligraphies

Gift me these things and more

I will be your vigilant servant

for I hunger

I need the knowledge

I do not have

For this, I will ensure your victory

O Great Ones, Hear my plea...

I've made a deal

with a coal black man

his accursed eternal

crocodile smile

charred into the vision

of fevered half forgotten dreams.

Stroking the spine of a horrid

-book-

Fearing the building anticipation

of opening the cover stained

with unknown compounds splattered

frenzied rite shaking flames

voices raised in triumph tempered

with gut loosening fear

impossible voices answering echoing

from madness twisted ether

I open the -book- ancient tanned flesh

creaking protest against rest disturbed

my eyes creep over the first scribbled runes

understanding absorbed page after page

days eaten in the rush to know...

Now I understand...

I hunger.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

Edited April 18, 2008 by Great Cthulhu

[Qryos]

~ Hmmm... Tasty!

You do have a talent

Have you tried your own voice yet?

{I intend no insult! It just seems as though you often use another's voice to display your message}

What does your own voice sound like?

[Great Cthulhu]

~ Hmmm... Tasty!

You do have a talent

Have you tried your own voice yet?

{I intend no insult! It just seems as though you often use another's voice to display your message}

What does your own voice sound like?

How I hear it or my recorded voice?

Well, I'm a baritone, I have done some choral singing in the past, but mostly sing along with the radio or cd's. I've done open mic and theater in the past but have difficulties in finding time to do it. I do have a challenge from my mother to record me reading my poetry book (she's losing her sight). I haven't really researched much into it, but I do know that she can play CDs or MP3. So I have a couple of options, I just need to figure out how to record with the mic on my computer.

Edited April 19, 2008 by Great Cthulhu

[Great Cthulhu]

"It's Pronounced: k thoo' loo"

Asleep I'm dreaming listening

I hear you all, echoing away

tingling, tainting my eternal night

under oceanic fathoms of darkness

crushing downward,

relentless pressure

forging a nightmare smothering.

I won't tell you where,

'cause you really can't come by.

Sorry, no visitors.

I feel your shadows,

glistening by in tantalizing

hints of flavor

forgotten in the rush to taste.

Ah, humanity,

I will be a lover for you all.

So many souls to sever, savor

sweet to crush in tentacled fervor.

Please, continue to call out my name

on bended knee to wedge my sleep asunder.

I just cannot wait to meet you.

__

oO

/||\

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

This was written for an assignment- a poem about your online namesake.

Edited April 19, 2008 by Great Cthulhu

[Great Cthulhu]

"Zen Master"

Looking through the convoluted machinations

of man made megaliths to faith,

I see ephemeral shadows of history

edited away in the name of religious power.

Follow mine eye to forgotten visions...

In an ancient cavern dedicated

to personal enlightenment sits many figures,

contemplating the impossible, attempting

to wrap their minds around sharpened corners

hidden in the depths of the psyche unplumbed.

One such figure is dark of skin, hair and eyes;

flashing with piercing intelligence

and wondrous kindness.

He stands, stretches away countless hours

spent with knees knotted together

in full lotus, blossoming understanding.

A wizened, wrinkled old figure in robes threadbare,

notices the change in his greatest student.

"Jesu, my child, will you leave us now?

Has not my guidance on your path helped you?

Has the Za-Zen reached the roots of your soul?"

In rich tones of well spoken love,

a momentous reply is offered,

"Master, it is time to travel home.

Your gifts will be shared with all

in my crusade against the corruption

of heaven's light.

I thank you for your time."

"Time will not be your friend, child."

The newest master bows his head

in the acceptance he has always known,

worn with the grace of kings.

"Yes, time befriends no one.

I will make love my constant companion."

His heels kick up sacred dust

on the way back to Galilee.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

A contest entry on AllPoetry.com; very loosely based on interpretations from the Gospels of Thomas...

[Qryos]

~ Oh! Darlin', that's a beauty!!!

[Great Cthulhu]

I'm very glad you enjoyed it! Thank you!

[Great Cthulhu]

"Mr. Tree's Famous Tea Parties"

On the edge of a glen

shadowed by oak and birch,

lives Grandest Fellow Tree.

A most excellent squirrel

(of bushy tail and welcome smile)

whose spring time tea parties

are attended from far and wide.

Acorn scones and cattail tea,

spiced with a bit of wild mint;

dried huckleberries from last fall

tossed with handfuls of pine nuts;

wild onions crushed in mushrooms minced

and for dessert, his famous honeyed barley!

His delicate hand in the pantry

is well known from mountains to prairie lake

and draws all the woodland folk.

Up on the branches of Mr. Tree's oak

will be seen the most amazing things.

Mr. Crane conversing ** a doodle doo

with ** Crow, Junior.

Diamond Back Rattler hissing approval

for Miss Badger's newest springtime coat,

her furry cheeks burning with the joy

of being noticed by her favorite guy

(she still can't get up the courage

to ask for a kiss).

Miss Elephant, toenails painted brightest red

(for hiding in cherry trees, of course!)

relaying the latest gossip

with her enormous circle of admirers.

Compliments on the food and drink

sweet and heavy in the air,

everyone gives their gratitude,

to their squirrelly host,

ever so anxious to please,

for to be extended an invitation

to next spring's fling,

well hey, it's the social do

of the year!

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Qryos]

~ Ya need some really sweeet graphics to go with that story!

My Grandbabe & other littles would sooo enjoy that with the pics!

{ yes Dear, I realise it's not babe intended. But y'do know most children's rhymes were originally political & whatever... }

Edited May 25, 2008 by Qryos

[Great Cthulhu]

~ Ya need some really sweeet graphics to go with that story!

My Grandbabe & other littles would sooo enjoy that with the pics!

{ yes Dear, I realise it's not babe intended. But y'do know most children's rhymes were originally political & whatever... }

Actually, this was done more in the name of whimsy than any other reason. This was a contest entry on AllPoetry.com and the contest prompt was a question: "Is that a warthog up in that tree?" I wanted to know why the warthog was up in the tree in the first place, this poem is what developed!

After I wrote it, I realized that this would make a fun little children's book. (Perhaps another direction for my literature... hmmm.) Do you know anyone that would be interested in doing illustrations?

[Qryos]

~ Who wouldn't whould be a better question! I doodle some, my mother's much better & my son is a graphic artist {tho' he's more into skulls & dragons }

I'll send a copy of the piece to my mother & see what she can do. It'll take a while tho'! She's 76 & has M.S. so ya gotta give her time. But she has whimsy!

I so enjoy your art!

[Great Cthulhu]

"Steel, My Mistress"

Omnipresent magnetic fields

make themselves known

with sinuous, snaking, swirling tracks,

following insulated cables laying black

in steel dust that litters the floor.

The shop, a shrine to steel

sacred flames used to slice,

precise blades of fire.

Clamor of cacophony, symphonies

of clanging, hammered steel,

a day long hymn to honor

the gods of fire and iron.

I dance gingerly

with forces much greater

than my fleshy shell.

My skin sheltered enveloped

in leather.

-armor for my joys of steel-

My eyes at home

in green tinted shade, numbered ten

sometimes nine.

Vision shielded from arc rays

burning into unseen spectra

ultraviolet infrared,

constantly prying, seeking

to caress my flesh

with instant sunburn fingers.

Watching staring concentration

seeking elusive, consistent

bead formation.

Eyes fixed obsessive on the molten

metal puddle reflecting brightest arc.

Pull out then back in

let it fill... let it fill...

pull out then back in

let it fill... let it fill...

Oscillation machine-like

timing optimal, is the puddle

the same size as the last?

Yes, then continue and repeat

down the length of the weld.

"Spatter, spark and smoke,

fire and fume."

-my mantra-

as I wield lightning

in my hands,

stitching steel together,

sewing with fire.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Qryos]

~ Oooo... That is really nifty!

{Just a thought? The last line in the 3rd stanza, maybe 'sunburnt'?}

You do give me joy with your writing! Thank you.

[Great Cthulhu]

~ Oooo... That is really nifty!

{Just a thought? The last line in the 3rd stanza, maybe 'sunburnt'?}

You do give me joy with your writing! Thank you.

I am glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for the pointer, I'm quite sure that the light ray's fingers would never get sun burnt.

[Great Cthulhu]

(this is the first tribute poem I'm doing for members of my group 'Miskatonic University' at AllPoetry. This is for a young man whose group persona is Richard Upton Pickman, from "Pickman's Model" - yes, another Lovecraft story!)

"Darkest Life Captured"

Ancient places gorgeously dreaming,

waking my darkest gifts,

arousing the fire of hell in pigment.

Nitre encrusted tunnels and warrens

dripping far beneath this antiquated town.

Neglected, subterranean pathways of the wicked,

mimicking convoluted roads

in an accomplished artist's mind.

Denizens of these shadowed byways,

my nefarious friends (family?) in moonlight,

grinning with yellowed canines agleam.

Slumped forward, spinal cracking,

human derivative, partway down DNA spirals

to slavering, scavenger wolves,

with an anatomy of horrific,

the physiology of truly fearsome.

Taloned hands holding human bones,

scraping away at the marrow

for midnight desired meals.

Their terribly savage beauty

demanding brush strokes,

lovingly applied to accursed canvas.

Expressions from Hades itself,

catching shaded overtones of souls twisted,

slanted, unfamiliar,

my pigmented testament

to the beauty of horror.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

This is a tribute to one of my group members on AllPoetry. This is done for Keziah Mason - based upon Lovecraft's "Dreams in the Witch House"

"Secret Name, Sacred Angles, Signed in Blood"

You shall address me as Nahab.

My earthly moniker is needed

only in faded pages of history,

crumbling to forgetfulness

lost amongst the languid waves of memory.

Two centuries have blinked by

in my fevered search

for greater understanding.

The souls of Arkham's young

burnt away to bolster

my continuing existence.

The gentle flames of life

sacrificed to the bonfire

of my growing power,

tainted life, age denied.

Arkham,

mouldering town of yore,

bedrocked in misery's wondrous horror.

Slightly twisted ones

flock here, drawn by shadowy knowledge

and macabre memories to be absorbed, relived.

Masses of humanity, most worthless

in their selfish insect scrabbling.

A few brighter minds,

sparking almost alien intellectual

worthy of attention from my master,

glorious, primal evil,

the grandest Sultan of demonic realms.

These rarest few

I gather to my withered bosom,

coaxing, guiding, tantalizing

with tempting images of esoteric formulae,

(doorways past the mundane)

elder magicks founded in truth.

Sacred lines and etheric angles

bathed in sweetest violet light.

Notations in tomes inked in blood,

ancient rituals validated

by the discoveries of man.

Non-Euclidean calculus and quantum physics

providing proof of unknown planes

of existence, waiting to be crossed

in the journey to my master's throne.

There, the chosen ones collected

will bathe in alien-rhythmed chanting.

Tossing away earthly chains and sanity

for the chance to sign Azathoth's register of chaos.

Demonic quill dipped in sanguine ink.

Their signature a guarantee,

I will continue...

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

"Grandma"

My grandmother

was an intriguing dame.

She was overweight and a golden soul,

smelled a bit funny to a younger nose

and her false teeth really frightened

my two year old sister.

(wouldn't go near her for years!)

She raised nine boys and one tough ass girl

by herself through maddening poverty

in a tiny little town.

(eye blink and it's gone,

lost behind on two lane blacktop)

The breakfasts and conversations

I had with that woman in her

dingy little kitchen,

(the root cellar door nearby,

beckoning with terrifying presence

begging me to go down those rickety steps,

just for some dills, dear, turn the bulb on...)

watching her in horrified fascination

as she prepared cow tongue, now mute forever.

Hearing stories of moonshine uncles,

insanely fast deathtrap cars hiked in the back,

(to look normal when fully loaded, dear)

and the proper ways to bend copper tubing.

When I was sixteen,

I heard the death knell

for my burgeoning sexuality,

slip past those store bought choppers,

"You know LeRoy, you're turning into quite

a sexy young man."

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

Edited June 3, 2008 by Great Cthulhu

[Qryos]

~ Dammm... !!! I do love your wrighting so. Thank you

[Great Cthulhu]

"Tough Ass Dame on Wheels"

Totally Rockstar Grandma,

motorchair buzzin' slow style

through the intersection.

Nothin' but green lights

for you, Sweet Thang!

The seventy years of your youth

have proven a rough ride

at times, some unprovoked,

but not this perfect vanilla day!

Your tougher shoulders

hunched not in defeat,

but in Defiance!

Shawl wrapped uniform

knitted military rank and file.

My red light offering

a moment of admiration

for one tough ass dame.

I yell out, inside my truck,

audience of one impressed,

"Floor it, Granny!"

You strut your stuff

in charged up total battery style.

You go girl,

You go way too smooth!

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved