I know I know what your thinking; isn't this just a bit of plagarism? I mean, this poem is just the text of Mountains of Madness, the H.P. Lovecraft novel. That position overlooks the edits and alterations that have been made to the text. Perhaps the biggest job was cutting out the second and third adjectives and adverbs cluttering the text. Think what you will about Lovecraft's racism, as a writer he had a vivid sense of the motion of a text, and the affects that could be achieved by that motion. He also either did not trust himself, and tarted everything up with unnecessary flourishes and 'color' or he was a big windbag.
Bob Ducca is a very inspirational man and if you google his name I'm sure you'll find some fitting introduction to his wisdom. When I hear him reach his poetry my head swims and for a moment I feel I am back among the smoke and street-cars of 20's Paris.
Parable of Hope for Bob Ducca from H.P. Lovecraft’s Mountains of Madness
Arranged by Michael Newton
Flying over the higher foothills and along
Towards the relatively low pass
As we advanced We occasionally looked down
The terrain the crevasses the glaciers, wind-bared passes,
and the other bad spots
mystery beckoning in the sea of sky
archaic myths the winds swept in
the omnipresent and resonant cave-mouths
the touch of evil glimpsed betwixt their sound
as complex and unplaceable
As any of the other dark impressions.
no human eye had ever gazed those mountains of madness.
Unable to speak behold that realm
Disbelief in senses Finally saw
fiendish violation of known natural law
long before we had passed the great star
and reached our plane
these foothills black, ruin-crusted slopes reared Against the east,
reminding us of those strange Asian paintings
And Nicholas Roerch;
We could not face without panic
The prospect of again sailing by
Those cave-mouths where the wind made sounds
as it had done when we first saw it
and we began rising and turning
The ice-dust clouds of the zenith were doing all sorts of fantastic things
I tried to keep all my skill and self-possession about me,
And stared at the reddish farther sky Betwixt the walls of the pass,
Wishing I had wax-stopped ears Looking back,
Ahead, sidewise, and upward Began shrieking
Mad Close to disaster
(What final horror made him scream so insanely?)
Hinting that the final horror was a mirage…
Single, fantastic, daemoniac glimpse
Among the churning clouds
Memory had chance to draw
black pit, cavern rim, five dimensions, windowless solids, nameless cylinder, elder pharos, Yog-Sothoth, primal-white jelly, in darkness, out of space, wings, eyes, moon-ladder, the original, eternal, undying,
When fully himself he repudiates all this,
Attributes it to his curious and macabre reading…
But the higher sky was surely vaporous
And swirls of ice-dust do take strange forms,
And Imagination can sometimes be reflected,
Refracted, and magnified in
Layers of restless cloud,
But he never could have seen so much in one instant.
At the time his shrieks were confined to the repetition of a single mad word.
plants spared America…
a breach, let Fall
a horse installed
as puppet king…
in a state
wandering the streets
14 children murdered and decapitated.
This strange conflict
the best example
the rainforests motivated
finally focus on total
only way to
control the company.
signed with the Twins out of high school in 1963 for $30,000.
Major league career
He was on pace to break the Japanese Most Japanese felt it would be an insult on June 19, 1979, he was beaned by a pitch
Manuel immediately began playing again, worried family. The Buffaloes were struggling to stay
Manuel wore a helmet with an American football facemask.
He was voted the first American to receive his son His contact allowed it, but team officials were incredulous
that Manuel would leave Manuel returned It was the best season in Japan. Manuel won no awards that season.
becoming the first Indians' fired over a contract dispute. Manuel was the Wild Card.
the wild card did have certain positives that boded well for next season. Slugger Runs was the club's ace.
He got off during the Phillies' post-game press conference America following Philadelphia radio repeatedly questioned Manuel
about that controversial afternoon a dramatic finale: collapsing in the American Colorado Rockies.
Manuel finished got off slow recovered quickly peaked on the final day guided to his ring after years of close calls
He reached contact back-to-back He defended his decision noting that on three days' rest:
Because of the Phillies' 2008 NLCS five-game win,
he was able to attend his mother's funeral.
He currently has a fiancée named Missy.”
When he had grown,
completed his training,
Tydrus went to his uncle
who secured him a boat
and stocked it well so
that none could say
it lacked for men or weapons or larder
sent Tydrus out, of his leave
to gain fortune and increase the worth
of the value of his name
“So that it will spread,” said Uncle,
“to your cousins, my sons
and your brothers and your uncles.
They will be seated better at feasts
wherever they are in the world.
That is the value of worth,” said his Uncle.
“How can words travel so far so fast?” asked Tydrus
“Some of my people are far flung across the world.”
Uncle laughed. “You will see.”
and Tydrus did
travelled up the seacoast to the ice
down to the edge of the sand land
where they make black men
and out to the deep, nothing but water.
He saw and heard so many things
all through the veil of uncle’s laughter
and laughed himself, once he knew
as fast as ships travel
tongues travel faster.
Tydrus watches Jersey Shore
Thinking of Savannah.
He must get to her. She is lost
to him he knows.
Does not want to hear does not know
He is the ocean she is across,
she is Leda and he watches Zeus.
This is so wrong.
So perfect, the Jersey Shore,
Vinnie calls Angelina a dirty hamster.
T.V. world distracts, confuses Tydrus
Flys in the face of symmetry. Felt good
recognizing the symmetry
The symmetry as a level to be entered,
an ever -present level,
Wonderous or no, no
to conjure no by thinking. No, that’s not it.
(Apt to getting carried
Tydrus’ thoughts break.)
Angelina throws water on Vinnie.
(A new show called ‘My Generation,’ debut on ABC.
MTV would like it
were Tydrus to say
the Jersey Shore could also be called that?)
“You left a tampon on the ground.”
“You’re a dirtbag and your penis should fall off because you’re disgusting.
I’m a single girl, I do want I want. Just shut the fuck up get out of my face.”
Tydrus sits and watches Jersey Shore and thinks
to return to Savannah as soon as he can.
but didn’t have enough treasure to return chin firm,
to pay off the boat his uncle had loaned him.
Vinnie and Paulie D met two rare roses,
wife types at the clubs last night.
Called them first thing
during their morning phone jam.
Both girls acquiesced to dinner at a little restaurant.
Spent the day together
getting their hair buzzed buying new clothes,
Talked to the camera.
Girls you didn’t just bang but spent time with.
Wined and dined and got to know,
took home to meet your parents.
Lo and behold,
both got stood up.
They were so sad.
It was sweet. And so dumb.
And didn’t Tydrus pine for Savannah? Was he big, strong?
A tan monkey?
‘I look retarded, I got a hair cut,
flowers, made a reservation.’
The symmetry is arbitrary, not wonderous
You amount fear me.
A worm, some trashy dark time.
Spends time to toke on time
dark trash can.
That’s how fucked up my man can be.
Used to be talented.
Caught up some sort of strange loop.
No plan or concept
so wonderful yet deep
can be accessed unless he gets fucked up.
We salute that man
reveals a secret moon.
That’s what Timey told me at school.
When we get down we just feel.
We don’t know.
Maybe we shouldn’t get fucked up.
Timey told me wet was a death,
Faucet we let run.
You thought about wet.
That time process.
Only way forward through? Yes
Time, burden of an angel.
heavens of dust.
Story a wolf about where does that come from?
to clear you.
Background of a large turtle.
Three legged dog three legged man.
we thought beefheart could save me.
We thought C.A. could save me.
Cat Power could have saved me
though we have to go all-time way down.
Root of wet.
Don’t want to be cornered.
Not even heaven. Beyond
that sphere now. We’re around a boy.
Time a flute as he to time.
Sage brush yet walks daddy.
This poem is an excerpt from the original free write of what eventually became "Children Part 2" which is available in the archives...for that larger version it felt necessary to cut this stuff, however it's not to bad on its own...highlighting thus the tensions of editing.
spinning in dark
leave this room
live their lives
forget or not
battles, make moves
as sinders, blown
by heat out of the barrel
fire to flutter down onto Bingo’s
jeans ‘ooch ooch ooch’
drinking jungle joose
And the people who fell therein came from a…Hailed those of…as came there
Hailing the standard as it passed… …the lattice of rows…harkening
to… the mixture of colors…of the banners …the standards being reformed…thereby
…to be parted…and this being thus…the cause of the assemblage… and lo
every man of them trembled … foreknowing in their bones…
that…and the lord resolved herself to chasten them of their iniquity…
of the seer who rose to… as if from great distances … speaking full on
through ... the heat of the day, and the quick of them made as to break
from the midst... greeted at the edge by
the dead, lying as they had fallen … and the seer perceived them
despite their being at the far edge of the gathering,
a gathering of all the tribes, filling the valley there called … since…
and the seer spoke to them direct, in a low voice,
saying beware yon corpses oh faithful ones,
do not touch them so as to dress them
or dig so as to bury them, for they are
hateful to your Lord, they are to be
as a warning, forever.
(And the seer did not say this aloud, but her mind was troubled by a buzzing,
‘generations of generations from now the poses of those dead will be holy yoga
to the idolatrous ...(and she knew ... as much as she was shown
so much more was hidden, ... the warp and weave of the lord oppressed her
as hot, a tangled bramble) (and later … she understood that even this
was something shown to her))
And the quick of them turned down their eyes where they stood
came back into the assembly
amazement spread through the crowd, the proof of the lord
in her voice that had been heard and bade
from so far off though she but whispered…
This strange manuscript first crossed the desk of Butchered Switch in a sealed envelope discovered in the back of a knock-off version of a 1942 Encycolpedia Britannica. It appears to be some strange cross of ancient nordic and contemporary Spanish dialects infused with traces of a mystery language the clues of which were provided in a partial key which unfortunately disintegrated a few minutes after coming into contact with the air. The poem bears the inscription "L." and the best of our analysts have inferred that is some form of a Love Ode.
Tiat thitian titenian
logual tylkl woths wothbauo
wopuo o soosh guouo your;
ay ouo dsop uowls ut sogudle
tyd soso eyd soas ut cuyo
sulkr soek theough
slej oid je
lfsoph ejs so paoskeh sobiet
yhe osubn fhelsk dyt
sokjt helsh shwejs
fojsh ahgyo ytelso
ajodthle ah tuo buytho ah
pauos heos thes you
gyo lewjros poufd jtheo jsof uot
fouto er hous
glekth o oa suoe kethle el sood
upa ethe oaus ejtlhel hsel enq
pep o sulsthel shl fa yao uteh
aoe namens ahou peyos dent
pouq poes houo ahhite wuoj-aulp
theap yosu jalmtlh
oteo ruald mpupase osou.
Thelso uthe sloutje lat
Meop usda notho esht
Tosu shou tosu.
Hosul thap pou thap.
shuogh tmmtho ug
apout rheoaus choudtl
ahad socut tklajlek thapuq
ljpa suwald cse thlah telhs
sle asooock epah thel opsjuca sle
asjt tdha sutl the
sle appspse. Htne mse
hatough iu istjt ipig ejsp
dnso tutse haewid saoc pau’v
jotug ewspa bougr apao
bouis dnarnto s sfuso
The gentle darkness, Law
upward swing, traj-Ej
election. not a high five
all summer no-disease
to day’s Fest
of the dead and
the apple i-pod
Ma damn shopping
“purrsistence is my friend,”--A says
to O, “Addicted
and to smoking fat joints,” A also observes.
“Time to work, “ says O, as if in response
in my fantasy
this lonesome rode a bucking bridge
fell and rose fell
fingers flutter the pages
that have never been,
can never be, hands
an lit room
as can be,
Mirror stands, heaves rock through the Person.