Y is for Poetry of Yuggoth

 

A Fungus From Yuggoth

Image source

Our chum A Fungus From Yuggoth was aghast when we suggested that no poetry style starts with Y. He said that our education must be terribly lacking not to have heard the mighty Sagas of the Mi-Go, as penned by Pwbkry 8 in the year 1491. Said sagas apparently inspired Columbus to sail the Ocean Blue in 1492.

A Fungus humbly states that he is not quite such a gifted bard as Pwbkry 8, but he wrote this poem for us.

A faction of Mi-Go, as written about by Dr. Albert Wilmarth and reported by H.P. Lovecraft in "The Whisperer in Darkness," have, unfortunately, caused humans to mistrust the Fungus From Yuggoth. Like humans, this race of beings has good and bad elements.

A Fungus has been a great friend to humans and other dwellers of the Netherworld, as is illustrated in this short adventure.

Here is A Fungus' poem.

A Vision of Yuggoth

Mighty monoliths covered in vines of Hlsad

Vines entwining Cyclopean towers in shadows dim

Far away Sol sparkles in eternal night

Here on Yuggoth life is like a dream that never ends

A human friend of mine once said

Obelisks lined up on the pathway of the Quartz Landing

Point the way to Uranus

Yuggoth welcomes all friendly seekers of knowledge

With Neptune and Venus, we commune

With Alpha Centauri and Izar we share the blessings of our vaults

Come dream with us on Yuggoth for a time

Come and learn what we know

For only knowledge shines a light as bright

As an osmium lamp in the darkness of the Qbcdfi mines of Mars

Quartz and Wyoming Nephrite Jade cannot compare in value

Beautiful and precious though they may be

To knowledge

The most valued of commodities

Humbly shared by your friend,

A Fungus From Yuggoth

A to Z Blogging Challenge: Y is for ???

 

A to Z Blogging Challenge

Y is for ...

by

Spectra Ghostseeker

 

As far as we can determine, there is no poetry form beginning with Y. So we will tell you about William Butler Yeats, then create a poem in the style of one of his.

 

William Butler Yeats was an Irish poet born June 13, 1865. He died January 28, 1939. He is considered one of the foremost poets of his time.

 

Here is a poem by W.B. Yeats

 

DREAM OF A BLESSED SPIRIT

by: W.B. Yeats

ALL the heavy days are over;
Leave the body's coloured pride
Underneath the grass and clover,
With the feet laid side by side.
 
One with her are mirth and duty;
Bear the gold-embroidered dress,
For she needs not her sad beauty,
To the scented oaken press.
 
Hers the kiss of Mother Mary,
The long hair is on her face;
Still she goes with footsteps wary
Full of earth's old timid grace.
 
With white feet of angels seven
Her white feet go glimmering;
And above the deep of heaven,
Flame on flame, and wing on wing.

 

~W.B. Yeats~

 

And now, here's mine.

 

An Unsung Song

 

A zeal for life he never did find

His sorrow always showed in his eyes

Such troubles he always had in his mind

And nobody heard his soul's cries

 

No-one was there on that fateful night

A shot rang out unheard

His body was found before morning's light

What followed was more than absurd

 

The sad final act of this troubled man

Was exploited for shocking effect

What was done is something I can't understand

A display of callousness and disrespect

 

I heard he was a nice fellow

Who sadly felt little of glee

People have disdain for suicide

I wish we'd open our hearts and see

 

He deserves so much more than the pain he had

He deserves more than his unhappy end

This sorrowful case makes me feel helpless and sad

For a lost soul who needed a friend

 

~Spectra~

 

Per Yngve Ohlin (January 16, 1969 - April 8, 1991) was a Swedish heavy metal musician. An actual photograph of his suicide was made into a bootleg C.D. cover. The fact that people continue to circulate this photograph shows callous disregard, both for this troubled young man and for his surviving family.

 

 

 



A to Z Blogging Challenge: Let's Put the X in...

 

A to Z Blogging Challenge:

Let's put the X in...What?

by

Tempest LeTrope

 

We could find no poetry style beginning with X.

This lack of x-iness made us complete nervous wrecks.

 

We wracked our brains. It caused us nothing but pain.

We were feeling absolutely downhearted and broken.

About the letter X, what can be spoken?

And then the answer walked through the door.

It was a face we'd seen often before.

 

 

"Why so glum?" asked our Xenomorph chum

"To be blue is nothing but dumb."

"For just 666 Quatloos I'll pen you a rhyme"

"I'll have it ready for you in jig time."

 

With Xenomorph nothing rhymes, it is true

But this doesn't mean they can't write a poem or two

We'll leave you to Zane

He'll make it quite plain

That space creatures have rhyming sense too

 

My People Are Misunderstood

by

Zane Xenomorph

 

In the Netherworld, I am accepted

But lots of other places are misdirected

They see me coming and get out their gun

I'm once again having to run

 

I just came into your bar for a beer

You really have nothing to fear

I won't cocoon you family or eat your heart

Bad press makes for a bad start

 

It seems that in days of the future past

My kind was pretty bad ass

But these days we're really quite mellow

You can put down your artillery, fellows

 

From our kind's eggs comes no face hugging freak

Just cute little creatures that chatter and squeak

To breed we don't need a host

Just a hive cozy and warm as toast

 

All we are saying

Is give Xenomorphs a chance

We aren't here to kill you

We just came to dance

 

Peace out.

Zane

 

Thank you, Zane. You saved our bacon from an X-less existence!

Here's your 666 Quatloos, and we'll throw in a can of Spam for good measure!

 

XOXO,

Tempest