Frank Searight is back, this time with a new series of poems titled Lovecraftian Cliff Notes. Each is everything you've come to expect from Mr. Searight, written with a skillful hand to make you think with the minds of the main characters as puzzlement leads to realization of death and the very loss of their soul.
The Shining Trapezohedron —
That cosmic window to
Chaotic, distant galaxies —
Brings unknown worlds to view.
It guides the Haunter, who arrives
In such a frenzied fit
It seeks and savagely destroys
The one who summoned it.
This fiendish evil, brought to earth
By Robert Blake, the dunce,
Found haven in an ancient church
Where cultists worshipped once.
Its one restraint is that it must
Avoid all rays of light
And only shamble forth within
The blackness of the night.
One eve a storm of frantic force
Struck power lines a whack.
The lights winked out and suddenly
The hellish Haunt was back.
Bob might have saved his life that night
Had he a match to spark —
To set a candle glowing and
Illuminate the dark.
I tremble when I read of storms
Preceding ocean quakes,
For fear that I might hear the call
That dread Cthulhu makes.
In nineteen twenty-five a site
Of weedy slabs, slime green,
Heaved dripping from the frothy waves,
And R'lyeh could be seen.
The stars were right, a monstrous hulk
Was freed to ooze about.
Cthulhu, Old One here from space,
Spread mental feelers out.
Abhorrent zealots heard Its call
And schemed to launch Its rule—
To ravage planet Earth once more
With tactics clearly cruel.
But then damp R'lyeh suddenly
'Neath salty water dipped.
Cthulhu folded tentacles
And crept within Its crypt.
It soon resumed a death-like sleep,
Well hid without a trace.
Ten zillion stars aligned just right—
But one was out of place!
Strange fossil evidence was found
Of star-fish headed things
That flew to earth through outer space
On Herculean wings.
They foolishly created life
From Shoggoth DNA
Enslaving it to do the tasks
That came along each day.
Alas, the polar city they
Built eons in the past,
On mountain-hidden Plateau Leng,
Was fated not to last.
Near fifty million years went by
Before an eager crew
Prepared a scientific trip
From Miskatonic U.
One leader, Frank Pabodie, thought
It would be rather nice
If they explored this barren land
Of raging winds and ice.
But nightmare places should be left
Unvisited, they learned,
While grieving for their comrades who,
Deceased, had not returned!
A well-drawn picture's surely worth
A thousand words or so;
That's what we're told by artists, and
I guess that group should know.
In search of family history
I biked the countryside
Along the way to Arkham where
Some kin of mine reside.
I spied an ancient farm ahead
As drenching raindrops fell
And sought the site as shelter and
A place to rest, as well.
It's owner made me nervous by
Insisting that I look
At fascinating paintings in
His favorite picture book
Of cannibals and butchers who
Carved people up and leered.....
When suddenly, upon the page,
A drop of blood appeared!
I looked up at the ceiling and
I spied the awful trace
Of spreading, seeping redness---so
I fled that horrid place!
