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Letters from Zothique

@klarkasht.bsky.social
40 followers 71 following 57 posts

Dispatches from a Doomed Land

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Reposted by Letters from Zothique
Deep Cuts in a Lovecraftian Vein @deepcuts.blog · 24/09/2026
My soul has the arms of an octopus To cuddle the whole world in; O’er the cosmic sea, with emotion plus, I float on a fluttery fin. For Buddha has bidden my bosom burst The collar that cramps us so— And I sprinkle all space with the love that erst Was lavish’d on Lima, O. - H. P. Lovecraft, "Unity"
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 23/09/2026
By the god Yululun, Keeper of the Tombs, I deem it an ill thing to disturb the peaceful dead. And truly it is not well for men to enter Chaon Gacca, where Death has made his capital, and has gathered all the ghouls to do him homage.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 23/09/2026
I have just had some poems submitted to me for criticism. One of them begins: "My soul has the arms of an octopus"...Luckily for me, the poems are all brief.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 23/09/2026
We are the damned--the strain and moil That Death has washed from earthly time; Drawn down by tides of Hell, we boil Like toads within a torrid slime.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 23/09/2026
But we instead, but we instead, Will drink from goblets of beryl and gold A blood-dark wine that was made by the dead In the days of old.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 23/09/2026
A ghoul there was in the days of old, And he drank the wine-dark blood Without a goblet, with never a flagon, Fresh from the deep throat-veins of the dead.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
"What hellishness is this?" inquired the Master. "These men are but newly dead--and already the crabs rend them. Such creatures are wont to wait for the softening of decomposition. And look--they do not even devour the morsels they have torn, but bear them away."
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
Eibon had finally remembered the outlandish name for which he was groping. "Hziulquoigmnzhah," he sought to articulate.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
I haven't gone to any movies lately. I agree with you that The Invisible Man was excellent.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
Sorceress and sorcerer, Risen from the sepulcher, From the deep, unhallowed ground, We have found and we have bound Each the other, as before, With the fatal spells of yore, With Sabbatic sign, and word That Thessalian moons have heard.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
Sorcerer and sorceress, Hold we still our heathenness— Loving without sin or shame— As in years of stake and flame. Share we now the witches' madness, Wake the Hecatean gladness, Call the demon named Delight From his lair of burning night.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
Love that was, and love to be, Dwell within this wizardry: Lay your arm my head beneath As upon some nighted heath Where we slumbered all alone When the Sabbat's rout was flown; Let me drink your dulcet breath As in evenings after death.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
Witch belovèd from of old, When upon Atlantis rolled All the dire and wrathful deep, You had kissed mine eyes asleep. On my lids shall fall your lips In the final sun's eclipse; And your hand shall take my hand In the last and utmost land.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
Bloated incubi swam toward him on the air, levitating themselves pronely, quivering like obscene jellies, and lolling their fulsome vermilion tongues from taurine mouths.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 20/09/2026
Hzioulquoigmnzhah, uncle of Tsathoggua, and Ghizghuth, Tsathoggua's father, were the male progeny of Cxaxukluth, the androgynous spawn of Azathoth. Thus you will note a trend toward biological complexity.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 20/09/2026
"Good Lord! What is all that racket?" I cried. "The rats! I tell you it is only the rats!"
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 20/09/2026
Silently the three came to the portals of the chamber, where entrance was barred only by a black arras wrought with the signs of night in silver, and bordered with a repetition of the fives names of the archfiend Thasaidon in scarlet thread.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/01/2026
CAS on Robert E. Howard I thought the last issue of W.T. rather punk, apart from the verses and one or two fine passages in Howard's tale. I couldn't stomach this last as a whole that bloody battle stuff is so stale that it gives me what Sterling called "the Molossian pip." [REH, BOTD in 1906.]
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
One last snippet of CAS on Poe in honor of Poe’s birthday: It is damnable to reflect that America has either killed her finest artists or has driven them into exile. Poe certainly died from hardship rather than drink…
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
CAS on HPL and Poe: "The Outsider" is a masterpiece of shadowy cobweb horror, with illimitable suggestive values and overtones. Honestly, I think it more successful than two-thirds of Poe! [Illustration by Belle Goldschlager Baranceanu (1902--1988), her third and last for Weird Tales]
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
Poe seems to have confirmed me in a more or less permanent slant, which led later to Baudelaire and the French Romantic School.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
Yet more CAS on Poe: My real education began with the reading of Robinson Crusoe (unabridged), Gulliver's Travels, the fairy tales of Andersen and the Countless D'Aulnoy, the Arabian Nights and (at the age of 13) Poe's Poems.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
…which, to the narrator's fancy, appeared to emanate from the melancholy House of Usher and its inexplicably dismal surroundings.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
More CAS on Poe: In much of Poe's best work, the atmospheric elements are so subtly blended, unified and pervasive as to make analysis rather difficult. Something beyond and above the mere words and images seems to well from the entire fabric of the work, like the "pestilent and mystic vapor"…
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/01/2026
CAS thoughts on Poe: Unique, was the thrill with which I discovered for myself the poems of Poe in a grammar-school library; and, despite the objurgations of the librarian, who considered Poe "unwholesome," carried the priceless volume home to revel for enchanted days in its undreamt-of melodies.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 13/01/2026
The Poet in A Barroom Faces of the four seasons Throng the bar: One peers from a time-lost star. (Likely the actual Auburn barroom pictured below - Happy 133rd Birthday, CAS)
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 13/01/2026
My lips are moist, and I know the art of losing in a deep bed the antiquated conscience.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 05/01/2026
But, ah, it was a thousand years ago I took the lovely lamia for bride... And nevermore shall they that meet me know It is a thousand years since I have died.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 04/01/2026
Sitting for I knew not how long on its bleak basaltic shores, where grew but a few fleshly red orchids, bent above the waters like open and thirsty mouths, I would peer with countless fantastic conjectures and shadowy imaginings, into the alluring mystery of its unknown and inexplorable gulf.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 01/01/2026
I write the poems down Line by line from old anthologies Printed on the air and ether, Shelved amid the leaves of trees, Between the stars, or under stones And mouldered bones.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 28/12/2025
In their lidless implacable eyes of staring stone, is the petrified despair of those who have gazed too long on the infinite.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 27/12/2025
These beings, known as the Ispazars … had become formidable sorcerers and had developed an intellection beyond that of their kind, together with many esoteric faculties. Preserving the cold and evilly cryptic nature of reptiles, they had made themselves the masters of an abhuman science.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 26/12/2025
Ancient and imperial wines were poured for them in moonstone cups by the fleshless hands of their servitors; and they drank and feasted and revelled in fantasmagoric pomp, deferring till the morrow the resurrectiom of those who lay dead in Yethlyreom.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 25/12/2025
But still there were compensations: the fungus-wine of the Ydheems was potent though evil-tasting; and there were females of a sort, if one were not too squeamish.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 23/12/2025
The voices of the necromancers mounted and fell as if in some unholy paean. Imperious, exigent, they seemed to implore the consummation of forbidden blasphemy. Like thronging phantoms, writhing and swirling with malignant life, the vapors rose about the couches…
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 22/12/2025
We, the friars of Perigon, and all others who have knowledge of this thing, agree that its advent was coeval with the first rising of the red comet which still burns nightly, a flying balefire, above the moonless hills.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 19/12/2025
In Averoigne the lamia sings To lyres restored from tombs antique, And lets her coiling tresses fall Before a necromantic glass. She sees her vein-drawn lovers pass, Faintly they cry to her, and all The bale they find, the bliss they seek, Is echoed in the tarnished strings That tell archaic things.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 17/12/2025
The very skies were fraught with oppression, and we breathed beneath them as in a sepulcher, forever sealed with all its stagnancies of corruption and slow decay, and darkness impenetrable save to the fretting worm.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 16/12/2025
The sorcerer departs . . . and his high tower is drowned Slowly by low flat communal seas that level all . . . While crowding centuries retreat, return and fall Into the cyclic gulf that girds the cosmos round,
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 15/12/2025
There was the same sense of utter loss and alienation…the same vertiginous, overwhelming bewilderment, the same ghastly sense of separation from all the familiar environmental details that give color, form and definition to our lives and even determine our very personalities.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 15/12/2025
Beneath, immeasurably beneath, at recurrent intervals, I hear a hollow and solemn sound. Perhaps it is the sigh of sunken waters ... of cavern-straying winds ... or the respiration of One that abides in the darkness, meting with his breath the slow minutes, the hours, the days, the ages...
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 14/12/2025
But in the mirror a scene limned itself darkly, and he seemed to look on the marble towers of the city of Miraab beneath overlooming bastions of ominous cloud…and he saw the palace hall where Famorgh nodded in wine-stained purple, senile and drunken, amid his ministers and sycophants.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 13/12/2025
Subtle and manifold are the nets of the Demon, who followeth his chosen from birth to death and from death to death, throughout many lives. —The Testaments of Carnamagos
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 12/12/2025
For Quachil Uttaus is the ultimate corruption; and the instant of his coming is like the passage of many ages; and neither flesh nor stone may abide his treading, but all things crumble beneath it atom from atom. And for this, some have called him The Treader of the Dust.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 11/12/2025
Immense and drear and gray beneath a waning sun, far-fissured with enormous chasms, and covered from pole to pole with the never-ebbing tides of the desert sand, it hung in space without moon or satellite, an abomination and a token of doom to fairer and younger worlds.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 10/12/2025
Exactly!
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 10/12/2025
Yes, but elite college admissions has become so toxic/cutthroat that you have parents pushing kids (and kids pushing themselves) to do stuff like retake a 1550 repeatedly to try for a 1600. It’s affecting mental health and making kids think points are more important than intellectual pursuits.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 10/12/2025
…delirious rites were done to the gods who stared forth with unchanging eyes of stone and metal to the hopeless heavens; and the priests and worshippers drugged themselves with terrible opiates, and sought the stupefying ecstacy of abandonment to an hysteria both carnal and devout.
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Letters from Zothique @klarkasht.bsky.social · 09/12/2025
The gray mists and the grayer houses were full of the menace of memory: they were like traitorous tombs from which the cadavers of dead hours poured forth to assail me with envenomed fangs and talons.
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