Haiku of the Week

Haiku of the Week

cold mashed potatoes
longing a familiar voice
ghosts of november

 

Poe Sundays

mourningwidow1873

For Annie
by Edgar Allan Poe
(1849)

Thank Heaven! the crisis,
The danger, is past,
And the lingering illness
Is over at last—
And the fever called “Living”
Is conquered at last.
Sadly, I know
I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
As I lie at full length—
But no matter!—I feel
I am better at length.
And I rest so composedly,
Now, in my bed,
That any beholder
Might fancy me dead—
Might start at beholding me,
Thinking me dead.
The moaning and groaning,
The sighing and sobbing,
Are quieted now,
With that horrible throbbing
At heart:—ah, that horrible,
Horrible throbbing!
The sickness—the nausea—
The pitiless pain—
Have ceased, with the fever
That maddened my brain—
With the fever called “Living”
That burned in my brain.
And oh! of all tortures
That torture the worst
Has abated—the terrible
Torture of thirst
For the naphthaline river
Of Passion accurst:—
I have drank of a water
That quenches all thirst:—
Of a water that flows,
With a lullaby sound,
From a spring but a very few
Feet under ground—
From a cavern not very far
Down under ground.
And ah! let it never
Be foolishly said
That my room it is gloomy
And narrow my bed;
For man never slept
In a different bed—
And, to sleep, you must slumber
In just such a bed.
My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting, its roses—
Its old agitations
Of myrtles and roses:
For now, while so quietly
Lying, it fancies
A holier odor
About it, of pansies—
A rosemary odor,
Commingled with pansies—
With rue and the beautiful
Puritan pansies.
And so it lies happily,
Bathing in many
A dream of the truth
And the beauty of Annie—
Drowned in a bath
Of the tresses of Annie.
She tenderly kissed me,
She fondly caressed,
And then I fell gently
To sleep on her breast—
Deeply to sleep
From the heaven of her breast.
When the light was extinguished,
She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm—
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm.
And I lie so composedly,
Now, in my bed,
(Knowing her love)
That you fancy me dead—
And I rest so contentedly,
Now in my bed
(With her love at my breast).
That you fancy me dead—
That you shudder to look at me,
Thinking me dead:—
But my heart it is brighter
Than all of the many
Stars in the sky,
For it sparkles with Annie—
It glows with the light
Of the love of my Annie—
With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.

Poe Sundays

ALONE
by EDGAR ALLAN POE

 

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then — in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life — was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Haiku of the Week

night whispers
listen to what they say
asking me to leave

Worst Dads in Horror

Posting this blog a day late and a dollar short, just like dear ‘ole dad. If you were one of the millions who spent Father’s Day pining over your lost, non-existent volatile relationship with daddy dearest, cheer up, and be glad you weren’t the offspring of any of these bad dads of horror.

10. Satan – Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

It doesn’t really get much worse than having Satan for a dad. Sure, there are probably perks to being the Antichrist, but the trade-off is lifetime of micromanagement from mid-level staffers on daddy’s payroll. Satan’s coven rape, conspire, commit murder and drive the chosen mother-to-be to the brink of insanity, all to ensure Satan’s son is born on the exact date that will make him 33 years on the millennial, the same age as Jesus when he came into his own. Who would’ve guessed the devil would be so petty?

Rosemarys-Baby

Continue reading “Worst Dads in Horror”

Haiku of the Week

ghostly mist
this house has many shadows
dearly departed

white ghost witch

Haiku of the Week

shrill voice
mother’s not herself today
apparition

 

ghostwoman2.1

Best of Irish Horror

For a country so rich in myths and folklore,  Ireland doesn’t produce many horror films. Let’s hope someone is carving out some funds from the $250 million that the Irish Film Board received last year to help usher in more scary movies from the Emerald Isle. Until then, here are five great Irish horror films to watch this month.

Citadel (2012)

citadel

 

“Take a look at yourself. Everything about you, says victim.”

A grieving new father joins forces with a grumpy priest to protect his baby from being taken by feral children.

Nothing will prepare for the barrage of emotions you’ll feel, watching a grieving young man struggling to care for his baby, fight the broken system, and deal with his post-traumatic stress disorder, all while fending off a group of freaky feral children from trying to kidnap his child. Suspenseful and unsettling, in the same vein as the French thriller Them, sadly, The Citadel misses the opportunity to truly be a frightening horror film, nonetheless, I still recommend it for the outstanding performances from Aneurin Barnard and James Cosmos.’

citadel2

Continue reading “Best of Irish Horror”

Recipe Corner – October 2018

November 1st is Dia de los Muertos and what better way to celebrate with a little Pan de Muerto, Bread of the Dead.  A nice lady named Mely Martinez from the Mexico in my Kitchen has given us a simple  recipe for Pan de Muerto, a key ingredient to any Day of the Dead altar.

Pan de Muerto

Pan-de-muerto-Day-of-the-dead-recipe-3
Photo by Mexico in My Kitchen

Ingredients
  • 500 grams 4 cups All Purpose flour
  • 2 Tablespoons active-dry yeast
  • 100 grams sugar 1/2 cup
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 80 grams butter at room temperature + 30 grs. to brush the bread after baking.
  • 80 grams unsalted margarine room temperature plus more for bowl and pans.
  • 4 large eggs room temperature
  • Orange crest from 2 oranges
  • 60 ml. warm water about 110 degrees
  • 1 teaspoon orange blossom water or orange essence
  • 1 large egg lightly beaten to brush the bread
  • Sugar to decorate the bread at the end.

You can find the full recipe and baking instructions at the Mexico in my Kitchen blog:
https://www.mexicoinmykitchen.com/pan-de-muerto-mexican-bread-of-dead/

pan-de-muerto-day-of-the-dead-bread-recipe-1
Photo by Mexico in My Kitchen