Happy Halloween, Day 23
Oct. 23rd, 2007 06:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eldritchhobbitFirst of all, tremendous thanks to the fabulous ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wedes for the lovely gift of new Halloween icons, including this beauty here!
Second, I offer a quiz:
And now, on with the show:
Link of the Day: Grave Addiction (For remarkable photos of cemeteries, historic sites, and "haunted places.")
Literature of the Day: I have two short but powerful poems for you today.
"Oil and Blood"
By William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
In tombs of gold and lapis lazuli
Bodies of holy men and women exude
Miraculous oil, odour of violet.
But under heavy loads of trampled clay
Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood;
Their shrouds are bloody and their lips are wet.
"Haunted"
By Amy Lowell (1874-1925)
See! He trails his toes
Through the long streaks of moonlight,
And the nails of his fingers glitter;
They claw and flash among the tree-tops.
His lips suck at my open window,
And his breath creeps about my body
And lies in pools under my knees.
I can see his mouth sway and wobble,
Sticking itself against the window-jambs,
But the moonlight is bright on the floor,
Without a shadow.
Hark! A hare is strangling in the forest,
And the wind tears a shutter from the wall.
wedes for the lovely gift of new Halloween icons, including this beauty here!Second, I offer a quiz:
| You Are |
 A Franken Pumpkin Face You would make a good deformed pumpkin. |
And now, on with the show:
Link of the Day: Grave Addiction (For remarkable photos of cemeteries, historic sites, and "haunted places.")
Literature of the Day: I have two short but powerful poems for you today.
"Oil and Blood"
By William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
In tombs of gold and lapis lazuli
Bodies of holy men and women exude
Miraculous oil, odour of violet.
But under heavy loads of trampled clay
Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood;
Their shrouds are bloody and their lips are wet.
"Haunted"
By Amy Lowell (1874-1925)
See! He trails his toes
Through the long streaks of moonlight,
And the nails of his fingers glitter;
They claw and flash among the tree-tops.
His lips suck at my open window,
And his breath creeps about my body
And lies in pools under my knees.
I can see his mouth sway and wobble,
Sticking itself against the window-jambs,
But the moonlight is bright on the floor,
Without a shadow.
Hark! A hare is strangling in the forest,
And the wind tears a shutter from the wall.