Halloween 2018

The Great Day Is Here

Below – Florene Welebny: “Halloween Woods”

Art for Halloween: Henry Fuseli: “The Nightmare”

A Poem for Halloween

“The Little Ghost”
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I knew her for a little ghost
That in my garden walked;
The wall is high—higher than most—
And the green gate was locked.
And yet I did not think of that
Till after she was gone—
I knew her by the broad white hat,
All ruffled, she had on.
By the dear ruffles round her feet,
By her small hands that hung
In their lace mitts, austere and sweet,
Her gown’s white folds among.
I watched to see if she would stay,
What she would do—and oh!
She looked as if she liked the way
I let my garden grow!
She bent above my favourite mint
With conscious garden grace,
She smiled and smiled—there was no hint
Of sadness in her face.
She held her gown on either side
To let her slippers show,
And up the walk she went with pride,
The way great ladies go.
And where the wall is built in new
And is of ivy bare
She paused—then opened and passed through
A gate that once was there.

Art for Halloween: Andy Warhol: “Electric Chair”

A Halloween Classic

Art for Halloween: William Blake: “The Ghost of a Flea”

Haunting Last Words of a Poet: Emily Dickinson

“I must go in; the fog is rising.”

Art for Halloween: Caravaggio: “Medusa”

A Poem for Halloween

“Ghost House”
by Robert Frost

I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.

O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;

The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about:
I hear him begin far enough away
Full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.

It is under the small, dim, summer star.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me—
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad—
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.

Art for Halloween: Edvard Munch: “The Scream”

A Halloween Classic

Art for Halloween: Vincent van Gogh: “Head of a skeleton with a burning cigarette”

Halloween Notes from the Beach: “REDRUM.”

Art for Halloween: Aksel Waldemar Johannessen: “The night”

A Poem for Halloween

“All Hallows’ Eve”
by Dorothea Tanning

Be perfect, make it otherwise.
Yesterday is torn in shreds.
Lightning’s thousand sulfur eyes
Rip apart the breathing beds.
Hear bones crack and pulverize.
Doom creeps in on rubber treads.
Countless overwrought housewives,
Minds unraveling like threads,
Try lipstick shades to tranquilize
Fears of age and general dreads.
Sit tight, be perfect, swat the spies,
Don’t take faucets for fountainheads.
Drink tasty antidotes. Otherwise
You and the werewolf: newlyweds.

Art for Halloween: Henryk Weyssenoff: “Premonition”

A Halloween Classic

Art for Halloween: Setsuo: “Ghost in the Rain”

Haunting Last Words of a Poet: John Keats

“I can feel the daisies growing over me.”

Art for Halloween: Yoshitoshi: “Spider Ghost”

A Poem for Halloween

“All Hallows”
by Louise Gluck

Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises:

This is the barrenness
of harvest or pestilence.
And the wife leaning out the window
with her hand extended, as in payment,
and the seeds
distinct, gold, calling
‘Come here
Come here, little one’

And the soul creeps out of the tree.

Art for Halloween: John Everett Millais: “Speak! Speak!”

Haunting Last Words of a Poet: Philip Larkin

“I am going to the inevitable.”

Art for Halloween: Alfred Kubin-Water: “Ghost”

A Halloween Classic

Art for Halloween: Peter Booth: Untitled

Halloween Notes from the Beach: “Nevermore…”

Art for Halloween: Utagawa Kuniyoshi: “Takiyashi the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre”

A Poem for Halloween

“Her Kind”
by Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.

Art for Halloween: Gustav Klimt: “Gorgons and Typhon”


This entry was posted in Art and Photography, Books, Movies, Music, and Television, Opinion. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply