Justin Ehrlich was born in Essex in 1985 and has a degree in Philosophy. He writes poetry and short fiction dealing with themes of death, insanity and the supernatural.
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Archive
Sites I Like
- The Literary Gothic
- The Victorian Web: An Overview
- The Art of Andy Paciorek
- The Paul Rumsey Homepage
- art of the beautiful-grotesque - Home
- themystic's posterous - Art of the Mystic Otto Rapp
- Home page for Russian symbolist painter Denis Forkas Kostromitin
- The Hermetic Library at Hermetic.com
- Julian Jaynes Society | Exploring Consciousness and the Bicameral Mind Theory Since 1997
- Synesthesia Garden - a weird art + style blog |
- The Official Website of Laurie Lipton
- DNAche
Maria White Lowell (1821-1853)
An Opium Fantasy
Soft hangs the opiate in the brain,
And lulling soothes the edge of pain,
Till harshest sound, far off or near,
Sings floating in its mellow sphere.What wakes me from my heavy dream?
Or am I still asleep?
Those long and soft vibrations seem
A slumberous charm to keep.The graceful play, a moment stopt,
Distance again unrolls,
Like silver balls, that, softly dropt,
Ring into golden bowls.I question of the poppies red,
The fairy flaunting band,
While I, a weed with drooping head,
Within their phalanx stand:‘'Some airy one, with scarlet cap,
The name unfold to me
Of this new minstrel who can lap
Sleep in his melody!'Bright grew their scarlet-kerchief’d heads.
As freshening winds had blown,
And from their gently-swaying beds
They sang in undertone:'Oh he is but a little owl,
The smallest of his kin,
Who sits beneath the midnight's cowl
And makes this airy din.''Deceitful tongues of fiery tints!
Far more than this ye know,
That he is your enchanted prince
Doom'd as an owl to go;--'Nor his fond play for years hath stopt.
But nightly he unrolls
His silver balls, that, softly dropt,
Ring into golden bowls.'
