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Musings The little poets sing of little things: Hope, cheer, and faith, small queens and puppet kings; Lovers who kissed and then were made as one, And modest flowers waving in the sun. The mighty poets write in blood and tears And agony that, flame-like, bites and sears. They reach their mad blind hands into the night, To plumb abysses dead to human sight; To drag from gulfs where lunacy lies curled, Mad, monstrous nightmare shapes to blast the world. [click on the thumbnail by Jack "King" Kirby]


Robert E. Howard


#monsters #nightmare #poets #faith



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Did you know about Robert E. Howard?

Cross Plains' population quickly grew from 1500 to 10000 it suffered overcrowding the traffic ruined its unpaved roads and vice crime exploded but it also used its new wealth on civic improvements including a new school an ice manufacturing plant and new hotels. He spent most of his life in the town of Cross Plains with some time spent in nearby Brownwood. She had spent her early years helping a variety of sick relatives contracting tuberculosis in the process.

Howard remains a highly read author with his best works still reprinted. Although a Conan novel was nearly publiRobert E. Howardd into a book in 1934 his stories never appeared in book form during his lifetime.

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