Gordon Grice's Blog, page 3

Shocked! A True Tale of Theology and Scalpels (New story--free!)

 

My true story of the gruesome experiments that inspired Frankenstein is free to read in Gamut #1!

Dark Poems

Check out my readings of poems with a dark vibe on Youtube! Authors include Poe, Plath, Shakespeare, and more.

GIANT MAN-EATING OWL OF THE ICE AGE?

If you like Deadly Kingdom, you'l love Hodari Nundu's latest video,on the giant owls that terrorized our ancestors. Great art, great knowledge, great video. 

Zombie Romance

My new story on MetaStellar is all about zombies who've grown Hungry for Love. It's free to read and only three minutes long, but beware--it's not for the faint of heart. 

The World's Most Dangerous Snakes

I'm excited to see the work of Massimo Capalbo now available in book form! Max is a long-time friend of this blog. In The World's Most Dangerous Snakes, he gives an in-depth analysis of the most notorious reptiles on earth. It's a labor of love that Max has spent years bringing to print. Recommended for herpers and nature lovers everywhere. 

Volume I

Volume II

Talking Skeletons

Turgenev called this little horror story a "poem in prose." Listen if you dare. 

THE SKULLS

ByIvan Turgenev

Translatedby Gordon Grice

 

Thehall’s ablaze with candle and chandelier, with ladies in lace, with men sleekand polished. Banter; brilliant faces. That face, in particular—I’ve seen heron the stage. They’re telling her how great she was last night, but they don’thave the words to paint her heartbreak voice.

            Suddenly the brilliant faces slough.Each skin, delicate as the scum on milk, slides down—only a little blood beneathto grease its way. The skulls gleam forth, their hollows blue as lead. Even thepink meat of the gums is gone, flowing down, the teeth left naked to thesockets.

            The jaws talk on. Lamplight glitterson the planes of naked faces. Each globe of bone retains its jellied eyeballs,rolling with the rhythm of the witticisms. Don’t they see what’s happened?

            There’s a mirror on the wall. Ican’t face it.

            The skulls talk on. One cocks itselfsarcastically, and I glimpse the red rag of a tongue. One bobs agreement;another rocks itself back to laugh, and I see its tongue in full, rippling likea muscular slug.

            My hand wants to creep to my face,to find out. I don’t dare.

            The grins seem bigger without themuscle and meat, but the talk remains the same. How great the famous face waslast night! Her singing caught them at the heart. Her music will last forever,some skull says, and others nod.

 

      

Haven't supped full of anatomical horrors yet? Here's Theodore Roethke's chilling contemplation of life in the flesh, Epidermal Macabre. 

 

The Skulls by Ivan Turgenev - A Mini-Macabre

Turgenev called this little horror story a "poem in prose." Listen if you dare. 

THE SKULLS

ByIvan Turgenev

Translatedby Gordon Grice

 

Thehall’s ablaze with candle and chandelier, with ladies in lace, with men sleekand polished. Banter; brilliant faces. That face, in particular—I’ve seen heron the stage. They’re telling her how great she was last night, but they don’thave the words to paint her heartbreak voice.

            Suddenly the brilliant faces slough.Each skin, delicate as the scum on milk, slides down—only a little blood beneathto grease its way. The skulls gleam forth, their hollows blue as lead. Even thepink meat of the gums is gone, flowing down, the teeth left naked to thesockets.

            The jaws talk on. Lamplight glitterson the planes of naked faces. Each globe of bone retains its jellied eyeballs,rolling with the rhythm of the witticisms. Don’t they see what’s happened?

            There’s a mirror on the wall. Ican’t face it.

            The skulls talk on. One cocks itselfsarcastically, and I glimpse the red rag of a tongue. One bobs agreement;another rocks itself back to laugh, and I see its tongue in full, rippling likea muscular slug.

            My hand wants to creep to my face,to find out. I don’t dare.

            The grins seem bigger without themuscle and meat, but the talk remains the same. How great the famous face waslast night! Her singing caught them at the heart. Her music will last forever,some skull says, and others nod.

 

      

Haven't supped full of anatomical horrors yet? Here's Theodore Roethke's chilling contemplation of life in the flesh, Epidermal Macabre. 

 

The Conqueror Worm by Edgar Allan Poe - A Mini-Macabre

Poe's gruesome allegory of human existence. 
Not enough? Check out my previous Poe reading. 
 

Do you dare to run the Gamut?

 

The legendary horror magazine Gamut is about the rise from the dead. Be careful when you pick it up, because my contribution is shocking. 

The Adventures of Medea

Maybe the darkest poem I've read for my series of "Mini-Macabres": Sylvia Plath's take on the mythic murderer. I wrote my own take on Medea in a story called "Three Fathers," included in the anthology Musings of the Muses. Kind of an innocent-sounding title, considering some of the darkness within.