au revoir Stan Sargent

Nightmare from Crete

Stand within a ring of standing stones,
Tremble as you touch the hungry air,
Answer that which haunts a Cretan lair,
Night-usurper of King Minos' throne!
Language from a dim forgotten age
Eagerly develops on your tongue;
Yowl an antient name forever sung,
Stimulate a nameless heritage.

Appetites that ravage ev'ry nerve,
Rabid as a lust you cannot quench,
Greedily devour your soul, and hence,
Esoteric blasphemy you serve.
Netherworld of Darkness spiraling,
Titan Qom-maq is your Ever King!

I wrote ye above poem in tribute to my friend and fellow-author, Stanley C. Sargent. It was publish'd in my 2003 hardcover collection, Sesqua Valley & Other Haunts (pb reprint from Mythos Books, 2008). For my 1999 collection from Mythos Books, Dreams of Lovecraftian Horror, Stan wrote an Introduction and supplied cover/interior artwork. That book was dedicated to "Stanley C. Sargent, Esquire, my brother in prose". Now, to-day, ye Ides of March, is a sad day for me, because not only is it the date of H. P. Lovecraft's death, it is ye date on which my beloved Todd died in my arms. But to-day it is especially poignant, because my buddy Stan died on ye sixth of this month. I don't know the cause of death. 

I was able to meet Stan when some convention I attended took place in his home town of San Francisco and we shared a hotel room. Then we shared rooms again when he attended the H. P. Lovecraft Film Festival. He was dubious about my drag-queen lifestyle (indeed, when he drew my portrait for Dreams of Lovecraftian Horror it pleased him to portray me far more masculine than I then dressed, wanting to make me look butch rather than fem). 

He was a good friend, although we became distant because of silly nonsense in these past few years. I shall always cherish his memory and return to enjoy his wonderful short stories. Peace unto his Shade.