Lord Tyger’s Poem

“White is the skull in the green,
Green is the grass in the white.
White is her ghost in the light,
Light as her voice in the blue,
Blue of the grief in the black,
Black of the pain in the night,
Night of the worms in the red,
Red of the scraps on the white.
White is the skull in the green,
Green is the grass in the white.”

Lord Tyger, Philip Jose Farmer

The Mad Spider

“What starved and diseased thoughts could possess a mad spider; tiny, red things hobbling on absurdly crooked crutches across the black spongy floor of the minute mind? Hobbling toward a mote of a glow, the cracked diamond in the heart of a fleck sized brain, to worship there or to warms their claws before its crystalline blaze? Overhead, jagged fissures through which light fell from each eye, light filtered by the webs within the stalks which held the eyes?”

Lord Tyger, Philip Jose Farmer

The Bird of Igziyabher

"The Bird of Igziyabher, or in English, God, was like no other bird, although the other birds had also been created by Igziyabher. The Bird was especially created, long after the world was created. It watched over the world and especially over Ras for Igziyabher. Indeed, it contained in its belly an angel, or so Ras was told.

It was larger than fifty fish-eagles put together and its body was shaped something like a deformed fish. Part of the body reflected the sun-shine; the rays bounced of it. Its legs were rigid, hanging below the belly and held out a little too both sides. Its claws were very strange; they were round and never opened.

Its wings were attached to a bone that projected above the Bird, and the wings went around and around so fast with a chop-chop-chop, that Ras could see them only as a blur."

Lord Tyger, Philip Jose