The Tower of Flints: Mervyn Peake's Fantastical Imagination discussion

Today is the forty-ninth anniversary of the death of Mervyn Peake. This verse from his poem, Where Got I These Eyes that Plunder Storm feels like an appropriate remembrance:

Where got I these eyes that plunder storm
And gather tempests to the tiny lens?
Where got I lips that press the sunlight warm -
And taste the sinewy air, blown from the salt seas?
These marvels, for the probings of the worm,
When the strong current cease?

At My Inmost Heart is Fear

At my inmost heart is fear
For the death of all that's dear
Must surely come;
Every joy and every bliss
Close their petals at my kiss.
At my inmost heart is this
Prescience of the tomb.

Collected Poems, page 152