Hear the splatting of the pies,
Apple pies!
What a world of misery their crusted warmth belies.
Yes, on the whole it’s a good thing that Mr. Poe didn’t write about Muse. He was an unhappy soul, but his poems and stories have given us many hours of diversion. So we hope that he’ll be of good cheer (in a foetid, sepulchral way) wherever he is (which we shudder to think about).
*pies*
Edgar Allen Poe is great. I’ve read a lot of what he’s written.
Um…Birthday, EAP!
Oh, Edgar;
your dark, dejected prose
hath frightened
many a unwilling middle schooler.
I am disappointed to be included as one of the former,
but does this stop me from reading?
Never! (well, maybe sometimes)
From the black cat
to the house of gaunt to
the simpsons ripoff of “The Raven”.
I hath enjoyed your work mightily.
Oh, Edgar;
maybe someday my lone beating heart will join yours.
Buried under floorboards
in some house somewhere.
– My ode to EAP
Edgar Allen poe’s work kinda creeps me out
In honor of my dad, a big fan of Poe’s poetry, I once carved EAP’s portrait on a pumpkin (my dad’s birthday is in October). Poephilia apparently runs in his side of the family, as I learned a few years ago that a cousin, J. Lasley Dameron, is a retired EAP scholar who was dubbed “father of the Poe Studies Association.”
5-Weird.
I don’t think I’ve read much EAP, if any.
I’ve read:
Anabel Lee
The Raven
The Black Cat
The Masque of the Red Death
The Cask of Amontillado
And I saw a melodramatic movie version of The Fall of the House of Usher.
Well, I hope you’re “happy”, Edgar, because my parents are your number one fans and you scare the living pie out of me.
Ooh, I had nightmares about “The Pendulum” for weeks.
I thought “El Dorado” was a good poem.
Um… Cosmic Birthday, Mr. Poe!
One time, forever ago mind you, someone came to our local library to do a talk on EAP. I don’t remember much of it, unfortunately.
Also, the Enoch Pratt Library has a ton of his letters and a lock of his hair in their collection. I think. I’m not totally sure, but I think it’s the Pratt library. [Heavens, what a horrible name!]
Every now and then when peering through the dusty tomes of the classic lit. section at WonderBooks a teenager garbed in somber black will scurry by clutching a stack of Edgar Allen Poe’s works. It’s rather amusing, since it hapens almost every time we’re in there.
10- *laughs* I should do that sometime. Dress in black, go to the library, and stand around in the Poe section reading his poems in a barely audible voice.
It’s always the goths or emos that haunt the Poe section and slink up to the cashier looking pleased with themselves for being so intellectual and spooky at the same time.
They crack me up.
Um..glorious birthday wishings to you Mr. Poe!
Whew. I just read “Bells” – aloud. I had no idea what I was getting in for. Now I’m out of breath.
_______ Birthday Poe!
I love Edgar Allan Poe’s work.
The Raven and Lenore are my favorites.
I used to slink around the Classic Lit. section wearing black,
Now I slink around wherever my school projects send me wearing mismatched items of clothing.
High school is awful for leisure readers.
Hmm…
Misery Birthday?
Sad Birthday?
Melodramatic birthday?
Everybody go read “Why the Little Frenchmen Wears his Arm in a Sling”. If you read it right, it’s hilarious. Maybe I should record Mom reading it and send it in…
7-all of those in my class including the bells. and I read the fall of the house of usher on my own. as well as the one about the imp, whatshisname
oh, and the tell-tale heart.
Hooray! Happy birthday!
You know, back in seventh grade, I had an assignment to find twenty five words I didn’t know and try to use word parts to find their meanings. It was rather annoying because I only found words I didn’t know in Poe. I liked Poe though and enjoyed the excuse to sit and read it.
LINUS
Poe, Edgar Allan, American poet, born in 1809
CHARLIE BROWN
He wrote Cock Robin and My Darling Clementine?
LINUS
Joined the army in the spring of ’27
SALLY
If you’re listening heaven, heaven, help me, help me
Hmmm… That means that next year is his 200th birthday. Which means that Baltimore will be haivng a field day next year, given that their football team is named after one of his poems and all that.
You know where he is? He’s buried behind a wall. In a basement. (I hated that story)
My dad has a book that says “he was a devotee of landscape gardening”. (I think)
Didn’t EAP go to UVA in college and meet Thomas Jefferson?
I would like to visit EAP’s grave someday. When the mystery gift giver stops leaving the gifts I would like to continue it.
what if u changed to Edgar Allan PIE???? Would he be different? Would his poems be about cherry or blueberry?
Bite Down
Hard
Squishy
Soft
Oh blueberry!
flavor
cake
always
scoffed
PIE
PEACE AND PIES OR EVERYONE!
ThE weIRdO iN tHE PolKAdOt tOp hAT
The Tell-Tale Heart was INSANE. It was creepy and, frankly, rather disturbing.
199th? why not postpone the thread for a year and make it an even 200th?
28- The word for Poe’s stuff is disquieting. I just learned that word last month from the series COSMOS!
Tell-Tale Heart was indeed weird. We had to read it as part of a short story project. Yeah…
I believe someone once wrote a parody of “The Raven” with the number of letters in each word representing the corresopnding digits of pi. I’ll see if I can find it.
15-Mismatched items of clothing are the best!
*goes in search of pi book* It’s called The Joy of Pi. *comes back* I can’t find it. T_T
30-There was something like that in Muse, I think…
Disquieting is an excellent word for EAP…
*hides with dust bunnies under bed. Realizes she is right near the floor boards. Jumps up. Screams “Villain!”*
30- we just read that in school. Now we are on Twelve Angry Men. (I played the part of Number eight, go me!)
According to some classic lore,
the raven utters “nevermore”.
but this is hardly more than fable-
it’s hardly what a raven’t able.
a hoarse coak, a guffaw, or both
is really what a raven quoth.
33-That’s pretty neat poetry!
Here is the Raven, redone so that the number of letters in each word corresponds to a digit in pi.
Poe, E.
Near a Raven
Midnights so dreary, tired and weary.
Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore.
During my rather long nap – the weirdest tap!
An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber’s antedoor.
“This”, I whispered quietly, “I ignore”.
Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember.
Inflamed by lightning’s outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor.
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded:
That inimitable lesson in elegance – Lenore –
Is delighting, exciting…nevermore.
Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted),
And fear overcame my being – the fear of “forevermore”.
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided,
As I said, “Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore.
A man is visiting, of age threescore.”
Taking little time, briskly addressing something: “Sir,” (robustly)
“Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore?
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly?
Why, devil incarnate!–” Here completely unveiled I my antedoor–
Just darkness, I ascertained – nothing more.
While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend.
I perceived the weirdest dream…of everlasting “nevermores”.
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled – such relief! – as my intellect said,
(Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered “Lenore”.
This only, as evermore.
Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid,
While intrusive tap did then come thrice – O, so stronger than sounded afore.
“Surely” (said silently) “it was the banging, clanging window lattice.”
Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore,
Perceiving: a “nevermore”.
Completely disturbed, I said, “Utter, please, what prevails ahead.
Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary ‘nevermores’?”
The bird intruded thence – O, irritation ever since! –
Then sat on Pallas’ pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore),
And stated “nevermores”.
Bemused by raven’s dissonance, my soul exclaimed, “I seek intelligence;
Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn ‘nevermores’!”
“Nevermores”, winged corvus proclaimed – thusly was a raven named?
Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore?
I heard an oppressive “nevermore”.
My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain,
Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for.
“Surely,” said the raven’s watcher, “separate discourse is wiser.
Therefore, liberation I’ll obtain, retreating heretofore –
Eliminating all the ‘nevermores’ “.
Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust.
Always saying “never” (by a red chamber’s door).
A poor, tender heartache maven – a sorrowful bird – a raven!
O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he’d fly heretofore.
Still sitting, he recited “nevermores”.
The raven’s dirge induced alarm – “nevermore” quite wearisome.
I meditated: “Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?”
O, a sadness was manifest – a sorrowful cry of unrest;
“O,” I thought sincerely, “it’s a melancholy great – furthermore,
Removing doubt, this explains ‘nevermores’ “.
Seizing just that moment to sit – closely, carefully, advancing beside it,
Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore.
A creature, midnight-black, watched there – it studied my soul, unawares.
Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for.
Silently, I pondered the “nevermores”.
“Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage – I am disturbed!”
Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core.
“That delectable Lenore – whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore,
Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore.
She’s returning – that maiden – aye, nevermore.”
Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness.
Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore:
“Wretch,” (addressing blackbird only) “fly swiftly – emancipate me!”
“Respite, respite, detestable raven – and discharge me, I implore!”
A ghostly answer of: “nevermore”.
” ‘Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?”
“Answer, tempter-sent creature!”, I inquired, like before.
“Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with ‘nevermores’ quite indoctrinated,
Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore?
I am subdued!”, I then swore.
In answer, the raven turned – relentless distress it spurned.
“Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!” – pleaded I for.
“Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated?
Nevermore Lenore respondeth?”, adamantly I encored.
The appeal was ignored.
“O, satanic inferno’s denizen — go!”, I said boldly, standing then.
“Take henceforth loathsome “nevermores” – O, to an ugly Plutonian shore!
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth.
Promptly leave and retreat!”, I resolutely swore.
Blackbird’s riposte: “nevermore”.
So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways.
Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore.
Suffering stark raven’s conversings, so I am condemned, subserving,
To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore.
Thus henceforth, I’ll rise (from a darkness, a grave) — nevermore!
34- i didn’t write it.
it was in “cricket” at one point.
no one’s posted for a while…
36 – Well, it’s not his birthday anymore.
does it matter? i mean, the thread’s open!
29 – Good word.
30 – I had to read it for a short story unit too. Is that legal?
I like Edgar Allan Poe’s Tell Tale Heart and The Raven. Both are suspenseful and eerie, but are very well written.
39-It’s in public domain.
I doing an assignment on the Tell-Tale Heart right now, and I’m having some very spiteful thoughts towards Mr. Poe.
Poe’s stories are well written, but sometimes I wonder if he was depressed, because all of his works are dark and mysterious, but I still like them. He is considered one of the best suspense short story writers.