Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

Edgar Allan Poe
(1809-1849)

In the vaulted mausoleum hear the shriek!
Madeline is wresting free
From her tomb-tied agony.

Hear the rapping, tapping of the Raven-beak,
Rhyming at your chamber door
Tritely, tritely, “Nevermore.”

Hear the necrophilic, dream-drugged poet speak
With inebriated breath:
“Ulalume…Lenore…Red Death!”

Wonder at his lust for wasting, waning, weak
Ebbing women, bloodless-white,
Like Virginia, eyes Death-bright.

Ponder why he only lived to search and seek
Death herself, and loved her true.
Sweetest temptress that he knew.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

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Joe Avatar
December 29, 2008 at 12:07 PM
I like what you have done here. 'Hear the necrophilic, dream-drugged poet speak' is a great line. that you have avoided using the 'ye olde language' that makes reading Poe a real bore at times and reading people who ape his style torment that could only be found in one of the circles of Hell. This has a good tongue in cheek style to it but also shows a depthness that is sharp when digging out ideas.
Moreno Avatar
December 27, 2008 at 4:26 PM
Excellent poem here Steve, nice use of words and great use of imagery...Raul
Mclaughlin Avatar
December 27, 2008 at 3:45 PM
Poe certainly had his problems, didn't he? I like this poem which gives a brief idea of what he was like.
Burton Avatar
December 27, 2008 at 3:38 PM
the lady who use to leave coniac on his grave evety year of his birth day passed away, guess some will continue the tradition with poetry and the bottle of the good stuff, a philly regular really stirs my heart with his beautiful poetry of and death.
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