Part One, From That Dark, Dark Abyss, the Long Black Curtain Rises
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Note:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edgar-allan-poe
Poe’s stature as a major figure in world literature is primarily based on his
ingenious and profound short stories, poems, and critical theories, which
established a highly influential rationale for the short form in both poetry
and fiction. Regarded in literary histories and handbooks as the architect
of the modern short story, Poe was also the principal forerunner of the
“art for art’s sake” movement in nineteenth-century European literature.
Whereas earlier critics predominantly concerned themselves with moral or
ideological generalities, Poe focused his criticism on the specifics of
style and construction that contributed to a work’s effectiveness or failure.
In his own work, he demonstrated a brilliant command of language and technique
as well as an inspired and original imagination. Poe’s poetry and short
stories greatly influenced the French Symbolists of the late nineteenth
century, who in turn altered the direction of modern literature. It is
this philosophical and artistic transaction that accounts for much of Poe’s
importance
From That Dark, Dark Abyss, The Long Black Curtain Rises
Third poet in my poet dedication series
Part One:
Curtain rises and we see as Raven's prisoner, old Master Poe
chained to his cell, held captive by Raven's powers to show
down in that dark realm, where blood, doom and gloom reign
all is misery, sad loss and never is there anything to gain.
From its throne, flies the Raven to start its weekly grand treat
as Raven's prison guards, knock old Master Poe off his feet
then Raven transform back into the human Ravenking
with anger and heartless ire, at Master Poe's head flings
the ruby-red ring that Poe once gave to beautiful Annabel Lee
and her blood-stained scarf for pitiful cursed Master Poe to see!
With a wave of his hands, guards then bring in Annabel Lee
she has been beaten, cut deep and bound so she can not flee
her beauty yet glows tho' her heart has been sorely battered
her grace yet lives, tho' her clothes are all torn and tattered.
One can see sorrows in her eyes as at Master Poe she looks
for their great romance and its sad tragedy was one for the books
gasping at his fallen state, she cries out her true and deep love
it is at that very moment Ravenking gives her a hard shove
as her frail body hits that hard stone floor with a loud thud
out pours her screaming moans, along with more red, red blood.
Master Poe rises and yet again does as he has been told
reads aloud verses, that for his great fame, his soul he had sold
horror's theater now has its usual weekly crowd filtered on in
from graves they rose, Ravenking rules them too, for their sins.
Eager for more, they chanted, make Master Poe recite and dance
verses about his former earthen life and his sad doomed romance
we never tire of his loud cries, his misery and his aching pains
for he is no better than we with our own dark, guilty and bloody stains
Then Master Poe does just as Ravenking with angry voice commands
for all there are his prisoners and all of this, his hell given lands!
With tears falling, the prisoner now recites for agonizing hours
beguiling that hideous crowd with his magnificent poetry showers
every verse a shining gem and every poem a marvelous creation
all rendered from greatest talent, of our world's top poet's station.
Finally taking a breather, Master Poe asks for water to drink
tho' his old heart was breaking, he needed a short pause to think
how he could convince Ravenking not to again torture his dear love
not to beat her and slash her face again with his thorn laced glove
with all the guile he could muster, he uttered, she is nothing to me
were it not for her and her love, I would now be long dead and free!
Hearing such words cried out and with such hard booming contempt
Ravenking ordered, take her away, from all torture she is now exempt
turning to Master Poe, he asked, old friend why the change of heart
have I now broken you and torn your weary and cursed soul apart.
Shall we test this and find out if this great transformation is true
remember your solemn oath, your sworn vow, how I cleverly trapped you
guards bring her back, we shall see if his heart has turned to stone
she dies, if Poe dares utters a word as I break a few of her bones
dragging her back, her heavy chains are then quickly stripped away
nobody heard the prayers that old Master Poe then began to pray.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-22-2019
Rhyme, First part of long poem-
my poet dedication series-
Splitting the ninety verses.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2019
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