Edgar Alan Poe stirred our emotions so
with tales of horror and woe
Today bombs are dropped like candy
which for the winners is fine and dandy
Love
Topic Sentence: The one thing that poisons and endangers love, has always been the test of time.
For the stars shine bright,
On the loneliest of nights
To Give way a passage to Thee
The love I fear is somewhere near and dear to me
As my heart skips a beat,
Yours takes a seat,
Upon my idled thrown
And the flowers you bring, wilder than the wildest flowers ever grown
And if it weren’t for your smile,
Which stole my heart for a while,
Then your burden would have taken and heartened me
But alas this is love,
From the sweetest of all kingdoms and heavens above,
And none can deter me
From thee
Though love can be cruel,
Your love has been true
Open arms, filled with only warmth is what you have given me
Like a mother’s hug, as I remember it now, I can see it so vividly
And if life had been fair
Then my heart would not tear
And our love would have perfect symmetry
But a long-full sleep took you from me
For what felt like a century
And now you return
For the love you have earned
So I’ll go with you silently
But never forget, for our love,
how dangerous time can be
Edgar Alan Poe Is dead. Seriously, I read it.
He died in October 1849 - or did he?
Do we really know?
Poe wrote about death a lot,
he teased with it, it was his favorite tool.
He kept death close and twisted it like a knife.
His profession was the macabre, the shadow,
the summoned dread and the gruesome aftermath.
He was a writer and a critic - what’s more dreadful than a critic?
They say he died from “unknown causes"
- how absolutely perfect.
When Edgar Alan Poe wrote
His famous last note
The last stanza of poem “Raven”
His character of hope having no beacon
I don’t think even he realized
In how much pain his character was
It is a story I understand
But I kind of wish I did not understand
More than that
One man says we are free
We only pretend we are not free
The other says we are not free
Only pretend that we are
And those words on my soul put a scar
Because I came to conclusion that to be free
I need to be much more than I can be
What is greater than time is?
It is infinity
But concept of time is
Greater than infinity
So there must be
Further infinity
Further continuity
And even if I achieve it I will not be free
The true bliss
Can only come from Abyss
And if there is something that to abyss
Like time to infinity is
There is a second abyss
And true bliss
It is the pinnacle of philosophy
And that is the only way we can be philosophically free
Not just beyond destiny
But in our essence free
Another words only way we can be
Truly free
Here lies too great gentlemen, father and son.
Named after Edgar Alan Poe, so great a man was he.
But now, alas! They are now where Poe is,
There spirits having returned to God until that Glorious Day.
LOOKING FOR LIGEIA -- One poem that came out of Maya Angelou wanting and insisting to me to study Edgar Alan Poe, was my introduction to LIGEIA, for those who do not know, Ligeia was a beautiful wife of (Poe) as the narrator of the short story LIGEIA. (Of course not Poe's real wife just in the story, sort of like another Annabel Lee there never was either a real Annabel Lee nor was there a real Ligeia.) Anyway here is the poem I wrote based on Poe's immortal short story LIGEIA.
LOOKING FOR LIGEIA
The last of feigning death, love now abides,
tuburculin, infectious, inside her breast,
she breaths emotion where your hope now hides,
and clings to what Melpomene knows best.
Dear tragedy of love deep in her eyes,
to love we die, or never love one bit,
your soul--once doomed to Hell--see now it flies
renouncing every hope of ending it.
Consuming as is love, the hate must flow,
each seething, creeping, loathing will to fly,
against what hope is left to even show,
to know the deep of someone, is to die.
All of your will, which dieth not for cause,
has ended short of knowing who she was.
© ron wilson aka ron arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
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