Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan PoeANNABEL LEEAnnabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe10 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as al
The Raven By Edgar Allan PoeOnce upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,The Raven By Edgar Allan Poe8 years ago in Free Verse
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore --
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door --
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door --
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; -- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore --
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore --
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Dear Edgar Allan PoeMemory is a bridge,Dear Edgar Allan Poe1 year ago in Free Verse
and those brave enough to walk it
become Atlases ‘neath a sky
that only wants to fall
avoidance making hollow
the planks you tread, and your soul—
oh, your soul!—just a catacomb
of roots you could not plant.
Oh take heed, dark poet,
for pluming words do not create,
and raven minds do not support,
For memory’s a bridge,
and I have died a hundred times
trying to forget it.
Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe...The dark daunting whispers ofTribute to Edgar Allan Poe...2 years ago in Free Verse
bounced off the whitewashed walls of my
And shook me from my resting-
And stole my soul back into the world-
the rest of the lonely dreaming world-
of trouble; chore; of melancholy burden bore.
I paced the floor to and frow;
my heavy awkward steps
slightly out of sync.
My oafish unfacile feet-
my entire body!-
wanted and wished
with the dancing shadows.
To twirl in adept unison
with the tinkling of footfalls
lightly treading upon the tufted floor.
However, my timing was as raw as my talent.
And as for my balance-
Could not be ignored.
And so I weaved ‘round the black withering forms.
Profound finesse: a fake façade I wore
whilst my lower limbs quivered and quaked,
and to my knees-
I hit the floor.
With faltering fiery flame;
I accomplished poise
upon fluctuating knees:
on the blanched floor.
My will to rise aga