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1drbubbles
It's the 200th anniversary of Mr. Poe's birthday today. Happy birthday to his shade, and happy creepitude to the rest of you. What's your favorite Poe-m or story?
My favorite non-Raven Poe-m is "Ulalume."
The story that gives me the most creeps is "The Black Cat."
My favorite non-Raven Poe-m is "Ulalume."
The story that gives me the most creeps is "The Black Cat."
2cal8769
Annabel Lee is so haunting.
3sorell
I heard that the post office is going to have Poe postage stamps this month!! You can bet that I'll be the first in line.
I think that I would have to say The Black Cat for short stories and Annabel Lee for his poems.
I think that I would have to say The Black Cat for short stories and Annabel Lee for his poems.
4cpizotti
The Murders in the Rue Morgue...of course! But even better is Thou Art the Man!
5TheresaHPIR
Annabel Lee is definitely my favorite poem, and my favorite story is probably The Masque of the Red Death.
6Tess_W
I agree with Cal, couldn't have said it better, Annabelle Lee is haunting. I dont' think Poe ever recovered from the death of his young wife and turned to drinking which led to his untimely death. You can feel his pain, misery, and grief in Annabelle Lee. Another haunting poem of Poe's is "A Dream Within a Dream" I think Poe was a much better poet than a short story writer---I know I'm probably in the minority.
7tros
An old favorite is:
Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Edgar Allan Poe
Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Edgar Allan Poe
8Tess_W
That is one I was not familiar with Tros, ty for posting it! Another favorite of mine by Poe:
A Dream Within a Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
A Dream Within a Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?