Edgar Allan Poe Club
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posted by Seastar4374
TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL u say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell u the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me dag and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He...
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posted by Milah
For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
zoek narrowly the lines!- they hold a treasure
Divine- a talisman- an amulet
That must be worn at heart. zoek well the measure-
The words- the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, of u may lose your labor
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, door poets- as the name is a poet's, too,
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto- Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth- Cease trying!
u will not read the riddle, though u do the best u can do.
added by Milah
video
edgar allan poe
nevermore
short movie
The Haunted Palace

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne...
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posted by elizasmomma
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
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 visitor,' 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 boeken surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden...
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posted by elizasmomma
as u read Mr.Edgar Allen Poe's poetry that he wrote, u feel this vain young-man searching for away to break free from the tradgies that he faced as a child and in his early teens, and later on in life, but the poem that i just read called: Dreams" really sums up i think what he
was truly feeling there is a commentaar below the poem that i read that i think is very well put and this
is what it says: " The life of human beings, relates to something called dreams that considered as a prediction. We build our life upon it. we should have dreams with which our life become so sweet and nice
    And...
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video
short movie
edgar allan poe
the imp of the perverse
posted by elizasmomma
when i first read mr.edgar allan poe's work and the stories that he wrote there was a sense of darkness and fear inside the horror stories on which he wrote,

and with his own personality on which he wrote them the reader could see and even feel a sense of remorse as he wrote with such anger and passion as what is protrayed inside the writings on which he suffered a great deal at in his private life.


there was a darkness that no-one could understand until u read his work then u could come to terms on why he wrote and felt the way that he did,

reading his work for me is away to feel close to the man behind the horror stories and to read his background is so hard for me to come to terms with
on my own as being a new fan of his work.
I.
In the greenest of our valleys,
By good angels tenanted,
Once fair and stately palace --
Radiant palace --reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion --
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair.

II.
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow;
(This --all this --was in the olden
Time long ago)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odour went away.

III.
Wanderers in that happy valley
Through two luminous windows saw
Spirits moving musically
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne, where...
continue reading...
How often we forget all time, when lone
Admiring Nature's universal throne;
Her woods - her winds - her mountains - the intense
Reply of Hers to Our intelligence!

I.

In youth I have known one with whom the Earth
In secret communing held - as he with it,
In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth:
Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit
From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth
A passionate light - such for his spirit was fit -
And yet that spirit knew - not in the hour
Of its own fervour - what had o'er it power.

II.

Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever door the moonbeam...
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posted by Milah
The happiest dag -- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted hart-, hart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.

Of power! zei I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.

And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!

The happiest dag -- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see -- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:

But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt -- that brightest hour
I would not live again:

For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd -- fell
An essence -- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
posted by Milah
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.

But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.

Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach of bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.

Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
posted by BrentMonahan
Dear
I am pleased to announce the release of my new book, Nevermore, which is a thriller. When a wealthy Chicago lawyer backs Alan Pinkerton in creating the first U.S. detective agency, he suggests that it be kicked off spectacularly door Pinkerton solving the mysterious death of Edgar Allan Poe in Baltimore, October 1849. The two were contemporaries, and of course Poe "invented" the professional detective with his "Murders in the Rue Morgue." Every fact of Poe's death is included and accounted for into my solution of the bizarre ending of our most outré writer.
Novels and films such as The Seven-and-a-half...
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posted by Milah
A dark unfathomed tide
Of interminable pride -
A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
I say that dream was fraught
With a wild and waking thought
Of beings that have been,
Which my spirit hath not seen,
Had I let them pass me by,
With a dreaming eye!
Let none of earth inherit
That vision of my spirit;
Those thoughts I would control,
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past,
And my worldly rest hath gone
With a sigh as it passed on:
I care not though it perish
With a thought I then did cherish.
Poe Inspired Immersive theatre Experience In Baltimore MD
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mesmeric
revelations
baltimore
edgar allan poe
trailer
Countdown to the highest rated films based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe.
video
edgar allan poe
fall of the house of usher
the pit and the pendulum
the raven
posted by chheyden
Some still believe that reincarnation is a hoax. Even though this phenomenon is not foreign to many it still holds some terror and definitely mystery for those who flee from the idea. But, even in Poe's work he refuses to believe that when one is dead he of she is dead eternally. Being a huge fan of E.A. Poe since age 9, I decided to write an authoritative work on the subject and base it entirely on known evidence, that is, evidence that can be verified. I welcome any fan of Poe to read the 159 page non-fiction work and answer with their sentiments of critique.

One of the superb stories of Poe that relates to reincarnation (aka 'Transmigration') is 'A Tale of The Ragged Mountains.

Let's see if I have done Mr. Poe honor.
added by MigelGrase
Source: door Migel Grase
added by SillyMoi
Source: friendofpoe.storenvy.com
added by SillyMoi