Competition Ends 4th February 2021 00:03am

Have you really read Poe?

Thought Provoker
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Joined 30th July 2014
Forum Posts: 10

Poetry Contest

A poem about your favourite Poe poem
I'm embarrassed to say that I'm not sure I've ever even finished "the raven".

It's long been on the to do to list for me to read some of Edgar Allen Poe's work. Maybe somebody out there can help me pick a good starting poem, or
maybe the lot of ya will convince me to read them all.

You can choose "the raven" if you want but I'm curious which poem's will be mentioned that maybe others haven't heard of, or have noticed but not tried yet.
Here's your chance to tell them it's worth it. Make a poem about the Edgar Allen Poe poem of your choice and tell us all why it's the best:)

I see him in alot of members favorite poets

Twisted Dreamer
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Joined 28th Jan 2016
Forum Posts: 5

Iíve read only The Raven and The Tell-Tale Heart which are probably his most famous poem and short story respectively. The Raven is a particularly great piece of poetry due to the complex rhyming scheme, which whilst he didnít invent he certainly mastered. I attempted a piece inspired by The Ravenís style and posted it on the DUP, but I really struggled with the rhyming scheme. He makes it look easy and he did it without a computer, which makes it an impressive achievement indeed.

Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 13th Sep 2019
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i love Edgar Allen Poe and hope to be a great poet like her my favorite poems would be  alone, Annabel lee, to my mother also loved the stories the tall tale heart and the black cat

Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 12th June 2017
Forum Posts: 939

Poo Poo for Poe Poe Buffs

On that night in rain drenched eerie as I disrobed being leery        
of mother's words of how a good wife should appear        
Whilst I primped and peered seeking beauty within the mirror        
'twas startled by a gentle tapping
tapping, rapping upon the bathroom door.        
A voice so reassuring with words like "do not worry
for it is you I do adore"
            "Please wait", I did implore        
For wedding bells had rang that noon, and while upon our honeymoon        
my flower would be taken soon
for 'twas my first time to explore        
anything past heavy petting or anything past of him getting        
inside me with his warm tongue wetting
the thing for which he'd waited for.
                 Where within life's secret stored        
And although I did not finish my hesitation he did diminish        
so out the door, cross the floor, into his bed I scampered      
where upon he did pamper
my racing heart with words and more      
obliging slowly my nervousness thus energizing my wantonness
                  "Yes, oh yes", mon doux amour        
When acts of love we did complete, and we both were fast asleep        
my mother's words again did creep,
what a good wife should ignore, that a good wife should ignore
all small faults
to include his deafening snore.
But with a gentle stroke then with a harder poke
I tried to move him over        
no longer did I lie in clover
nor wish to work ever bolder
to stifle his incessant snore
                  His mighty snore and roar

So to fill my sleepless nights, and fore go unwanted fights
I've found within a page's folds writings which some feel are gold
from the famous Poe
of which provide much needed light to take just such a desired flight
so bold

                  from his imagination told

And to this day we're still together though stormy seas we've had to weather        
for in my cap, he is a feather
a mighty, mighty feather
with a loud consistent roar which I've come to ignore
still not adore
but sleep I now outside his door, and very thankful for nevermore
                Thankful, thankful for nevermore

Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 493

Chapel of Rest

I stood and watched it slowly sink
 as it sank, define conflict.
As on the pew, my head in hand
and prayed to rays, cast by stained glass.
Recalled the beauty, that is past
Portraiture, when she stood tall
fractures of rainbow, on surfaces did fall
Like statue's stone, their cast beset
In solemnity, eyes, downcast rest.

 Loud silence scream's, goodbye sweet love,
 melt the starch of my resolve.
 Stirred the tears, amongst the grief
as on cold slabs they etched a need.
Inscribed to bones, beneath the feet.
Prostrate, Gods will, put to the test.
Persephonie, snatched by Hadies sods.
The wood so polished it pervades.
Tarnished coins to close the lids
sparkling eyes the grave forbids.

Reminiscence of such charm,
aquaintances will flock and swarm,
but feelings stand alone forlorn.
The coach of death, steers careering
its violence, stabs a blooded spear.
A vacuum when a soul departs.
To soon that portal door ajar,
a sextons spade the graves deep spar.
For is purgatory, adorned bouquets of flowers.
Length and depth its waiting bower
cold and damp, it's need so sour.

Ever be the flaxen maiden so,
taken by the the black cruel crow.
Murder; not appease the deep hollow
But be the radiant nebula,
the southern cross afar.
Love letter pressed against the breast.
A fragrant scented handkerchief.
Vespers sung in the evening mass
 Headstones echo with your laugh.
A sprite like Isadora Duncan; dance!

tribute to "The Sleeper" by Edgar Allan Poe

Written by slipalong
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