Poems on Edgar Allan Poe Published by Members Recently Online
#EdgarAllanPoe
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
10th May 2024 7:31pm
10th May 2024 7:31pm
Apro-Poe
It is hard to hear the words
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
#confessional
#dark
#EdgarAllanPoe
#PowerOfWords
#TruthOfLife
15 reads
0 Comments
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
10th May 2024 7:31pm
10th May 2024 7:31pm
Apro-Poe
It is hard to hear the words
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
#confessional
#dark
#EdgarAllanPoe
#PowerOfWords
#TruthOfLife
15 reads
0 Comments
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
10th May 2024 7:31pm
10th May 2024 7:31pm
Apro-Poe
It is hard to hear the words
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
#confessional
#dark
#EdgarAllanPoe
#PowerOfWords
#TruthOfLife
15 reads
0 Comments
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
10th May 2024 7:31pm
10th May 2024 7:31pm
Apro-Poe
It is hard to hear the words
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
#confessional
#dark
#EdgarAllanPoe
#PowerOfWords
#TruthOfLife
15 reads
0 Comments
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
10th May 2024 7:31pm
10th May 2024 7:31pm
Apro-Poe
It is hard to hear the words
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
with all of these bells and birds
even poor old Anabelle Lee
cannot even seem to break free
From a dark, cluttered mind
on a desperate quest to find
some meaning or common sense
in a world doomed to its past tense
With sharp pendulums and pits
I watch sanity as it now sits
in judgement of each poem
lets the troubled soul now roam
Aimless wandering in the night
never then straight into the write
never able to set worry free
let the darkened spirit just be ...
#confessional
#dark
#EdgarAllanPoe
#PowerOfWords
#TruthOfLife
15 reads
0 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
6th May 2022 11:45pm
6th May 2022 11:45pm
caw
the raven had taken to the floor;
I shouted, “you’re full of shit!”
at which point he emptied his bowels on the carpet
and replied, “nevermore “
I shouted, “you’re full of shit!”
at which point he emptied his bowels on the carpet
and replied, “nevermore “
#EdgarAllanPoe
279 reads
1 Comment
PAR
Poem Published
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
Channeling Shadows
In the dim-lit chamber, the air grows thin.
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
#EdgarAllanPoe
#LifeAsAWriter
#love
#obsession
#spiritual
61 reads
6 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
Channeling Shadows
In the dim-lit chamber, the air grows thin.
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
#EdgarAllanPoe
#LifeAsAWriter
#love
#obsession
#spiritual
61 reads
6 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
Channeling Shadows
In the dim-lit chamber, the air grows thin.
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
#EdgarAllanPoe
#LifeAsAWriter
#love
#obsession
#spiritual
61 reads
6 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
Channeling Shadows
In the dim-lit chamber, the air grows thin.
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
#EdgarAllanPoe
#LifeAsAWriter
#love
#obsession
#spiritual
61 reads
6 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
13th Apr 2025 5:12pm
Channeling Shadows
In the dim-lit chamber, the air grows thin.
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
The psychographer draws the specter in.
Quill in hand, trembling, eager to scribe.
Echoes of Poe dark whispers imbibe.
The raven stirs, though fleshless it stays.
Its shadow looms eternal in haze.
"Speak," pleads the vessel, a soul unwinded.
Through fingertips flows the long-silenced mind.
Words spill forth, grotesque and divine.
Lines of sorrow, of death’s cold design.
Each phrase etched in despair’s black tongue.
An ode to the lost, the morbid unsung.
...
#EdgarAllanPoe
#LifeAsAWriter
#love
#obsession
#spiritual
61 reads
6 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
13th Jan 2025 2:30am
13th Jan 2025 2:30am
Raven Song
Raven Song
Dragon blood runs in her veins
She is the daughter of the Stonehenge night
With eyes that see the colors of the wind
When black rainbows sing her soul to sleep
On nights when her dreams are painted red
Like Arcturus that guides sailors
In the sea of her sleeping mind
Ghosts of people long gone
In the naked light of a moon
As pale as Annabel Lee
With her peignoir parted to feel the breeze
On skin as naked as the starlight
From the open window
Where the raven speaks her name
Like a friend from long ago ...
Dragon blood runs in her veins
She is the daughter of the Stonehenge night
With eyes that see the colors of the wind
When black rainbows sing her soul to sleep
On nights when her dreams are painted red
Like Arcturus that guides sailors
In the sea of her sleeping mind
Ghosts of people long gone
In the naked light of a moon
As pale as Annabel Lee
With her peignoir parted to feel the breeze
On skin as naked as the starlight
From the open window
Where the raven speaks her name
Like a friend from long ago ...
#dragons
#dreams
#EdgarAllanPoe
#night
#women
95 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems on Edgar Allan Poe Published by Members Recently Online
#EdgarAllanPoe is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
