Poe Redux

[Pendragon]

Poe Redux

Ah, the midnight’s seem so dreary, since his eye made me erupt in mortal fury,
And I dispatched him in a hurry and slid his body beneath the floor.
Then there was my dear wife, that old bat, split her skull right enough with a hatchet
But that wretched one-eye black cat somehow got walled up with her in the tomb!
How did I get that snarling one-eyed feline walled up with her in her brick wall tomb?
Ah, but nevermore…

Who but I knew more about the walling? Hee-hee. Stopped old Fortunato’s endless squalling!
What cared I for all his tears and bawling as I sipped Amontillado and made my brickwork sure.
For I had this very disagee-able thought that he might end up like the Lady Ligeia,
And I needed no more ghosts to come for me-a in some other shape or form—
No, I’d have no younger versions rise to return to me-a as older ghostly friends in any shape or form—
Ah, well, nevermore…

I sometimes think of Prospero Prince, and wonder if he ever got the slightest of little hints,
That even as he embraced his stolen little princess, I released the Red Death within his castle doors?
But I myself have been untouchable, because I have never even been in trouble,
And unless I was fool enough to babble about my own crimes who could witness against me on the stand?
Do you think me fool enough to babble—against—myself—on—on—the –witness—stand?
Gulp! Well, anyway, nevermore…

Pendragon
© 1/21/08

[PrinceMyshkin]

Looks like you've read one hell of a lot more Poe than I have! Hilarious!

[Pendragon]

Perhaps. Expanded version.

Poe Reduex

Ah, the midnight’s seem so dreary, since his eye made me erupt in mortal fury,
And I dispatched him in a hurry and slid his body beneath the floor.
Then there was my dear wife, that old bat, split her skull right enough with a hatchet
But that wretched one-eye black cat somehow got walled up with her in the tomb!
How did I get that snarling one-eyed feline walled up with her in her brick wall tomb?
Ah, but nevermore…

Who but I knew more about the walling? Hee-hee. Stopped old Fortunato’s endless squalling!
What cared I for all his tears and bawling as I sipped Amontillado and made my brickwork sure.
For I had this very disagee-able thought that he might end up like the Lady Ligeia,
And I needed no more ghosts to come for me-a in some other shape or form—
No, I’d have no younger versions rise to return to me-a as older ghostly friends in any shape or form—
Ah, well, nevermore…

And poor old Gordon Pym from fair Nantucket, lost at sea and about to kick the bucket,
Found that Mr. Peters tasted just like chicken nuggets with lime splashed on for flavor.
And the hypnotized man in the jaws of death, M. Valdermar at last ceased his breath,
Only to cry from somewhere beyond death, “Wake me! Put me to sleep! I’m dead! Do me the favor!
“I tell you one and all I’m dead will you please do wake or put me to sleep for a favor!”
Gruesome, nevermore…

Oh, these midnights! I could tell you of some, how that poor soldier fool remained dumb,
Tortured as he was by pit and pendulum in a fiery walled room without escape or door!
Then the man who survived the wreaked ship, by means of a heroic acrobatic flip,
But then found himself aboard a crib he couldn’t slip, sailing to Davey Jones’ murky shore…
With a bunch of ancient men sailing to world’s end, Davey Jones’ shores
Lost, I fear forevermore

Ah, and I shall never forget the fair Bernice, I sent her a most lovely funeral wreath,
But still someone pulled those lovely teeth and she wasn’t dead, though at Death’s door.
And there was poor Roderick Usher, buried his sister prematurely but couldn’t shush her,
She raised one dark night and the storm crushed her and her brother but I escaped out of the door—
The storm crushed her and the entire castle into the tarn and I barely made it out the door…
On a midnight, nevermore…

I sometimes think of Prospero Prince, and wonder if he ever got the slightest of little hints,
That even as he embraced his stolen little princess, I released the Red Death within his castle doors?
But I myself have been untouchable, because I have never even been in trouble,
And unless I was fool enough to babble about my own crimes who could witness against me on the stand?
Do you think me fool enough to babble—against—myself—on—on—the –witness—stand?
Gulp! Well, anyway, nevermore…

Pendragon
© 1/21/08

[Granny5]

Very Clever, Pen!

[blazeofglory]

A fictionalized piece of poetry. Indeed it moves any reader.

[Anza]

*Begins bowing, and kissing your feet* You are my HERO! I god whorship you. That is pretty amazing. This actually deserves my special word-- SNAZZY!!!!