Edgar Allan Poe tagahanga Club | Fansite with photos, videos, and madami

posted by bavusf

I've been a long time admirer of Edgar Allan Poe and his works. I've always enjoyed pagbaba his short stories. He is a true master of suspense.
It was sad to learn that a writer of his caliber was found in a distressed state in his final days leading up to his death in October of 1849.
Throughout history, it seems that those who have ibingiay us the greatest art sometimes leave this mortal plane in the saddest fashion. Writers like Jack Kerouac, Ernest Hemingway, and many others seem to have been in great turmoil in their final hours and undeserving of their premature demise. This was the case...

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The Raven wolpeyper 1

added by goonies

Source: Deviant Art .com

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POEtry

added by MigelGrase

Source: sa pamamagitan ng Migel Grase

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EAP Statue at My Alma Mater, Univ of Balt

added by flutersmom

thoughts on a dream within a dream

posted by elizasmomma

*To me the poem represents the transitory, ephemeral nature of time and our existence. When we meet a lover it's is like we pick up a handful of sand and as the years go sa pamamagitan ng the sand slowly creeps through our fingers. No matter how hard or how desperately you try, you cannot stop the cascading sand, until you and your lover split and the last grain of sand has fallen. Then all you have left is a memory. And when you and your ex-lover pass on that memory is Nawawala in time: like a dream within a dream. The segundo half seems to be about our own mortality and the nature of our existence. Once the...

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EAP

added by Milah

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Poe

added by Temptasia

Source: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://cache.eb.com/eb/image%3Fid%3D84519%26rendTypeId%3D4&im

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EAP

added by Milah

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Poe

added by xSHOCKYx

Edgar Allan Poe sa pamamagitan ng Alejandro Cabeza

posted by fanspopcom

Edgar Allan Poe by Alejandro Cabeza

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.
Edgar Allan Poe, The raven

Poe, the most famous horror writer, died alone. He was found wandering the streets of Baltimore, delirious. After admission to the hospital, Poe appeared incoherent until his death. His last days and the cause of his decease remain a mystery. Someone...

eap

added by rainbow532

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eap

added by rainbow532

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Annabel Lee

added by CalantheRose

Just my humble attempt at bringing this beautiful poem to life. I was quite new to my editing software at the time so please be gentle!

video

edgar allan poe

annabel lee

billie piper

johnny depp

poem

sa pamamagitan ng the sea

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The Conqueror Worm

posted by Milah

Lo! 'tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly-
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their kondor wings
Invisible Woe!

That motley drama- oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
sa pamamagitan ng a crowd that seize...

1

The Haunted Palace sa pamamagitan ng Edgar Allan Poe

posted by eriemorgan

The Haunted Palace

In the greenest of our valleys
By good mga kerubin 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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The Coliseum

posted by Milah

Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length- at length- after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!
Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!
I feel ye now- I feel ye in your strength-
O spells madami sure than e'er Judaean king
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!
O charms more...

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EAP <3

added by Milah

Source: deviantART

petsa With a Spider: The Long Nawawala Book of Poe

posted by jamesteach

petsa With A Spider
(The Nawawala Story of Edgar Allan Poe)
In April of 1826, while enrolled in his first and only taon at the unibersidad of Virginia, Poe confided in his teacher, Professor Blaetterman, about his dire financial circumstances. Poe had been borrowing money from fellow students and friends, and had even tried to win madami money through failed gambling.
Poe went on to say that he was now deeply in debt but wanted desperately to stay in school to pursue a formal education in literature. He told Blaetterman he wanted to be a writer and a poet, but that his guardian, John Allen, was pressuring...

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Edgar Allan Poe

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 you read his work then you could come to terms on why he wrote and felt the way that he did,

pagbaba 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 tagahanga of his work.

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The Pit and the Pendulum

posted by Vixie79

I WAS sick, sick unto death, with that long agony, and when they at length unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senses were leaving me. The sentence, the dread sentence of death, was the last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After that, the sound of the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate hum. It conveyed to my soul the idea of REVOLUTION, perhaps from its association in fancy with the burr of a mill-wheel. This only for a brief period, for presently I heard no more. Yet, for a while, I saw, but with how terrible an exaggeration !...