Edgar Allan Poe Club
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edgar allan poe
the worlds greatest
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edgar allan poe
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the world's greatest
the raven
The Raven Read sa pamamagitan ng Vincent Price
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the
raven
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vincent
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Greg Knight and Jonathan Rinzler are working on a short film based on several Poe stories. Here's a snippet. You can make a small donation if you'd like to help out and get your name in the credits. IndieGoGo: <link
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edgar allan poe
poe fans
the black cat
the raven
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edgar allan poe
mini bio : edgar allan poe
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Trailer for the upcoming horror/thriller film, "The Raven", a enthralling story where the famous Poe must find the sadistic killer who's slayings resemble the gruesome deaths in Poe's stories and tales...
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edgar allan poe
the raven
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2012
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*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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posted by EvanlovesAzula
Ok so my class saw a video on his life today....saaaaaad. Literally nothing went right for this dude. I mean even tho he wrote some damn good prose because of it, I wouldnt wish that much distress on anybody...ever. Most disturbing was the way in which he died. Nobody will ever know for sure, but the theory that he was used as a repeat voter is quite tragic. Possibly my fav story sa pamamagitan ng him is The Masque of the Red Death...if u haven't read it, do do now. It's pretty badass.

Anyway, I'm supposed to be doing homework. But like, nawww. So yeah. I wonder if there will be a movie made about his life where someone actually plays him. I'd pay to c that any day.

Have any I'd u heard Vincent price's pagbaba of The Raven....makes it 10 and 1/2 times scarier.

So long! :D
posted by elizasmomma
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"LA MUSIQUE," says Marmontel, in those "Contes Moraux"* which in all our translations, we have insisted upon calling "Moral Tales," as if in mockery of their spirit -- "la musique est le seul des talents qui jouissent de lui-meme; tous les autres veulent des temoins." He here confounds the pleasure derivable from sweet sounds with the capacity for creating them. No madami than any other talent, is that for music susceptible of complete enjoyment, where there is no segundo party to appreciate its exercise. And it is only in common with other talents that it produces effects which may be fully enjoyed...
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posted by Seastar4374
TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you 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 you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me araw 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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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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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 books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the Nawawala Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden...
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