Poe

[JoJo]

He warrants his own thread, and I'll start with 4KH's comments in Off Topic:

JoJo wrote:
"Also, Edgar Allen Poe was born on the 19th...."

tinyurl.com/38d7vz

EDGAR ALLAN POE - MASTER OF THE MACABRE
By JASMIN K. WILLIAMS
Edgar Allan Poe's short stories made him one of America's most important writers.January 22, 2007 -- If you love scary stories, then Edgar Allan Poe is for you. His wonderfully creepy tales like "The Raven" and "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" will curl your hair.

Edgar Allan Poe was born on Jan. 19, 1809 in Boston. His parents, David Poe and Elizabeth Arnold Hopkins, were both actors. Young Edgar had an older brother, William, and a younger sister, Rosalie.

Poe was orphaned by the age of 3 and was taken into the home of John Allan, a Virginia tobacco merchant.

The Allan family traveled to England in 1815 and young Edgar attended school at the Manour House, near London. The family returned to Virginia and Edgar enrolled at the University of Virginia. He got good grades, but

left after failing to come up with tuition money. After an argument with his foster father over a gambling debt, Poe left.

He returned to Boston and anonymously published his first book of poetry, "Tamerlane & Other Poems." Today, the book is extremely rare.

Poe was broke. He enlisted in the Army under the name Edgar

A. Perry. He stayed for two years and was promoted to the rank of sergeant-major.

He was discharged and went to Baltimore to live with his aunt Maria Clemm, and her young daughter, Virginia, whom he would later marry. He published a second book, "Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Minor Poems."

Poe's foster father remarried and they tried to mend their relationship, but another big argument caused them to part ways for good.

Poe received an appointment from West Point Academy, but forced his dismissal with insubordinate behavior. He returned to the Clemm's in Baltimore.

He produced a third volume of poetry, "Poems by Edgar Allan Poe," and also began writing short stories, five of which appeared in the Philadelphia Saturday Courier in 1832.

In 1835, Poe began making a name for himself. In addition to his writing, he became the editor of the Southern Literary Messenger, but he was fired by the owner after repeatedly

showing up drunk. That same year, he secretly married his 13-year-old cousin, Virginia Clemm. He publicly married her a year later. He returned to The Messenger after promising to be on his best behavior. His contributions increased circulation from 700 to 3,500.

Two years later, he left The Messenger and came to New York to try his hand at literary journalism. He became the assistant editor of Burton's Gentlemen's Magazine.

In 1838, Poe moved to Philadelphia with his wife and mother-in-law. This began Poe's most prolific period. He published 50 works, including his classic short stories, "The Tell-Tale Heart," "The Black Cat," "The Fall of the House of Usher," "The Pit and the Pendulum" and "The Masque of the Red Death."

In 1842, Virginia became ill with tuberculosis and Poe descended into depression and drinking to cope with the stress.

In 1844, Poe returned to New York and found work at the New York Evening Mirror. He also became editor of The Broadway Journal.

In 1845, his poem "The Raven" appeared in The Evening Mirror and became a popular sensation.

The year 1847 was a tragic one for Poe. He rented a cottage in the Fordham section of The Bronx, which remains today. The Broadway Journal failed and, worst of all, his beloved wife, Virginia, died.

His wife's death was a great blow. Poe returned to Richmond, Va. He continued to write and even rekindled a romance with a childhood sweetheart, Sarah Elmira Royster, to whom he had once been engaged.

On Oct. 3, 1849, Poe was found delirious on the streets of Baltimore. He was taken to a hospital where he died four days later, on Oct. 7, at age 40. The cause of his death remains as mysterious as one of his famous tales. The intrigue continues. Each year, on Poe's birthday, an unknown visitor leaves a half empty bottle of cognac and three red roses at his grave site in Baltimore.

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Excerpt from "The Raven"

And a very long thread from a forum where they take their literature seriously:

Two works by Poe decoded. Announcement!!

[beatlies]

Interesting fact: former Liverpool resident Adolf Hitler's mother was named Klara POElzl . Klara Poelzl and Alois Hitler, Adolf's parents, were second cousins once removed.

In 1836, 27-year-old Edgar Allen Poe married his thirteen-year-old first cousin, Virginia Clemm.

[fourthousandholes]

In the link at the bottom of JoJo's post:
"As a student of Poe, his works, his life and his even more revealing correspondence with friends, enemies and life time associates, after 47 years, I remain perpetually amused by the persistent attempts to add enigmatic elements and mystery to a historic personality already so singularly unique.

Of more recent revelations to be rediscovered, among the mysterious, long lost manuscripts of Mr. Poe, are the Beale Papers as characterized by Mr. Robert Ward in his January 2002 publication, The Last Haunting of Edgar Allan Poe. I have found Mr. Ward’s work interesting, exciting and even fascinating. Alas... my own personal exposure to every readily available facet and varying scholarly opinion of Mr. Poe’s existence that I have been able lay my hands on, forces much caution in this regard."

There it is! The link! "the Beatle Papers!"

For your reading pleasure:

www.potw.org/archive/potw60.html

THE RAVEN.

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 lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"—
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;—
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never—nevermore.'"

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the Angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting—
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!

[JoJo]

From here: LINK

Someone else pointed this out to me, an interesting fact: (1829)

On January 1, Edgar receives promotion to the rank of Regimental Sergeant-Major. During the year, Frances Allan, wife of John, dies. Poe receives his discharge from the Army, (by) hiring a substitute. He begins to make contacts which will lead to his appointment to the Military Academy, even walking from Baltimore to Washington for an appointment with Secretary Eaton. Before the end of the year, the young man publishes Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Minor Poems.

I've also read that during the beginning of the stint in the army, he assumed the name of "Edgar A Perry". Why, I haven't been able to determine yet.

[JoJo]

Something I found in today's paper, another mystery:

[fourthousandholes]

Sonnet- to Science - Poe

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car?
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?

[beatlies]

From wikipedia:

Fiction and mythology
See also: List of fictional doppelgängers

Doppelgängers, as dark doubles of individual identities appear in a variety of fictional works from Fyodor Dostoyevsky's The Double to Season of Migration to the North to Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. In its simplest incarnation, mistaken identity is a classic trope used in literature, from Twelfth Night to A Tale of Two Cities. In these cases, the characters look similar for perfectly normal reasons, such as being siblings or simple coincidence. These simpler cases of mistaken identity may not constitute true doppelgangerdom.

Some mythology offer more mystic explanations, where the double is created as a kind of curse or otherwise through magic. These doppelgängers are typically, but not always, evil in some way. The double will often impersonate the victim and go about ruining them, for instance through committing crimes or insulting the victim's friends. Sometimes, the double even tries to kill the original. The torment is occasionally earned; for instance, in Edgar Allan Poe's short story "William Wilson," the protagonist of questionable morality is dogged by his doppelgänger most tenaciously when his morals fail. Some works of fantasy include shapeshifters, as either talented individuals or as a separate race, who can mimic any person.

Another variant, usually seen in science fiction, involves clones. While genetic cloning in actual science may create a genetically identical new being (that will not have the memories and experiences of the original), some futuristic variants in fiction clone living beings in their entirety, albeit sometimes with modified memories and motives.

The idea of doppelgängers is also seen in fiction involving time travel and parallel universes. In this case, the doppelgänger really "is" the doubled person, but from a different timeline or different version of the universe.

[beatlies]

William Wilson (short story)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

"William Wilson" Author Edgar Allan Poe
Country USA
Language English
Genre(s) Short story
Released in Burton's Magazine
Media Type Monthly magazine
Released October, 1839

William Wilson is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe on the theme of the doppelgänger. It was first published in 1839, and appeared in the 1840 collection Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque.


[edit] Plot summary
Spoiler warning: Plot or ending details follow.
The story begins with the narrator, a man of "a noble descent" who calls himself William Wilson, denouncing his profligate past, although he does not accept blame for his actions, saying that "man was never thus [...] tempted before." After several paragraphs of, the narration then segues into a description of Wilson's boyhood, which was spent in a "large, rambling Elizabethan" schoolhouse, "in a misty-looking village of England." The house was huge, with many jumbled paths and rooms, and situated on extensive grounds; the students were kept on site perpetually, however, hemmed in by a fence surmounted by broken glass, only being released for short, guided walks and church service.

William describes meeting another boy who shared the same name, who had roughly the same appearance, and who was even born on exactly the same date -- January 19, which was also Poe's birthday. The other William represented his only competition for academic and sports success, and especially for social supremacy. The boy seemed to compete with him so easily, however, that William thought it "a proof of his true superiority; since not to be overcome, cost me a perpetual struggle." William's name (he asserts that his actual name is only similar to "William Wilson") embarrasses him because it sounds plebeian, and he is irked that he must hear the name twice as much on account of the other William.

The boy gradually begins copying William's mannerisms, dress and talk; although, by a "constitutional defect," he could only speak in a whisper, he imitates that whisper exactly. He begins giving William advice of an unspecified nature, which he refuses to heed, resenting the boy's "arrogance." One night he stole into the other William's bedroom and saw that the boy's face had suddenly become exactly like his own. Upon seeing this, William left the academy immediately, only to discover that his double left on the same day.

William eventually attends Eton and Oxford, gradually becoming more debauched and performing what he terms "mischief," such as stealing money from a rich nobleman by cheating him at cards and seducing a married woman. At each stage, his double eventually appears, his face always covered, whispers a few words sufficient to alert others to William's behavior, and leaves. After the last of these incidents, at a ball in Rome, William drags his "unresisting" double -- who was wearing identical clothes -- into an antechamber, and stabs him fatally.

After William does this, a large mirror suddenly appears, showing "mine own image, but with features all pale and dabbled in blood" -- apparently the dead double, "but he spoke no longer in a whisper," and the narrator feels as if he is pronouncing the words: "In me didst thou exist-- and in my death, see [...] how utterly thou hast murdered thyself."

Spoilers end here.

[edit] Background
"William Wilson" is semi-autobiographical and relates to Poe's residence in England as a boy. The "misty-looking village of England" of the story is Stoke Newington, now a suburb of north London.

[B]

The Faul of the House of Asher:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usher_Hall (In Iaap videos, isn't it?)
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fall_of_the_House_of_Usher

"The Fall of the House of Usher" is a short story written by Edgar Allan Poe. The story was first published in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine in September 1839. It was slightly revised before being included in a collection of his fiction entitled Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque in 1840. It contains within it the poem "The Haunted Palace", which had earlier been published separately in the April 1839 issue of the Baltimore Museum magazine.....

"The Fall of the House of Usher" is considered Poe's most famous work. This highly unsettling macabre work is considered as the masterpiece of Anglo-Saxon Gothic literature. Indeed, as in many of his tales, Poe borrows much from the Gothic tradition. Still, as G. R. Thomson writes in his Introduction to Great Short Works of Edgar Allan Poe, "the tale has long been hailed as a masterpiece of Gothic horror; it is also a masterpiece of dramatic irony and structural symbolism."

There seem to be so many PID/PWR connections that I could hardly comment on all of them.
Please read the plot synopsis for starters, and preferably the entire article.
Here are some other notable, and possibly significant, links in this article:

"The doppelgänger theme, prominent in such works of Poe as "William Wilson", appears as well in "The Fall of the House of Usher". The reflection of the house in the tarn is described in the opening paragraph, and "a striking similitude between the brother and sister" is mentioned when Madeline "dies"."

"...Repetitive themes like an unidentifiable disease, madness, and resurrection are also criticized."

"MUSIC:
The Alan Parsons Project's first release (1976's Tales of Mystery and Imagination) features a long instrumental named after this story. The track has five parts: "Prelude", "Arrival", "Intermezzo", "Pavane", and "Fall" and its style showcases 20th century classical music and progressive rock."
------
"Ray Bradbury's story "Usher II," which appeared in The Martian Chronicles, refers heavily to Poe's story.

"The folk rock band Lindisfarne had a number 3 UK hit single in 1972 with the Alan Hull song "Lady Eleanor", with lyrics alluding to this and other Poe stories which had been the subject of film productions by Roger Corman starring Vincent Price in the 1960s."

[JoJo]

A Poe Scholar, wonder if he ever wondered about the Pepper appearance?

BALTIMORE — Edgar Allan Poe never lived in one city for long, and ever since he died and was buried here in 1849 this city has claimed him as its own.

Edward Pettit, a Poe scholar, argues that Poe’s remains should be moved from his grave in Baltimore, saying that it was Philadelphia that framed Poe’s outlook.

“Philadelphia can keep its broken bell and its cheese steak, but Poe’s body isn’t going anywhere,” said Jeff Jerome, curator of the Poe House in Baltimore. He will debate Edward Pettit in January.

Edgar Allan Poe’s grave, now in Baltimore.

But last year Edward Pettit, a Poe scholar in Philadelphia, began arguing that Poe’s remains belong in Philadelphia. Poe wrote many of his most noteworthy works there and, according to Mr. Pettit, that city’s rampant crime and violence in the mid-19th century framed Poe’s sinister outlook and inspired his creation of the detective fiction genre.

More

[B]

Reply #7 from beatlies just blows me away. Surely this is "a fit".
If "Man you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe" was meant to inspire the listener to
investigate, then this is the story that John would have been wanting people to find, imo.
A reason for "them" to kick Edgar Allen Poe - for revealing something.

[B]

Tell-tale letdown: Poe visitor again a no-show

news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110119/ap_on_en_ot/us_poe_mystery_visitor_7

By JOSEPH WHITE, Associated Press Joseph White, Associated Press – Wed Jan 19, 9:11 am ET
BALTIMORE –
Telltale hearts beat with anticipation during a rainy, midnight dreary and beyond, hoping the mysterious visitor to Edgar Allan Poe's grave would return after a one-year absence.

But once again, the unknown person who for decades has left three roses and a half-empty bottle of cognac at Poe's grave on the anniversary of the writer's birth failed to appear Wednesday, fueling speculation that he may have died.

Four impostors came and went overnight. The real one never showed. Around 5 a.m., the dozen Poe fans who were left began to wonder if the eerie ritual is indeed nevermore, so they walked to Poe's tombstone and performed their own tribute by leaving roses and drinking a cognac toast.

A fascinating tradition that ran for some 60 years and was never fully explained appears to have ended at the downtown Westminster Hall and Burying Ground.

"I think we can safely say it's not car trouble, and he's not sick," said Jeff Jerome, curator of the Poe House and Museum. "This doesn't look good."

It would be an ending befitting of the legacy of Poe, the American literary master of the macabre who was known for haunting poems such as "The Raven" and grisly short stories including "The Tell-Tale Heart," "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "The Pit and the Pendulum." He is also credited with writing the first modern detective story, "The Murders in the Rue Morgue." He died in 1849 in Baltimore at age 40 after collapsing in a tavern.

Sometime in the 1940s, it seems, an anonymous man began the annual tribute at Poe's grave. It was first referenced in print in 1949 by The Evening Sun of Baltimore.

Those who have glimpsed the "Poe toaster" always saw him dressed in black, wearing a white scarf with a wide-brimmed hat. Jerome has kept watch over the vigil since 1978, watching from inside the Presbyterian church while Poe fans peered through the locked gates of the cemetery.

After last year's no-show, Jerome this year was expecting Poe toaster wannabes imitating the real thing, and they showed up in brazen style. One emerged from a white stretch limo shortly after midnight. Two others appeared to be women. The fourth was an older man. All walked in clear sight of the Poe fans, contrary to the secretive nature of the real Poe toaster. All wore black hats and left roses and cognac, and two left notes, but none of the four gave the secret signal that only Jerome knows, and none of the four arranged the roses in the unique pattern established by the Poe toaster over the decades.

The "faux Toasters" provided excitement for the Poe fans who braved rain and near-freezing temperatures through the night. One couple traveled from France, another from Chicago. Two friends came from New York. A mother from Cleveland brought her 19-year-old son because it's on his bucket list. Raven See, who was named after the Poe poem, took time off from her studies at Elmira College in New York to make her sixth appearance at the vigil. Some sang "Happy Birthday" at midnight and read aloud from Poe's writings.

"There's so many conspiracy theories," See said. "Like it ended in '98 and now the church does it. Or maybe in '09 they wanted to end it because it was the bicentennial. It just adds to the mystery. The best part of it is meeting people."

In 1993, the visitor began leaving notes, starting with one that read: "The torch will be passed." A note in 1998 indicated the originator of the tradition had died and passed it on to his two sons.

The sons didn't seem to take the duty as seriously as the father. One left a note in 2001 referencing the Super Bowl and another in 2004 implying criticism of France over its objections to the U.S. invasion of Iraq, upsetting many of the traditionalists. When the Poe toaster didn't show last year, Jerome theorized that the 200th anniversary of Poe's birth in 2009 might have been considered the appropriate stopping point.

Or, it was thought at the time, perhaps the toaster just had a flat tire on the way to the cemetery.

But that's the sort of happenstance unlikely to happen two years in a row. Jerome says he'll return one more year. If the visitor fails to show in 2012, he'll considered the tradition over and done.

"It's sort of like a marriage that ends," Jerome said. "Part of you still wants the warmth that was part of it, and you go looking for the same woman. No, it's over with. And if it's over with, it's over with. If people want to continue the tradition, it's going to be without me."

It appears at least some sort of Poe tradition will indeed continue every Jan. 19. Most who attended this year said they plan to return next year, and maybe beyond. Cynthia Pelayo, who traveled from Chicago with her husband for the second straight year, handed out roses after the gates were open shortly before 5 a.m., and those were the flowers that were presented — one by one — at Poe's grave.

Pelayo also left a note.

"Dear, Edgar," it said. "You are what all us macabre writers only hope to be. Thank you. 'Til next year."

[B]

news.yahoo.com/poe-visitor-comes-nevermore-yet-mystery-lingers-195637515.html

We'll see what happens tomorrow. Or in the wee hours of tonight, I should say.

Poe toaster ?

you may know this person

[iameye]

Jan 18, 2013 16:56:04 GMT -5 B said:

news.yahoo.com/poe-visitor-comes-nevermore-yet-mystery-lingers-195637515.html

We'll see what happens tomorrow. Or in the wee hours of tonight, I should say.

Poe toaster ?

you may know this person

My Turn!



One of the phantasmagoric conceptions of my friend, partaking not so rigidly of the spirit of abstraction, may be shadowed forth, though feebly, in words. A small picture presented the interior of an immensely long and rectangular vault or tunnel, with low walls, smooth, white, and without interuption or device. Certain accessory points of the design served well to convey the idea that this excavation lay at an exceeding depth below the surface of the earth. No outlet was observed in any portion of its vast extent, and no torch, or other source of light was discernable; yet a flood of intense rays rolled throughout and bathed the whole in a ghastly and inappropriate splendor.




lol








Man, they really kicked.

EA POE Around

[iameye]

WINTER HAVEN | In honor of Edgar Allen Poe's 204th birthday, the Winter Haven community will commemorate the author and his works through January with book discussions, recitals, and other events.

Born Jan. 19, 1809, Poe is renowned as the quintessential American horror writer with works such as "The Raven," "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Pit and the Pendulum."

"We're hoping that the people of Winter Haven of all ages will enjoy one of the master storytellers in American literature, and that people will start reading and talking about what they read to each other," said Pam Craven, director of the Learning Resource Center of Polk County

lol
;D

www.theledger.com/article/20130115/ENT/130119567/1308?Title=Winter-Haven-Celebrates-Edgar-Allen-Poe-s-204th-Birthday-With-Month-of-Activities

[Deleted]

Poemandres,  the Nous of the Supreme.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poimandres


I read the Nous today.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nous


lol

[ekauqodielak]

I'd totally forgotten about "William Wilson". Great find. It seems as though it must be relevant.

[beatlas231]

Dec 13, 2018 10:29:42 GMT -5 ekauqodielak said:

I'd totally forgotten about "William Wilson". Great find. It seems as though it must be relevant.

An incredible amount of detail you get into when you post AND an eye for investigating older posts 😏

I like it.