Friday, March 1, 2013

Poetry: Edgar Allen Poe

Edgar Allen Poe

The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere- The leaves   they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir- It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. 

 Here once, through an alley Titanic, Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul- Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul. There were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriac rivers that roll- As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek In the ultimate climes of the pole- That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek In the realms of the boreal pole. 

 Our talk had been serious and sober, But our thoughts they were palsied and sere- Our memories were treacherous and sere- For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year- (Ah, night of all nights in the year!) We noted not the dim lake of Auber- (Though once we had journeyed down here), Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber, Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. 

 And now, as the night was senescent, And star-dials pointed to morn- As the star-dials hinted of morn- At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn- Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn. 

 And I said- "She is warmer than Dian: She rolls through an ether of sighs- She revels in a region of sighs: She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies, And has come past the stars of the Lion, To point us the path to the skies- To the Lethean peace of the skies- Come up, in despite of the Lion, To shine on us with her bright eyes- Come up through the lair of the Lion, With love in her luminous eyes." 

 But Psyche, uplifting her finger, Said- "Sadly this star I mistrust- Her pallor I strangely mistrust:- Oh, hasten!- oh, let us not linger! Oh, fly!- let us fly!- for we must." In terror she spoke, letting sink her Wings until they trailed in the dust- In agony sobbed, letting sink her Plumes till they trailed in the dust- Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

 I replied- "This is nothing but dreaming: Let us on by this tremulous light! Let us bathe in this crystalline light! Its Sybilic splendor is beaming With Hope and in Beauty to-night:- See!- it flickers up the sky through the night! Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming, And be sure it will lead us aright- We safely may trust to a gleaming That cannot but guide us aright, Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night." 

 Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom- And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb- By the door of a legended tomb; And I said- "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?" She replied- "Ulalume- Ulalume- 'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!" 

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober As the leaves that were crisped and sere- As the leaves that were withering and sere- And I cried- "It was surely October On this very night of last year That I journeyed- I journeyed down here- That I brought a dread burden down here- On this night of all nights in the year, Ah, what demon has tempted me here? Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber- This misty mid region of Weir- Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber, This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

Confessions: Feb 25th - March 1st

 Monday Feb. 25th: I play out conversations that never did and never would happen in my head... All the time involving multiple situations that I would never be in. Most of the time the things people say in them are things they would NEVER say in real life, though I wish they would.

 Tuesday Feb. 26th: I'm always screwing things up... I always say the wrong things at the wrong time and end up messing things up and sometimes it's to messed up for me to fix it.

 Wednesday Feb. 27th: I'm really sensitive... Though I pretend like I don't care what anyone thinks when on the inside it absolutely kills me. Whether or not I show it, on the inside I'm like a scared little kid all alone in a grocery store.

 Thursday Feb. 28th: I'm trying my best to be happy again... I really truly am, but it's so hard sometimes to avoid falling back into the numbness. Lately it's like a wave of nothingness falls over me at random times and I feel just that, absolutely nothing.

Friday March 1st: I sometimes wonder if anyone cares at all... And why they pretend to care if they really don't??