Woot! NaPoWriMo poem 1!!!
Written for my 100 Poem Project, for the topic "Gothic Style." I played off Edgar Allen Poe's poem "<a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/annabel-lee/">Annabel Lee,</a>" generally considered to be a pretty creepy poem...
Poor Ed. :(
Anyway, I'm not entirely satisfied with this. That last sentence: oh, my, it goes on FOREVER. And I'm not QUITE sure about some of the imagery....hmmm....
All comments appreciated!
"Oh, Ed: I am not Your Annabel Lee Anymore"
You have learned to move
with the silence of ghosts,
the tense noiselessness
of bricked-up walls
—shut out the night, and
shut out the night.
I, too, have changed.
I am a mausoleum,
my darling Poe—
you curl up inside me like a child.
But there is hardly anything left to hold;
all that is left of me
is a house of moth-eaten lace,
green as arsenic,
collapsing amidst purple lightning flowers,
falling wingless over cliffs
that crash like waves against a dark sea.
Written for my 100 Poem Project, for the topic "Gothic Style." I played off Edgar Allen Poe's poem "<a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/annabel-lee/">Annabel Lee,</a>" generally considered to be a pretty creepy poem...
Poor Ed. :(
Anyway, I'm not entirely satisfied with this. That last sentence: oh, my, it goes on FOREVER. And I'm not QUITE sure about some of the imagery....hmmm....
All comments appreciated!
"Oh, Ed: I am not Your Annabel Lee Anymore"
You have learned to move
with the silence of ghosts,
the tense noiselessness
of bricked-up walls
—shut out the night, and
shut out the night.
I, too, have changed.
I am a mausoleum,
my darling Poe—
you curl up inside me like a child.
But there is hardly anything left to hold;
all that is left of me
is a house of moth-eaten lace,
green as arsenic,
collapsing amidst purple lightning flowers,
falling wingless over cliffs
that crash like waves against a dark sea.
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