Saturday, August 22, 2009

Nevermore.

horizontal space From Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven"
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." (acrylic on wood, $19.99)
I memorized almost the entire poem for Ms Noble's 10th grade lit class almost 10 years ago. Today I mutter it when trying to keep my mind off more troubling things... like when someone is walking too close behind me as I walk from the bus stop to my house in the dark. I guess there is something about a girl reciting dark victorian era poetry that says "back off."

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