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A Poe Emulation:
PII decided to turn The Telltale Heart into a Poe-emulation poem. Thoughts/Critiques much appreciated. The Telltale Heart You could not have called it passion. Without fanfare, without fashion did I endeavor to conclude the old man’s stay on mortal earth. Not for money. Not for pleasure. Not for any petty treasure. ‘Twas the old man’s vulture eye which gave my crime it’s tempting worth. It was this eye, this hated eye, a filmy milky staring blue like so much emptiness and coldness in a reeking swirling rue Slowly louder grew the noises, some from heaven, most from hell And his gaze began to haunt me like an ever-tolling bell Long in coming was a murder, for my hatred built up slow, But the old man and his eye It had to die It had to die yes that old filmy vulture eye would have to go. I did it slow, I planned my crime No lunatic would take such time For several nights I took a lantern to his chamber in the night but in his sleep there was no staring Just an old man, kind and caring Nothing tempted me to murder, nothing stalled my guilty flight Still every midnight found me waiting for each daylight I spent hating Until at last the man was wakened by my stealthy shadow’s creep. In his deformity my lantern burned his heavy bed I overturned The mattress closed his filmy eye and crushed him back to sleep. It was not quick though, and not easy I’ll admit myself right queasy as a strange and steady throbbing seeped up to me through the floor. Like a drumbeat long forgotten like a ticking wrapped in cotton But the mattress did its job in time, the old heart beat no more. After that my plan was clean I simply wedged the corpse between The floorboards and the ceiling of the room that came below. My demeanor gave no warning to the cops that came that morning. I was smiling, I was happy, of my crimes you’d never know, but those damned cops lingered long The air felt thick, the clock ticked wrong And in a second that took days I knew there was no clock in sight. As the meeting dragged on longer and the ticking noise grew stronger and I knew that was no ticking, but the throbbing I had ended in the night. Like a drumbeat long forgotten like a ticking wrapped in cotton When I shouted over the din I knew my sins I must impart. “I confess it, villains, hear and heed as I admit the wretched deed Now tear away the planks and stay the beating of his heart!” But never the heart will silent lie for never the memories shall die and every night I dream I dream a filmy vulture eye.
Yummy! It truly is stellar.
edited 3rd Feb '11 5:56:32 PM by colbertimposter
PI=D Glad you like it, and thanks for giving it a read!
edited 4th Feb '11 5:47:34 PM by DaeBrayk
I liked it very much, though to be honest, I'd like any poem that rhymes. But yeah, that was awesome. It's somewhat less clear than the story, so someone unfamiliar with it may be a little confused, but I don't think it's a serious problem, this being a poem and all .
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Total posts: 5
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