colbertimposter
Since: Dec, 1969
#3: Feb 3rd 2011 at 5:53:48 PM
Yummy!
It truly is stellar.
edited 3rd Feb '11 5:56:32 PM by colbertimposter
DaeBrayk
PI
Since: Aug, 2009
#4: Feb 4th 2011 at 5:46:56 PM
=D Glad you like it, and thanks for giving it a read!
edited 4th Feb '11 5:47:34 PM by DaeBrayk
Dealan
Since: Feb, 2010
#5: Feb 5th 2011 at 12:39:21 AM
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 .
Total posts: 5
I 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.