I rarely read poems, but because this is Edgar Allan Poe (happy birthday, mate), I knew I had to read this. He really is a master of words. I found his subject in poems almost as fascinating as some of his short stories.

These are my favorites:
The Raven (of course, duh), Spirits of the Dead, Annabel Lee, For Annie, and The Bells (this one's really fun to read aloud).

What a joy to revisit the poems of Edgar Allan Poe with a group of readers who brought to them thoughts and ideas that enhanced the reading. I love Poe's grasp of mythology, his use of rhyme and rhythm, alliteration, and, yes, even his morose musings. He seems to me to lay a tortured soul in front of us and ask, "What would you do with this? What could you do with it, but mourn?"

I have written individual reviews for The Raven, The Bells and Annabel Lee. I will not revisit them here, but I would like to speak to some of the lesser known poems that touched a chord with me.

To Annie:
And the fever called "Living"
Is conquered at last.

Poe sees life as so much torture and death as a release. And, death is portrayed as an illusion. The onlookers think he is "dead", but he is really in the arms of the woman he loved and lost. And...

And ah! let it never
Be foolishly said
That my room it is gloomy
And narrow my bed;
For man never slept
In a different bed—
And, to sleep, you must slumber
In just such a bed.

So, death is inevitable and there is no rest in life...to slumber you must die. It will come to all of us, and he seems to say that while it might look gloomy or confining or sad, it is not. It is simply a release from this world's toil and it is not just his lot, but that of every man.

Alone:
And all I lov'd--I lov'd alone.
I thought this one of the most moving of the poems. There is a real sense of angst in his recognition that he sees the world differently than others and that they cannot understand what is beneath his surface, in his mind. Even his loves cannot be shared or understood by others. They see fluffy clouds, he sees demons in the sky. He cannot explain why the world is darker to him, but he knows that his view separates him from humanity at large.

To Science:
I took this to be more about reality vs. creativity (imagination) than science literally. He cannot help reality imposing itself upon him, and truth destroys the comfort of myth. With science, he must face death as a reality; with myth, he can imagine that he is still able to hold and share the world of his beloved. I thought about Eden--after all, we humans lost Eden because Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge.

And finally,
Dream Within a Dream
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

The ultimate question (especially for Poe), "what is reality?" If hope has flown in a dream or vision is it less gone? Good question. If we feel something deeply, is it not real for us? How do we distinguish between what is and what was and what might be? If we wake on the morning after the loss of someone we love and believe we feel the weight of their body in the bed, can they have been there for that moment? Are there two worlds, ours and theirs, and can we bridge the two? And if there are two worlds, which of them is real...are they the dream, or are we?

There were several of the poems that just left me flat and did not speak to me at all, but for the most part I love his ability to tap into his sorrow and isolation and see his poems as an attempt to connect and reveal himself. He challenges our intellect, makes us ask questions, and what more can a poem do than that? I hope in death he was indeed folded into the arms of his Virginia or granted the gentle sleep that eluded him in life. There is no writer ever whose life and work were more intertwined.

What does one say about Poe's poetry besides that it's wonderful? The feelings conveyed, the little word games, the deep denseness of The Raven or Tamerlane...

Another thing I need to shout out though, is the translation of my copy. It's exceptional, and so is the foreword and the afterword (including one of Virginia Poe's poems, too!). I remember begging my mother for this book as a 14 year old and boy has it paid for itself considering the countless times I've reread it since. Truly one of my favourite possessions.

I think I would've enjoyed this a bit more if I had read it instead of listened to it, or if the narrator had been a different one.
Still beautifully dark and atmospheric though.

These poems are the reason I'm intro poetry tbh

As a self-proclaimed (albeit a bit hypocritical) Edgar Allen Poe Lover, I HAD to read this and see if my theoretical love holds up.
And the verdict is......
it did!

El cuervo siempre va a ser mi cosa favorita de este autor, lo quise releer y me encontré que mi versión de iBooks venía con sus poemas, no se nada de poesía o algo por el estilo pero hubo muchos que me gustaron, so... I finished

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

I don’t normally read books of poetry, but I needed to read one with at least 24 poems for a book challenge. So, inspired by the Halloween season, I read this book of poems, which very fortunately has 26 poems.

I absolutely adore Edgar Allan Poe's work, both in prose as well as poetry and this poem collection was no exception. The atmosphere that creeps through the entire book is mystic and mesmerizing, giving off that classic Poe vibe. No offense, but all those Rupi Kaur fans could really stand to read this.

I didn't like this book one because I don't like poems and second the plot lines for the poems were all mixed up and confusing.

Edgar Allen Poe was my first love as a emo high school goth, thick with black eyeliner and heavy stares, convinced my deep green eyes saw the world deeper and more completely than any of my peers. In other words, High Goth, standard cookie-cut-individualism. I still wear black eyeliner, it's the one habit I've never been able to break. Musically, I highly recommend Alan Parson's "Tales of Mystery and Imagination" as an excellent companion piece. Favorite tales of mine were "Dr. Tarr and Professor Feather," "The Raven," and the one about his lost love, "Annabel Lee."

Surprisingly enough, I really liked this. Annabel Lee still is my favorite, too many Lady Midnight feels :))