The dark, melancholic storyteller

Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) was an american author and a poet.

As a two-year old Poe lost both his parents and was adopted by John Allan, a rich businessman in Richmond, and his wife. Poe adopted John Allan’s middle name, but kept his biological parents’ last name.

Poe stayed a couple of years at theRichmondAcademyand was send to the University of Virginia after that. After one year John Allan refused to give Poe more money – probably because of Poe’s gambling problem. When John Allan died in 1834 was Poe left without any heritage.

Poe’s debut came in 1827 with the poetry collection “Tamerlame”. In 1831 he published a greater collection called “Poems”. In the middle of 1830, Poe was known as an established novelist, critic of literature and a successful editor. At the same time he got married to his 13-year old cousin Virginia.  Their marriage didn’t last long.Virginia died of tuberculosis in 1847 – this and problems with alcohol affected Poe strongly, and his already weak health became worse.

Virginia’s death is, as a lot more in Poe’s life, a history surrounded by myths.

Poe mostly wrote about beauty and death with a melancholic tone, and is also filled with a musical rhythm – “The Philosophy of Composition” (1846) is all about this.

Besides of all Poe’s classic poems is his detective stories and horror stories the source of inspiration and germinal to the whole horror-world. Many of his works have been used as foundations to a lot of movies and cartoons.




The Corset

Grab these laces and pull a little tighter
until you hear my ribs crush
under the delicate fabric of this corset
scarlet red,decorated with ash.

I suffocate but I cannot show it
just breathe less.
No time to vomit, it’s almost midnight
dying under beauty’s cold caress.

Yes, keep pulling!
I don’t want to look fat.
Yes! Until my body is broken.
skin and bone and add makeup to that.

Paint in these vivid colors my face
make me look divine.
lips of blood and cheeks of pink
another sacrifice to Aphrodite’s shrine.

My transformer, my corset
tie me and start my rebirth
they say that beauty requires pain,
power, no soul and wealth.

You don’t have to feel
Be meat, raw and cold
Realise your fear
and you shall never grow old

I’m sorry I’ve been so bad with updatings here! Hope you’ll enjoy this little poem, and don’t forget to check this blog in the week-end… I’m planning to write about a very special man then 😉



Published in: on March 24, 2011 at 18:49  Leave a Comment  
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