All tagged Edgar Allen Poe

Recommendation Tuesday: Edgar Allen Poe's Spirits of the Dead by Richard Corben

Recommendation Tuesday started as a joke and is now an official thing. Basically, this is my way of making Tuesday a little more awesome. If you've got a book to recommend on this or any Tuesday, tweet me at @FullShelves and I'll help spread the word.

View all of the past recommendations over here. 

Richard Corben captures the gothic sensibility and the fears that plagued Edgar Allan Poe in his graphic representation of the great master’s work. Poe’s soulful poem Spirits of the Dead is a fitting title for Corben’s work. 

Thy soul shall find itself alone
        Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone ——
            Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
                 Into thine hour of secrecy.

I Love... Poetry

The beauty of words weaving themselves into verse, into poetry, has always been a treasure in my life, an essential part of who I am.

There’s good reason for this. The wonder of language formed around me naturally, an essential part of growing up. The following are my memories how how the joy of poetry eased its way into my my life.

Robert Burns 'Holy Willie's Prayer' - Pages 1 & 2

Evening wrapped itself around our campsite, the fire crackled and the s’mores dripped like warm icicles from our fingers. A day of leaping about the sand dunes and the folding of ocean waves one upon another settled upon my cousins, my sister and myself. It was at the perfect moment, orchestrated by the ambiance surrounding us that my aunt would begin to speak.

The words rolled from her heart to her lips weaving its magical spell.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

    By the men who moil for gold;

The  Arctic trails have their secret tales

    That would make your blood run cold:

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

    But the queerest they ever did see

Was the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

    I cremated Sam McGee.

We five young children huddled about the fire hearing crickets chirping in the background with the sound of the Pacific and the heat of the summer sun upon still us, listened to the tale in rapt silence. Ah, The Cremation of Sam McGee, the chill of the Arctic and then to the final words of the verse.