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ThothLestat's Journal


ThothLestat's Journal

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3 entries this month
 

poems

19:32 Oct 21 2007
Times Read: 787


no, i cannot write my own poetry.

every attempt is disappointing.

the things i write are disjointed, dark, and ugly.

i find the words of others to be superior.


COMMENTS

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VampireQueen01
VampireQueen01
17:00 Jul 23 2008

hey..my poetry is dark but ppl still seem to like it





Dragonrouge
Dragonrouge
01:38 Aug 31 2008

let us be the judges

you seem a generos person

please share the poetry also

just like the photographs





CelestiaNocturne
CelestiaNocturne
02:18 Oct 20 2008

I agree, I set out to write poems but I end up with stories. Meh.





DyingRose20
DyingRose20
15:55 May 12 2009

Very intruguing.





S0RVENA
S0RVENA
16:58 May 12 2009

I don't write poetry nearly as much as i used to but there are some i like the outcome better than others. I have a book of other poets erm poetry lol and some of them leave me saying...whaaa? but yet, they're famous! lol Give it a whirl! :D





 

annabel lee

03:27 Oct 20 2007
Times Read: 792


It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.



I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea;

But we loved with a love that was more than love-

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.



And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsman came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.



The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went envying her and me-

Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.



But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we-

Of many far wiser than we-

And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.



For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,

In the sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.



edgar allen poe

one of my faves


COMMENTS

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HunterAja
HunterAja
03:15 Apr 16 2008

I love Poe - I had forgotten how lovely this is - thank you





Menagerie
Menagerie
22:53 Apr 25 2008

this use to be my fav. Poe Poem.



My favorite Poe line however is, "And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before."



good stuff, good stuff.




SeleneTremere
SeleneTremere
21:07 May 22 2008

It's been ages since I've seen this. I really am not big on poetry, I dont' write it, I rarely read it, I never search for it....but this one stayed with me for some reason.



Thanks for the memories.





BlueEmerald
BlueEmerald
20:34 Jan 12 2009

oooo this is a very good one by him





KamarillaKaine
KamarillaKaine
06:29 Mar 18 2009

hard to beat Poe :)





VampTWI
VampTWI
15:04 Apr 19 2009

This was great! I love poe.... sounds cliche' but I do!





jazmanflash
jazmanflash
01:29 May 14 2009

Jazmanflash...aka lee...liking thee...xjmf.





 

london

03:38 Oct 16 2007
Times Read: 798


I wander through each chartered street,

Near where the chartered Thames does flow,

And mark in every face I meet,

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.



In every cry of every man,

In every infant's cry of fear,

In every voice, in every ban,

The mind-forged manacles I hear:



How the chimney-sweeper's cry

Every blackening church appals,

And the hapless soldier's sigh

Runs in blood down palace-walls.



But most, through midnight streets I hear

How the youthful harlot's curse

Blasts the new-born infant's tear,

And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.

-- william blake


COMMENTS

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