Episode 4: Annabel Lee By Edgar Allan Poe
In this 4th episode of The Prose & Poesy Podcast, we listen to the reading of Annabel Lee By Edgar Allan, read by Ernesto Mora
This author has yet to write their bio.Meanwhile lets just say that we are proud Mora contributed a whooping 37 entries.
In this 4th episode of The Prose & Poesy Podcast, we listen to the reading of Annabel Lee By Edgar Allan, read by Ernesto Mora
In unpleasant dreams, I’ve heard you weep beneath the Umbrous willow trees the creek does mourn your shade forlorn you’ve laid your tired bones within the flow. The sun has dreamt it’s final bow, among the sullen stage so dreary now, midnight remains resolute upon your brow, the crepuscular vestige is your crown. From the […]
At night, when the fleeting dreams haunt my flesh and tear at my walls, And the waking voices hold vigil on my fantasy, it is then, cloaked in the shroud of gloom that I see where you have gone. Without regards to the fevered twilight, who bids no clemency to the maddening vision, into […]
Essentially, art is and will always be subjective. It is the uniqueness within the mysteries of our very own judgments and thought processes that allow differing interpretations of what exactly is a spectacular beauty, a true ‘piece of art’, and what we may dismiss as a failed attempt. The philosophical question remains, perhaps eternally […]
In time through the whispered years no love greater has there been the caress that wipes the tears words softly soothe the sleeved heart pinned upon the arm once so young now wiser, warmer it has become and though no longer I slumber upon your chest its still as though I grasp onto every breath
This wretched skin, shedding among the dimly lit stars, the sonata that harkens the storm, deluge of beastly origins, akin to the gloom hours that prey on fear, and among the ravenous maw, distasteful rhetoric, cursed whispers that fall on dilapidated husks, the hunger, the sinful hunger… the intent is of abysmal inspiration, hades bears […]
Your eyes have spoken such disdain amidst the berth that we have lain the silken flesh porcelain scented petals from within. The poesy without word from lips claret unfurled such passion in the midst of throe and breathless strewn among the woe. Lay we now dipped in the ink of our eyes into the pools […]
I sat one eve, on a throne of flesh and bone that with every breath from lung, agony it sung I placed my ear upon the flesh, so moving was the intonation, the cadenza of damnation I spoke into the black abyss, quandaries so noetic, in tongue so forked, duplicitous heretic And from the throne […]
On Sunday through the witching hours, the midnight mass bells tolled. Yet pews were empty and windows shuttered, no genuflection at the doors. The altar stood bare, no widowed veils, litany was not intoned, hymns did not permeate the starless night, no vicar spoke from leather tomes. And I alone in this lonely void, trepid […]
Poem Entry : Page 2 Wingless Bird Wingless bird of strife and sorrow, whose cage now doorless bids farewell, into the vast unknown venture intrepid, and behind leave ye sleepless blanket. Wingless bird of sullen eyes, such beauty in your freedom, that cage now houses days on end, a memory into memories of flight. Wingless […]