Poe, Poetry, and Spookiness

Last night, we watched The Possession (streaming on Netflix), as part of our 31 movies for Halloween.  It wasn’t good.  It was boring, and really a very lame version of The Exorcist.  It had an interesting concept in theory (instead of the regular Catholic demon, we had a Jewish one!) but they focused WAY too much on the family drama, to the point it became redundant.

Anyway, moving on…

Today, I’d like to share a poem by Edgar Allan Poe.  No, it’s not “The Raven,” but you really should give that a nice read because it’s so classically spooky.  In fact, read with someone else.  I personally feel like poetry should be read aloud and with others.  There’s something intimate about it.  This one is called, “Spirits of the Dead” (1827).

Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness-for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.

The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

Don’t worry, you won’t get a literary interpretation from me.  I love this poem, that’s all I’ll say.  Take what you will from it, delve into the imagery, and just have fun.

Until next time.

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