Discussion: What's Your Favorite "Poe-esque" Poem or Short Story?

The introduction and first edition of a new community discussion segment, where topics differ each week.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Dear Readers,

Come. Join us. Look outside and tell us what you see. Is it the dawning of a new weekly post? It seems that way to me, however— hm. Sorry, going off script there.

Today we’re posing to ask a deeply enthralling question: What is your favorite “Poe-esque” poem or short story? This can be a piece written by Poe, or perhaps one inspired by his writings.

Let it rest, settled to brew inside your mind. What is it about this piece that speaks out to you? Is it the style itself, or perhaps the message behind it? How does it make you feel?

Photo by Mitchell Luo on Unsplash

There’s many pieces to choose from, so maybe I should put out my own pick to help inspire you. Or rather, put it down below for you to read:

The Haunted Palace
By Edgar Allan Poe

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace—
Radiant palace—reared its head.
In the monarch Thought’s dominion,
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow
(This—all this—was in the olden
Time long ago)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A wingèd odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically
To a lute’s well-tunèd law,
Round about a throne where, sitting,
Porphyrogene!
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch’s high estate;
(Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him, desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh—but smile no more.

I discovered this one as I was doing research for this post. So it is indeed new to me, but it reminded me of a piece I wrote myself. And the mystery of the haunted palace felt incredibly compelling as a narrative piece.

However, I do not wish to ramble, so let me turn this table to you. Have you thought about your piece? Don’t tell me what it is, or why. Instead, tell the community, and share in the discourse. We’ll be expecting it.