And the word is... Poe

*Please engage thick British accent in 3, 2, 1...*

Twas brought to the attention of me, that the day before today, the world as a whole forgot about poor dear Edgar Allan Poe. Tis with a great passion for this historical man that I now fry up a blog, like bacon in a pan. (I'm sorry... but I am unbelievably hungry. I reference to food was unavoidable).

At some point, we all were forced to learn about a poem or two by this, one of the original lyrical gangstas. Do you remember being afraid that a huge raven was going to swoop down and pluck you from the desk? Or that there was a lost eye looking at you... like the one doing that right now? Or have you ever heard sounds from the floorboards and wondered if it was the beating heart of a murder victim? Maybe.

But, since we all know his more famous works, here is one I had never read before:

An Enigma

      "Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce,

        "Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet.

      Through all the flimsy things we see at once

        As easily as through a Naples bonnet-

        Trash of all trash!- how can a lady don it?

      Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff-

      Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff

        Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it."

      And, veritably, Sol is right enough.

      The general tuckermanities are arrant

      Bubbles- ephemeral and so transparent-

        But this is, now- you may depend upon it-

      Stable, opaque, immortal- all by dint

      Of the dear names that he concealed within 't.

Pretty deep stuff, huh?

Also of note, by now you all know that I attend the University of Virginia. Can you guess who else did? That's right! The dear Edgar A. Poe himself! (Just a shameless plug :]) 

 One last little tidbit... when I was told that the Poe Toaster didn't show up again, making it two years in a row, I had to look it up. I had no idea what it meant. So, thanks to Wikipedia (Shhhh don't tell anyone I used Wikipedia), here is the info on the Poe Toaster, now MIA for two years running.....

Adding to the mystery surrounding Poe's death, an unknown visitor affectionately referred to as the "Poe Toaster" paid homage to Poe's grave annually beginning in 1949. As the tradition carried on for more than 60 years, it is likely that the "Poe Toaster" was actually several individuals, though the tribute was always the same. Every January 19, in the early hours of the morning, the person made a toast of cognac to Poe's original grave marker and left three roses. Members of the Edgar Allan Poe Society in Baltimore helped protect this tradition for decades. On August 15, 2007, Sam Porpora, a former historian at the Westminster Church in Baltimore where Poe is buried, claimed that he had started the tradition in the 1960s. Porpora said the claim that the tradition began in 1949 was a hoax in order to raise money and enhance the profile of the church. His story has not been confirmed, and some details he gave to the press have been pointed out as factually inaccurate. The Poe Toaster's last appearance was on January 19, 2009, the day of Poe's bicentennial.

So there it is. My humble remembrance of a poet, who, apparently, is nothing more than a faint memory. This blog may not be much, but it's my belated birthday gift to one of the greatest poets to ever pen. I don't have cognac and I don't have three roses, but I do have a blog. And this one is for Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809 – October 7, 1849).