Origin of the Raven

Unit One Offering

I thought it would be fun to try to emulate Poe's form in The Raven. The idea was to write a bit of fiction to explain the raven's origin. Poe's The Raven picks up where this poem leaves off. The overall effect is supposed to make you giggle. If you're not giggling you either didn't get it or I'm as bad a writer as I imagine. Right now it is not perfect. But it has taken me 4 hours to write and at nearly 4 a.m. my eyes are failing me. And try as I may, I cannot get it to format properly, so it appears with gaps where none should be and omits indentation where there should be. Again, the hours are so small that I become sightless. I will try and fix the poem when I get a spot of time.

Without further ado...

Origin of the Raven
by Ashli

Once upon a day so fair, a handsome figure sitting there
Ran his fingers through his hair and mulled his thinkings through.
While he penned it with delight the phrase he turned was not quite right
And yet its measure would suffice for nothing else would do-
None would be the wiser and no, nothing else would do.
No question this was true.

He held the paper in his hand and folded it on center band
Taking from off of the shelf a fluid vial of peacock blue.
With his brush of goaty hair, he filled the empty space with air
Over here and over there he added in a cloud or two-
For always writ upon the sky is a cloud or two.
It’s heaven’s white tattoo.

His nimble fingers worked the fan and added foliage to the land
And topped the earth with stones and when at last our friend was through
He stepped away from oaken table, thankful that he was so able
To capture the still image of the local tame purlieu-
His mind’s eye held the image of the local purlieu.
One thing was not askew.

Inside the room where effort poured the sun streamed in upon the floor
And tinged the space with all the golden dye it could imbue.
It permeated skin and bone and made it’s happinesses known
And of the man’s heart made a home that warmed him through and through-
He held a sweet demeanor that so easily shone through.
His just deserts were due.

When this gent was just a lad he’d towed a girl on sledding pad
Down a hill covered in snow while all the other boys pooh-pooh’d
Kindly paying no attention something too dreadful to mention
Happened when passed through a carriage drawn by horses two by two-
The equine haulers tangled up and trod upon him two by two.
No medicine would do.

Plucked from under tarantass, a night then came so long to pass
His mother sat beside his bed and guessed moments were precious few
On the floor for hours kneeling, knowing not how child was feeling
Putting every faith in God to come to her heart’s quick rescue-
Trusting, come what may, the Lord would make a quick rescue.
Thus ended son’s ague.

On a morning bright and sunny, after seven days and twenty
Parent bolted upright when she heard the "Mother, I love you."
Months thereafter he could talk alas not move a leg to walk
And thus learned early strength of mind, and patience was his virtue-
With naught but time came time to read, and patience was his virtue.
Words were food to chew.

Within his attic room above he danced with S. Vinogradov
Escaping stiffened joints and living dreams his body would subdue
Varying medium for his craft, texture and color he choreographed
In ballets performed to choruses of tu-whit and tu-whoo-
Pumpkin eyes and swivel heads sang tu-whit and tu-whoo.
Twas a fowl review.

And so time trudged on and on, until paralysis was gone
And boy was man and man was grand and found himself a new venue
An overrefined aesthetic taste prompted a choice made in haste:
Our hero asked for Maiden's hand in an ambitious billet-doux-
Put on her hand a stone for a grand as pledged in the billet-doux.
The ring was not ormolu.

Eying subject deep in thought, giving time and care to naught
But what he had in mind to sell to pay the debt that he’d accrued,
There intruded ebon mynah that he’d got one trip to China.
Echoing, this corvine bird could mirror any clerihew-
And mirror any word beside the clever clerihew;
Quite often impromptu.

Hearken back to verse and art, and find the man with prose so smart
Betwixt the paper which he crowned with crimson passe-partout
Spreading on his face so wide a smile reserve could never hide
And unabashedly kissing a pretty paper stuck with glue;-
With euphoria was kissing pretty paper stuck with glue.
This he could not overdo.

He was sure it was the one that would find obligation done,
Ease his mind, and set his spirit free to love his love anew
Thither an agent came to call; she took one look and that is all
And jumped for joy and clapped her hands in fain hullabaloo-
The debt was paid at once and the man joined the hullabaloo.
He married his ingenue.

On the day that they were wed our hero cocked his head and said
"Nevermore will I be lonely with none to regard and woo!
Nevermore!" again and again and turning to his feathered friend
He opened the cage forgetting he’d opened wide the window too.
In the excitement he didn’t remember he’d opened the window too.
And out the raven flew.