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“I think Poe's quite good, actually. The whole casual horror thing. Like someone standing next to you and screaming their head off and you asking them what the fuck and them stopping for a moment to say 'Oh you know, I'm just afraid of death' and then they keep on with the screaming.”
― Helen Oyeyemi, White Is for Witching

“I Dwelt alone
In a world of moan,
And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride
Ah, less-less bright
The stars of night
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
And never a flake
That the vapor can make
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl-
Can vie compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl

Now Doubt-now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
And all day long
Shine, bright and strong,
Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.”
― Edgar Allen Poe

“Poe isn’t for everyone. He’s too heady a draught for that. He may not be for you. But there are secrets to appreciating Poe, and I shall let you in on one of the most important ones: read him aloud”
― Neil Gaiman

“While doing an enquiry on renowned horror author, “Edgar Allen Poeâ€� I was astonished to notice how more successful his biographical books sold compared to his own books.”
― Chris Mentillo

“The Poe Toaster by Stewart Stafford

They call me The Poe Toaster,
A sixty-year mourner, no boaster,
With roses and cognac, I paid homage,
To gothic Quarles� eternal foggage.

Some call me ghoul, stalker, graver,
Obsessed fan, tombstone trader,
Let him sleep unbroken, still his ghost,
Tomahawk, overdue a tribute toast.

Three roses; in-law, Eddy and wife,
Cognac, exorbitant luxury in life,
Relax, for I was kind, my friend,
Pouring amontillado until the end.

Why I stopped, if I'm woman or man,
Are mysteries for C. Auguste Dupin,
Shipwrecked on Night’s Plutonian shore,
Allied with the silken darkness of yore.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“What do you think of Poe?"

"He's awful. He was obviously . . . what's the term . . . 'disappointed in love' at some point. He probably never smiled again. The pages are just bursting with his longing for women to suffer. If he ever met me he'd probably punch me on the nose."

"I think Poe's quite good, actually. The whole casual horror thing. Like someone standing next to you and screaming their head off and you asking them what the fuck and them stopping for a moment to say 'Oh you know, I'm just afraid of Death' and then they keep on with the screaming.”
― Helen Oyeyemi, White Is for Witching

“Death Demands A Recount by Stewart Stafford

The premature burial bell rings,
The body six feet below is alive,
Purgatory's choking siren fades,
Only darkness hears the bell peal.

Even if some listeners reacted,
A creeping terror stops them,
And dodging a vampire's bite,
Or the zombie’s flailing attack.

No, let the restless corpse lie,
Tighten the Reaper's icy grip,
Silence stills a memorial plot,
A blackout hush, no reprieve.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford