The Raven
This is pretty much what it looks like - a pornographic, furrified version of Poe's 'The Raven'. Been thinking about it for a while, but I ended up writing it in about a day. In other words, this did not supersede the other stuff I'm working on. I don't write much poetry, and obviously I don't pretend that this is nearly as good as the original, but I hope I've done him some degree of justice. As usual, reviews are enormously appreciated.
Just to clarify: I really don't want anyone to think I'm making fun of Poe here. I adore his stuff - this is a tribue to him. A tribute he probably wouldn't care for, sure, but the sentiment is there.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over Poe's trochaic lamentation for a lost l'amour, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the ravishing and revelrous raven whom the angels name Lenore - Nameless here for evermore.
And the sumptuous silken flail of each glistening black window veil Brought to mind the sensuous motions of my ebony-feathered Lenore So that, to still my blood's hot pacing, to cease my mind's perverted racing I turned my thoughts back to the rapping 'pon my chamber door ''Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - This it is, and nothing more,'
Gathering my thoughts together, my mind, at last, I did untether From endless pining for the feathered flesh of my Lenore And stepping forward, stiffly, slowly, crying out 'By all that's holy,' And cursing in the names of a hundred pagan gods of yore 'What could it be at this hour?' - here I opened wide the door - And stared, aghast, at what I saw.
A raven girl of beauteous glory stood in the darkened hall before me Naked as the day God made her; naught but a grin she wore And through that murky, starless midnight, her feathers glistened in the firelight Glistened a shade of ebony I had not seen since long before And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, 'Lenore!' This I whispered, nothing more.
The raven, steadily and slow, stepped into my chamber's glow The light now playing across her body brighter than before I knew full well those glinting eyes, those curvaceous breasts and feathery thighs Those hips that swayed with that familiar hypnotic allure And stumbling back, very nearly did I fall faint upon the floor And quoth she: 'I am Lenore'
And passionately bellowed I 'Away from me, ye spectre! Fly, foul mockery of the woman whom I did once adore!' But, with a smirk upon her face, she stood unwavering in place As, slowly, she extended t'ward me her sharp and spindly claw And 'round my groin she wrapped the bony fingers of her claw And quoth again: 'I am Lenore'
I felt the blood rush to my phallus, while a pallid bust of Pallas Smirked down merrily upon us from above my chamber door And the raven's grip did slowly tighten, while the goddess and the Titan Grinned at me and at this apparition so like my Lenore And slowly, shakily, uncertainly, I extend out my paw Toward this spectre of Lenore
I ran my fingers o'er the hump of her broad and shapely rump Warm and downy with that feathered texture I knew from long before I felt along the supple crests of her ample, silken breasts And o'er her belly, slightly swollen with the child she never bore And with her dark eyes fixed upon me, quoth she again: 'I am Lenore'. This she whispered, nothing more.
And finding myself quite unable to hold my mind or body stable I grasped her hips and carried her to the table by the door I stared into her gleaming eyes as she wrapped her legs about my thighs And I stripped my clothes away and flung them to the floor And with my arms wrapped tight about this spectre of Lenore I whispered 'Leave me nevermore.'
And at that moment, the December winds blew out the dying embers And darkness swallowed up the room as the breeze pulled shut the door And 'neath me, the tabletop was bare; cold and stark, nothing there And out into the darkened room I cried her name: 'Lenore!' This I cried out, and an echo chimed off ceiling, wall and floor Merely this, and nothing more.
Across the room I gauchely stumbled, and across the wall I blindly fumbled Fumbled for the handle of my shuttered chamber door And finding it at long, long last, I flung the door wide open fast And bellowed out her name into the hall beyond: 'Lenore!' And as the echo murmured back, I stared beyond the door - Darkness there, and nothing more.