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Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

Comments about Edgar Allan Poe

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  • Amanda Marie (9/23/2013 8:13:00 PM)

    He is my all time favorite poet! If I am sad or upset about something I automatically turn to one of his amazing poems and feel better. I wish he was still alive so I could meet him

    76 person liked.
    63 person did not like.
  • Donna Clements (9/23/2013 1:22:00 PM)

    Edgar Allan Poe was a man before his time. His poetry, his writings and his life proved this to be true. Edgar may the ravens fake flight over your grave of dirt for your names sake. See you in the darkness.

  • Joaquin Santana (9/11/2013 12:32:00 AM)

    I was in either 2nd or 3rd grade when my teacher first introduced my class to the Library. The Librarian told us to all sit around her as she read The Pit and the Pendulum to us. It was so suspenseful that, from that day on, Poe became my favorite poet.

  • p.a. noushad (9/7/2013 12:09:00 AM)

    Dear Edgar Allan Poe, I like your verses very much.

  • Vineet Chhikara (5/27/2013 1:39:00 AM)

    Have a look at my poems... and rate them... i am sure you will like them.... :)

  • Lizzie Nelson (4/30/2013 7:40:00 AM)

    he is a really really good poet!

  • Chris Bellen (2/13/2013 8:05:00 AM)

    they do not have to rhyme to be poetry poetry is the heart real life live feelings dreams where u get your swagger again please do tell rap

  • Chris Bellen (2/13/2013 8:05:00 AM)

    they do not have to rhyme to be poetry poetry is the heart real life live feelings dreams where u get your swagger again please do tell rap

  • Swagger Mcjagger (1/10/2013 11:43:00 AM)

    I like how his poems have a happy mood to them but they don't rhyme and poems have to rhyme

  • Kat Wong (11/10/2012 12:53:00 PM)

    how can you not like him? his poems are amazing + he was able to suffer through a hard life w/o to many issues
    seriously guys
    PS. READ his poem ALONE

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.

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