Happy Birthday, Edgar Allen Poe!

wonder if the mystery man put flowers and booze on his grave again?

"Since 1949, on the night of the anniversary of Poe's birth, a mysterious stranger has entered this cemetery and left as tribute a partial bottle of cognac and three roses on Poe's grave. The identity of the stranger, referred to affectionately as the Poe Toaster, is unknown. The significance of cognac is uncertain as it does not feature in Poe's works as would, for example, amontillado. The presumption for the three roses is that it represents the three persons whose remains are beneath the monument: Poe, his mother-in-law (Maria Clemm) and his wife Virginia. Out of respect, no attempt is made to stop or hinder him. Several of the bottles of cognac from prior years are on display in the Baltimore Poe House and Museum. "
 
Hopfrog is one of my favorite short stories of all time. Mr. Poe was an originator, one of the best. I hope he found peace in death, which eluded him in life.
 
Peace alludes a lot of us in life.

thinking of Poe, Mahler spent his genius life lookng for God through his works.


munk
 
A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
By E.A Poe
 
Yeah you know you look at a lot of these famous poets musicians etc. and you know, you gotta admire their genius, but you gotta feel sorry for them in a way that a lot of them despite their success they were never able to be happy.

I friend of mine sent me a birth announcement a few years ago. In it was like a pedigree sketched out of his daughter. But it just had the names of the parents, grandparents, and so on.

Of course immediately I flashed on how it resembled a pedigree on a registered goat. But on a goat's ancestors there are show wins, appraisal scores that indicate conformation and milk testing records and on some USDA numbers that indicate the genetic potential for milk.

So I'm setting there thinking if we did human pedigrees like that what would we rate them on? IQ? Many people have a high IQ but are in poverty or are crazy. Longevity? Lifetime income? But you can be rich and still be miserable.

Finally I decided that it had to be how happy a person was. This is hard to quantify I know, but surely an important thing. To be happy and to have a feeling of thankfulness for what life is.

I think to a point happiness is genetic. I see friends so unhappy and depressed. I see that their parents were the same way. I'm old enough now to see sometimes 3 generations of unhappy people. What is interesting is a lot of people that are unhappy think kids will make them complete. This works sometimes, but more often than not I have seen it just produce more unhappy people.

Religion. So many people come to it not for self understanding or even to give thanks, but thinking it will make them happy. So many prayers are spoken only when we are backed into a corner not when we are giving thanks.

So when I look at some of these famous people, I admire their genius, and appreciate their contributions, but in another way they make me feel sorry for them that they never achieved happiness and thankful that I have got to experience so much happiness in my life :)
 
that Poe may have been suffering from Hydrophobia(rabies) due to his erratic behavior during his final days. Did anything ever become of this?
Thanks
 
hollowdweller said:
...you gotta admire their genius, but you gotta feel sorry for them...despite their success they were never able to be happy...
At one time during my tumultuous youth, I thought I would grow up to be a tortured creative genius. But luckily for me, I wasn't smart enough and had no talent, nor ambition, so I decided to be happy instead.

It's worked out pretty good so far, but sometimes I wonder if I am really happy or just too dumb or crazy to realize how miserable I really am.

I don't ponder this for too long though, as I also have a short attention span.
 
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