The Maven (an expert) is a parody of Poe's The Raven with the same rhyme scheme, number of stanzas, and mystery. This maven is a teacher.
1
Once upon a midday, trying while I sat there, pensive, sighing
over many a long and tedious list of classes quite a chore
suddenly there came a clanging, as of someone loudly banging,
like a hammer's anvil hanging echoes all outside my door.
"'Tis some idiot," I muttered, "flailing flip-flops on the floor."
Thus I thought and nothing more.
2
Ah, succinctly, it's September, another year that I remember
swearing to many an old and overworked maven from years of yore.
Eagerly, I wished some ending no more notes, report card sending
broken hearts that still need mending ahh, seeing grades each weighted score,
unending flow of graded comments I posted on my chamber door.
This I pondered nothing more.
3
And the soft, near-silent shifting of the shades on shining windows
stilled me, nearly killed me with a stark suspicion never felt before
that somewhere outside lying, somewhere someone lay nearby spying.
This prompted me to whisper, "Just some student checking on his score.
Just some curious, terrified scholar seeking solace with his score."
Just his grades and nothing more."
4
My mind, inquiring, at length grew bolder, chills and fear made me grow colder
"Is someone there," I asked too softly, "someone there outside my door?
I'm sorry that, when you were knocking, I had found it all too shocking
someone might be out there blocking yes, blocking access to my door."
I heard no answer to my inquest, rose to open up the door.
None was there, not like before.
5
So I stood there, nervous, staring at the emptiness, just glaring,
clearly daring someone, something, anything living to come forth.
But, not a soul did I perceive here, no body did I e'er receive here,
the mystery gave me no relief here who might be outside my door,
left me pacing, left my heartbeat, rapid, racing as before.
These feelings are what I abhor.
6
Now, at length, I slowly waited checking careful, breath abated
who might be hiding, shyly skulking somewhere near my open door.
With careful words, I clearly uttered maybe stifled, sort of muttered,
"Who lingers lurking in the shadows? Show yourself unlike before.
I'm warning you, I shall not quit until each option I explore."
This I said and nothing more.
7
From window-side there came a whistle, like a wind blown through a thistle,
rustling, bustling whirlwind bursts like small tornadoes' raucous roar
then the shaking and the quaking from both the windows and the door
compelled my racing, forced my facing what was there but not before.
Footsteps rumbled as I stumbled clumsily tumbling towards the door
grumbling threats as once before.
8
At once I oped the door with passion, flung it wide unlike my fashion
expecting there some beast or ghastly ghost of someone gone before.
Instead, encloaked in dark attire not to note if lass or sire
stood hidden, hooded waiting, baiting me to ask for something more.
Thus, I started lips were parted words were forming as before.
I recalled then Poe's Lenore.
9
I asked what one I was addressing, thought this, too, to be distressing
to discover what or why this one was garbed like woeful whore
when to my eyes, my mind discovered, that this being merely hovered
like a body's soul recovered just a bit above the floor.
Then I thought this could not be mistaken vision to be sure.
Thus, at last my mind foreswore.
10
Amazingly, I grew much nearer, hoping for a view much clearer
if this saint or demon peering might truly float above the floor.
"Are you some person here appearing or spirit that I should be fearing
draped in black like reaper's shade just standing near my classroom door?
Or is your being just a figment, some dark pigment near my door?"
This I questioned nothing more.
11
But the silence from this being, sightless secrets, quiet, fleeting
ne'er emitted from the lips of this strange being heartless core.
"What name defines thy self so hidden; harken to my words thus bidden,"
roared out these sounds from deep within, a flood they did outpour
poured out on ears unseen, blind eyes, on him or her, unsure.
This I said and nothing more.
12
With one swift gesture, sudden motion, not a thought, instinctive notion,
open wide, thrust out the cloak and hood, uncovered she a golden store
of flowing locks, tight, downward flowing, lovely curls, to bust line going,
resting tenuously, timid, tightly clinging to her contoured shore.
My eyes could not conceive more captive curves than this one co-ed bore.
Not just these but something more.
13
Beneath those locks inlaid in milky white, like offset diamonds, piercing, bright,
her eagle eyes caught something far, unsure sought some untapped rapport.
This much I saw in my first viewing, then saw much more each time renewing
what so enthralled what so much thrilled my senses, all, galore.
I could not help but want to know the who or what as the wherefore.
Only those and nothing more.
14
At length my mind perceived some essence, like some spiritual presence
emanating from this devil or this angelic beast of yore.
"Stop!" I shouted as I drew near it, addressing loudly this dark spirit,
although I felt I did not fear it, did never dread its dark decor.
"Explain your presence or your duty, beauty passing through my door."
Silence followed "Nevermore!"
15
She turned to me at once enraptured with her eyes my soul she captured,
left my defenses turned to ashes by the mien that she bore
o'errturned my senses, inhibitions, rebuked indeed all those conditions
that denied how oft renditions of ghosts and demons came before.
Those ghastly ghosts and goblins gone with just one look, no more.
Her bright eyes said, "Look some more."
16
That I did with greatest pleasure, as if looking for a treasure,
eyes that gleamed like sunbeams glistening shining on a sandy shore.
I looked also upon lips parting, words that seemed to be just starting,
invocations, prayers imparting some unnerving words of yore.
But no sound nor whisper ventured from this spirit-like amour.
Not a sound for evermore.
17
My heart gave up its pleading, chanting mind gave up its worthless ranting,
despite my constant efforts to contact this spirit I adore.
My arms reach out not to Poe's Raven, nor to some outlandish craven,
but from me, an English maven, not seeking to make her a score,
not even trying, nor denying that she is one whom I adore.
Only that and nothing more.
18
At once this being took to fleeing, from my sight, no more be seeing
this blithe being standing there this mirthful essence reaching for
whate'er my lonely soul had bidden what this spirit so apt kept hidden
from my heart which she had ridden as if spirits on the Elysian shore
as if begone into the heavenly regions that the gods explore.
Thus, I saw her nevermore.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 1165 times
Written on 2006-12-10 at 18:34
Tags Parody Mystery Fun
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
The Maven
1
Once upon a midday, trying while I sat there, pensive, sighing
over many a long and tedious list of classes quite a chore
suddenly there came a clanging, as of someone loudly banging,
like a hammer's anvil hanging echoes all outside my door.
"'Tis some idiot," I muttered, "flailing flip-flops on the floor."
Thus I thought and nothing more.
2
Ah, succinctly, it's September, another year that I remember
swearing to many an old and overworked maven from years of yore.
Eagerly, I wished some ending no more notes, report card sending
broken hearts that still need mending ahh, seeing grades each weighted score,
unending flow of graded comments I posted on my chamber door.
This I pondered nothing more.
3
And the soft, near-silent shifting of the shades on shining windows
stilled me, nearly killed me with a stark suspicion never felt before
that somewhere outside lying, somewhere someone lay nearby spying.
This prompted me to whisper, "Just some student checking on his score.
Just some curious, terrified scholar seeking solace with his score."
Just his grades and nothing more."
4
My mind, inquiring, at length grew bolder, chills and fear made me grow colder
"Is someone there," I asked too softly, "someone there outside my door?
I'm sorry that, when you were knocking, I had found it all too shocking
someone might be out there blocking yes, blocking access to my door."
I heard no answer to my inquest, rose to open up the door.
None was there, not like before.
5
So I stood there, nervous, staring at the emptiness, just glaring,
clearly daring someone, something, anything living to come forth.
But, not a soul did I perceive here, no body did I e'er receive here,
the mystery gave me no relief here who might be outside my door,
left me pacing, left my heartbeat, rapid, racing as before.
These feelings are what I abhor.
6
Now, at length, I slowly waited checking careful, breath abated
who might be hiding, shyly skulking somewhere near my open door.
With careful words, I clearly uttered maybe stifled, sort of muttered,
"Who lingers lurking in the shadows? Show yourself unlike before.
I'm warning you, I shall not quit until each option I explore."
This I said and nothing more.
7
From window-side there came a whistle, like a wind blown through a thistle,
rustling, bustling whirlwind bursts like small tornadoes' raucous roar
then the shaking and the quaking from both the windows and the door
compelled my racing, forced my facing what was there but not before.
Footsteps rumbled as I stumbled clumsily tumbling towards the door
grumbling threats as once before.
8
At once I oped the door with passion, flung it wide unlike my fashion
expecting there some beast or ghastly ghost of someone gone before.
Instead, encloaked in dark attire not to note if lass or sire
stood hidden, hooded waiting, baiting me to ask for something more.
Thus, I started lips were parted words were forming as before.
I recalled then Poe's Lenore.
9
I asked what one I was addressing, thought this, too, to be distressing
to discover what or why this one was garbed like woeful whore
when to my eyes, my mind discovered, that this being merely hovered
like a body's soul recovered just a bit above the floor.
Then I thought this could not be mistaken vision to be sure.
Thus, at last my mind foreswore.
10
Amazingly, I grew much nearer, hoping for a view much clearer
if this saint or demon peering might truly float above the floor.
"Are you some person here appearing or spirit that I should be fearing
draped in black like reaper's shade just standing near my classroom door?
Or is your being just a figment, some dark pigment near my door?"
This I questioned nothing more.
11
But the silence from this being, sightless secrets, quiet, fleeting
ne'er emitted from the lips of this strange being heartless core.
"What name defines thy self so hidden; harken to my words thus bidden,"
roared out these sounds from deep within, a flood they did outpour
poured out on ears unseen, blind eyes, on him or her, unsure.
This I said and nothing more.
12
With one swift gesture, sudden motion, not a thought, instinctive notion,
open wide, thrust out the cloak and hood, uncovered she a golden store
of flowing locks, tight, downward flowing, lovely curls, to bust line going,
resting tenuously, timid, tightly clinging to her contoured shore.
My eyes could not conceive more captive curves than this one co-ed bore.
Not just these but something more.
13
Beneath those locks inlaid in milky white, like offset diamonds, piercing, bright,
her eagle eyes caught something far, unsure sought some untapped rapport.
This much I saw in my first viewing, then saw much more each time renewing
what so enthralled what so much thrilled my senses, all, galore.
I could not help but want to know the who or what as the wherefore.
Only those and nothing more.
14
At length my mind perceived some essence, like some spiritual presence
emanating from this devil or this angelic beast of yore.
"Stop!" I shouted as I drew near it, addressing loudly this dark spirit,
although I felt I did not fear it, did never dread its dark decor.
"Explain your presence or your duty, beauty passing through my door."
Silence followed "Nevermore!"
15
She turned to me at once enraptured with her eyes my soul she captured,
left my defenses turned to ashes by the mien that she bore
o'errturned my senses, inhibitions, rebuked indeed all those conditions
that denied how oft renditions of ghosts and demons came before.
Those ghastly ghosts and goblins gone with just one look, no more.
Her bright eyes said, "Look some more."
16
That I did with greatest pleasure, as if looking for a treasure,
eyes that gleamed like sunbeams glistening shining on a sandy shore.
I looked also upon lips parting, words that seemed to be just starting,
invocations, prayers imparting some unnerving words of yore.
But no sound nor whisper ventured from this spirit-like amour.
Not a sound for evermore.
17
My heart gave up its pleading, chanting mind gave up its worthless ranting,
despite my constant efforts to contact this spirit I adore.
My arms reach out not to Poe's Raven, nor to some outlandish craven,
but from me, an English maven, not seeking to make her a score,
not even trying, nor denying that she is one whom I adore.
Only that and nothing more.
18
At once this being took to fleeing, from my sight, no more be seeing
this blithe being standing there this mirthful essence reaching for
whate'er my lonely soul had bidden what this spirit so apt kept hidden
from my heart which she had ridden as if spirits on the Elysian shore
as if begone into the heavenly regions that the gods explore.
Thus, I saw her nevermore.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 1165 times
Written on 2006-12-10 at 18:34
Tags Parody Mystery Fun
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Esti D-G |
|
|
Esti D-G |
