A Poe Introspection...

I don't know whether you've heard, but it finally happened...
Last night I was sitting at home, sometime just after midnight. A sound came from outdoors as I was changing clothes following a long night of punching babies in and around my community.
I finished dressing, strapped on a viking helmet and glided elegantly to the door.
As I stood, tall and strapping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor." I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.".
So I peered out the peephole, and cried out, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was crapping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you.", here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
I thought aloud, "What the blue Hell is this? Some foolish neighbor children attempting to draw my ire?".
So, I did the safe thing and reached behind my door and pulled out my rifle. I fired several shots into the darkness and listened between each one for wounded screaming, but it never came...
Now I was puzzled to say the least. Who could this fool be that had knocked on my door? What manner of nonsense is this?
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more.
Now I was just getting irate! Everybody knows from here to the Missouri/Arkansas border that I have only ONE rule! One very simple rule. That rule being, never, and I mean NEVER(!) stand outside my home and say the name "Lenore"!
Reparations of the situation must be made. This will not do. Not at all!
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
"What can I do to stop this foolishness?!", I queried aloud. "If I find out who's makin' all this racket, I'm gonna give 'em a colonic irrigation with the aid of a bottle of Scotch and a garden rake!".
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Jehovah's Witness of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
I just stood, completely beside myself. "What in theeee devil do you think you're doing?!", I demanded of the missionary. "Get off of my bust of Pallas! Do you have any idea how much that thing's worth?!!".
Then this pushy fellow beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and lost soul savin' wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
I stood, perplexed. It didn't take long before I lost interest in the mumblings of this Jehovah's Witness, and instead went and prepared a lovely sandwich. A sandwich which I greatly enjoyed with a tall glass of ice cold milk.
Once I'd finished, I couldn't help but Moonwalk back into the living room pondering, "Nevermore? What could this mean?".
But the Jehovah's Witness, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the dude said, "Nevermore.".
It was then that I received a phone call from Ringo asking if I'd like to reform the Beatles. I politely declined...
So, I sat down in my big poofy chair and got back to the task at hand.
There I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the guy whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
"This is making me tired...", I complained as I spun around in my chair while looking at the ceiling.
By this point I was pretty sure that all I would be able to do was wrap this guy in a rug and beat him with a sack of drunk kittens. But where would I find a place at this hour willing to sell alcohol to baby cats?
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if dude or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!".
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if dude or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?".
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
I was getting nowhere with this. So, I did what I usually do in such situations. I kicked a crippled puppy.
I then yelled back at my unwelcome friend!
"Be that word our sign of parting, fool or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no monthly publication as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy judging words from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
And the dork, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
"No wait!", I rationalized. "Screw this!".
Then I stripped down to my underpants and defeated the Jehovah's Witness in a karate duel. Afterwards, he left.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...