Is imagination now a felony?

My main man Wendell, over at Dell on Movies,
is hosting a blogathon, with an idea rather groovy.

It's all about poetry, so I thought I'd give it a go,
I found a horror flick, about Edgar Allen Poe.

Featuring Lloyd Dobler, with a face that's unshaven,
I fired up Netflix, to experience The Raven.

Read on if you must, though this post might bore ya.
but participate you should, it might be good for ya..

Set in the last week, of Poe's cut-short life,
we see the young author mired in strife.
He's back in Baltimore, his old neighborhood,
but despite being famous, not much else is good.
Poe is a drunk, his career has hit a wall,
But he has a sexy girl, to take to a ball.
Their relationship is solid, and they plan to wed,
but a killer is loose, and bitches be dead.
In addition to murder, this guy's a real jerk,
his outline for the killings? Is all of Poe's work.
The inspector is rattled, and utterly clueless,
So Poe has no choice, he's got to do this.
Time's running out, and he's taken Poe's lady,
this well-read nutcase, is all kinds of shady.

To say anymore, might be bad luck,
but this movie was shocking, in that it didn't suck.
Poe's character was endearing, and rather well-written,
and the girl who played Emily? Consider me smitten.
It's a little bit Misery, with equal parts Saw,
combine that with history, and there's hardly a flaw.
Clearly that's overselling it, 'cause perfect it ain't,
But I thought it would stink, like a dead poet's taint.

Fidelio.

Even more awful, are the Yays and the Boos,
our quest to keep rhyming, we're likely to lose.
I could drop the poetry, or at least try to duck it,
but it's National Poetry Month, so never mind, f--k it.

Yaaaaaaaaaaay!

It's stupid and obvious, but I wasn't ready,

to hear Edgar Allen Poe, referred to as Eddie.

Though I'm sure it took months, or years to set up,

I liked the device, that cut that fat f--ker up.

Evans, mere seconds before full werewolf transformation.

I'll check Wikipedia, just not too soon,

but according to this, Poe had a raccoon?

Annabel Lee, just might be Poe's best poem yet,

and when Emily recites it, she gets totally...happy.

For an idea damned near destined to lose green,

the production is impressive and needs to be seen.

Like in Eyes Wide Shut, minus the kinky bits, 

the dance at the ball, was totally tits.

Dude, the invitation said bring whores.

Don't shoot the messenger, is always fun to say,

but actually seeing him shot? I'll take that any day.

Evans plays the inspector, and does so quite well,

though at times sounds like Batman (what the Hell?)

Poe is a suspect, and his house set ablaze,

luckily his raccoon gets out, or I'd have been crying for days.

Being buried alive? That shit seems rather unfair

but when you claw out, you get to totally grab air!

The Yays are over, these rhymes are like wood.

But not John Cusack, surprisingly. His performance is good.

He's writing the announcement for Grosse Pointe's reunion.

Booooooooo!

Poe is a weird dude, with sick thoughts out the ass,

but investigating a dead cat? No thanks. (I'll pass)

Mad-Eye Moody rules, in back-to-back flicks!

Too bad in this one, Gleeson plays such a dick.

Clearly I'm slow, my brain unrefined,

Emily's kidnapping's confusing, so I had to rewind.

As a teacher I hated, when my lesson was ruined,

I'm going to wear to this to Matty's kindergarten registration.

I'm with the Professor, when that damn bird flew in.

Obviously it's the 1800's, the tech's not so clever,

but a candle as a flashlight? That's the worst shit ever.

Low lighting is bad, and as a detective it sucked,

but when Doc's using a magnet to operate?

(you're probably f--ked).

Poe's at his end, down to his last breath! (he's numb)

After In Bruges, he's one of my favorite people alive.

His last words are uttered, to guy that's deaf?. (or just dumb)

The ending is abrupt, and almost silly you know,

but the end credit sequence is worse - like an 

aborted Tool video.

And finally, I was crushed, with the final reveal,

That guy? For that reason? Embarrassed I feel.

Thanks again to Wendell, for the friendly invitation.

Though after this post, he might seek revocation.

He didn't ask for bad rhymes, might be thinking what's this for? 

Brown's lost his mind. Ask him to write for me again? Nevermore.