Moistski Reads

Moistski Reads

Omegon

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Welcome back to Moistski Reads! Today, we shall be delving into the works of John Cooper Clarke.

Source - https://johncooperclarke.com/poems/i-married-a-monster-from-outer-space

The children of gods.

Poseidon and Hades. Two of the most powerful gods within the Greek Pantheon.

The king of the gods.

For our final installment, we shall be presenting three of the more well known fakes, that were fabricated to make the Ripper seem more intimidating than he already was. Cute.

#JackTheRipper #Omegon #History

Sources

Stories: https://www.casebook.org/ripper_letters/

One of the most iconic letters, from one of the UK's most infamous killers. Jack. A man who terrorized Whitechapel during the 31st August and the 9th November 1888. These murders were never solved and the speculation surrounding "Jack" has made him a British legend.

Sources

Stories: https://www.casebook.org/ripper_letters/

One of the most iconic letters, from one of the UK's most infamous killers. Jack. A man who terrorized Whitechapel during the 31st August and the 9th November 1888. These murders were never solved and the speculation surrounding "Jack" has made him a British legend.

#JackTheRipper #DearBoss #Omegon

Sources

Story: https://www.jack-the-ripper.org/dear-boss.htm

Revenge is a dish best served....buried in a wall. Reminds me alot of Spartacus (tv show).

Sources

Story: https://poestories.com/read/amontillado
Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/user-276270134/the-cask-of-amontillado-by-edgar-allan-poe

Additional Voicework by Irate Alex: https://tinyurl.com/4m5e7cj7

Art by UrbanaFox: https://tinyurl.com/2uywb866

Social Links: https://linktr.ee/Omegon

#ASMR #EdgarAllanPoe #Omegon

Dopplegangers and delusions are quite the combination.

Death is inevitable. No magics can prevent that.

Sources

Story: https://poestories.com/read/facts

Social Links: https://linktr.ee/Omegon

#ASMR #Story #EdgarAllanPoe

The poem examines bell sounds as symbols of four milestones of human experience—childhood, youth, maturity, and death. “The Bells” is composed of four stanzas of increasing length and is a showcase of onomatopoeia, alliteration, repetition, and assonance.

Sources

Story: https://poets.org/poem/bells
Rain Ambience: https://youtu.be/cyJLrhJtahw
Bells Ambience: https://youtu.be/aU-WlLFFRNs

Thumbnail by UrbanaFox: https://www.twitch.tv/urbanafox

Social Links: https://linktr.ee/Omegon

The story is told by a Demon, who sits and observes the actions of a solitary man in a desolate, terrifying land. Through the tale, the Demon attempts to provoke a reaction in the man, detailing his manipulations of the hellish, nightmarish landscape around the man.

A city ruled by death...fun times.

Nevermore.

We all love a good drink.....and adventure....right?

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace—
Radiant palace—reared its head.
In the monarch Thought’s dominion,
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow
(This—all this—was in the olden
Time long ago)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A wingèd odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically
To a lute’s well-tunèd law,
Round about a throne where, sitting,
Porphyrogene!
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch’s high estate;
(Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him, desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh—but smile no more.

Becaise I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

The story begins with the unnamed narrator arriving at the house of his friend, Roderick Usher, having received a letter from him in a distant part of the country complaining of an illness and asking for his help. As he arrives, the narrator notices a thin crack extending from the roof, down the front of the house and into the adjacent lake.

It is revealed that Roderick's twin sister, Madeline, is also ill and falls into cataleptic, deathlike trances. Roderick and Madeline are the only remaining members of the Usher family.

The narrator is impressed with Roderick's paintings and attempts to cheer him by reading with him and listening to his improvised musical compositions on the guitar. Roderick sings "The Haunted Palace", then tells the narrator that he believes the house he lives in to be alive, and that this sentience arises from the arrangement of the masonry and vegetation surrounding it. Further, Roderick believes that his fate is connected to the family mansion.

Roderick later informs the narrator that his sister has died. Fearing that her body will be exhumed for medical study, Roderick insists that she be entombed for two weeks in the family tomb located in the house before being permanently buried. The narrator helps Roderick put the body of Roderick's sister in the tomb, and notes that Madeline has rosy cheeks, as some do after death. They inter her, but over the next week both Roderick and the narrator find themselves becoming increasingly agitated for no apparent reason. A storm begins. Roderick comes to the narrator's bedroom, which is situated directly above the vault, and throws open his window to the storm. He notices that the tarn (lake) surrounding the house seems to glow in the dark as it glowed in Roderick Usher's paintings, but there is no lightning.

The narrator attempts to calm Roderick by reading aloud The Mad Trist, a novel involving a knight named Ethelred who breaks into a hermit's dwelling in an attempt to escape an approaching storm, only to find a palace of gold guarded by a dragon. He also finds, hanging on the wall, a shield of shining brass on which is written a legend:

Who entereth herein, a conqueror hath bin;
Who slayeth the dragon, the shield he shall win;[1]
With a stroke of his mace, Ethelred kills the dragon, who dies with a piercing shriek, and proceeds to take the shield, which falls to the floor with an unnerving clatter.

As the narrator reads of the knight's forcible entry into the dwelling, cracking and ripping sounds are heard somewhere in the house. When the dragon is described as shrieking as it dies, a shriek is heard, again within the house. As he relates the shield falling from off the wall, a reverberation, metallic and hollow, can be heard. Roderick becomes increasingly hysterical, and eventually exclaims that these sounds are being made by his sister, who was in fact alive when she was entombed.

The bedroom door is then blown open to reveal Madeline standing there. She falls on her brother and both land on the floor as corpses. The narrator then flees the house, and, as he does so, notices a flash of moonlight behind him which causes him to turn back, in time to see the moon shining through the suddenly widened crack. As he watches, the House of Usher splits in two and the fragments sink into the lake.

Who doesn't like a good ole party?

Stories like these, are the reason many fear the ocean.

Well there are worst ways one could go...this one is a tad sadistic though.

Cats are snakes...ok?!

"The Tell-Tale Heart" is a first-person narrative told by an unnamed narrator. Insisting that they are sane, the narrator suffers from a disease (nervousness) which causes "over-acuteness of the senses".

The old man with whom the narrator lives has a clouded, pale, blue "vulture-like" eye, which distresses and manipulates the narrator so much that the narrator plots to murder the old man, despite also insisting that the narrator loves the old man. The narrator is insistent that this careful precision in committing the murder proves that they cannot possibly be insane. For seven nights, the narrator opens the door of the old man's room to shine a sliver of light onto the "evil eye." However, the old man's vulture-eye is always closed, making it impossible to "do the work," thus making the narrator go further into distress.

On the eighth night, the old man awakens after the narrator's hand slips and makes a noise, interrupting the narrator's nightly ritual. The narrator does not draw back and, after some time, decides to open the lantern. A single thin ray of light shines out and lands precisely on the "evil eye," revealing that it is wide open. The narrator hears the old man's heart beating, which only gets louder and louder. This increases the narrator's anxiety to the point where the narrator decides to strike. He jumps into the room and the old man shrieks once before he is killed. The narrator then dismembers the body and conceals the pieces under the floorboards and ensures the concealment of all signs of the crime. Even so, the old man's scream during the night causes a neighbor to report to the police, who the narrator invites in to look around. The narrator claims that the scream heard was the narrator's own in a nightmare and that the man is absent in the country. Confident that they will not find any evidence of the murder, the narrator brings chairs for them and they sit in the old man's room. The chairs are placed on the very spot where the body is concealed; the police suspect nothing, and the narrator has a pleasant and easy manner.

The narrator begins to feel uncomfortable and notices a ringing in the narrator's ears. As the ringing grows louder, the narrator concludes that it is the heartbeat of the old man coming from under the floorboards. The sound increases steadily to the narrator, though the officers do not seem to hear it. Terrified by the violent beating of the heart and convinced that the officers are aware not only of the heartbeat but also of the narrator's guilt, the narrator breaks down and confesses. The narrator tells them to tear up the floorboards to reveal the remains of the old man's body.

Story: https://www.poemuseum.org/the-tell-tale-heart

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Created 1 year, 5 months ago.

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Category Arts & Literature

On this channel, I upload readings taken from the works of HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. My intentions, with this channel, is to become a better orator and editor.