The Raven is arguably Porn's best work. And, in my opinion, the two poems (The Raven and The Raven) are the ultimate poems for comparing the works of Edgar Allan Poe and Edgar Allan Porn. Incredibly, few people have even heard of Porn, or the amazing inexplicable parallel that lies between his life and Poe's.

Edgar Allan Porn and Edgar Allan Poe were both born on the same day in 1809. They were born on opposite sides of the United States, to different parents, and, incredibly, never met. They had strikingly similar appearances, personalities, and, well, names. Poe and Porn both based much of their writing on the supernatural, but Poe focused on horror and Porn focused on the erotic. Astonishingly, Porn and Poe consistently wrote poems with the same title, same rhyming style and same number of verses. It has been speculated that Poe stole Porn's ideas, but I don't believe this was the case. Both poets were very popular during their lives, and their popularity was so great that new words incorporating their names were introduced to the English language. 'Poetaster' was a tribute to Poe's poetic skills, and 'pornography' (literally - the writings of Porn), was introduced to describe Porn's original erotic fiction. Unfortunately, in time, and especially due to the sexual revolution, Porn's popularity faded, and he was mostly forgotten. Still, I believe he deserves the same respect given to Poe.

It is also interesting to note that while all other poems are the same length, Poe's The Raven is 18 verses long, while Porn's is only 17. This caused a stir when they published the poems, because it was anticipated that the poems would be of the same length. The reason for this remained a mystery for many years, until Porn's diary was published in 1867. In it, he disclosed that he had originally written 18 verses, but felt that one was too nasty for the public to accept. Alas, it has been lost. One can only speculate at what was written there.

But without further ado, I present:

The Raven (the Edgar Allan Porn version)

Once upon a midnight brandy, while I pondered, hot and randy,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of diverse hardcore,
It was really not surprising, as I started fantasizing,
That I felt my cock a-rising, rising like a giant spore.
"It is stiffening,' I muttered, "rising like a giant spore-
This hard-on I can't ignore."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And my stiff and throbbing member cast its shadow on the floor,
Eagerly I wished a harlot; dreamed I of a naked starlet
And of lilac-scented Charlotte Smith who used to live next door;
Of a sweet and radiant maiden, of a dirty smutty whore-
All of those I would adore.

And by now my full erection, simply begging for affection
Bulged - divulged to me that if I left my pants on 'twould be sore;
So I got to the unzipping of my pants, I kept on stripping,
And the air was rather nipping, standing naked on the floor.
Then I grabbed my penis knowing that I couldn't wait no more,
"I must get on with this chore".

And without any debating, I embarked on masturbating-
Wanking hither, yanking thither, with my thumb and fingers four;
With some oil for lubrication, and two hands for more sensation,
Soon I gave in to temptation, standing on the hardwood floor.
I would soon eject my semen all across the hardwood floor,
Maybe get some on the drawer.

I had almost churned my butter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven 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 Phallus just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my amazement into smiling,
By the very strange decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though you quite enjoy to wank," it said, "now let us both be frank;
In the end I think you'll thank me and be glad for this rapport.
I can bring to life your fantasies, your fantasies galore,
Who could really ask for more?"

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
And I wondered at what further magic this rum raven bore;
I said, "I fear you are quixotic, for my fancies, though erotic,
Are a little more exotic than the ones you heard before-
Just a little more psychotic than the ones you heard before.
Will you still step to the fore?"

But this rummy corvus corax, as unmoving as estate tax,
Simply breathed a single sound that sounded faintly like a snore,
And with just one feather flapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"This cannot be all my fancies tapping at my chamber door.
'Tis a dream and nothing more."

My expected excitation didn't mar my fascination
At the hot and sexy group that to my room began to pour.
Every fantasy and dream, from the mild to the extreme,
Every topic, every theme, came in through my chamber door.
Every fetish that I ever dreamed came through my chamber door,
Who could really ask for more?

Then some people started fucking, and some others started sucking
In a mass of bodies writhing all about my chamber floor.
It was such an exhibition, with no trace of inhibition
And erotic erudition seeping through their every pore,
Doing everything I ever dared to dream about and more.
Oh, sincerely, so much more.

There was one girl wearing leather masturbating with a feather,
And a woman getting ass-rimmed by a man she knelt before,
And another girl fellating just some guy that she was dating,
While a pregnant girl, lactating, licked the pantyhose she wore,
And a teenage slut proclaiming, "Come and fuck me, I'm a whore."
There was that and so much more.

There were two asiatic she-boys pleasuring each other with toys,
While a curious young virgin tried her body to explore:
She was wearing a bikini, and, while sipping a martini,
She inserted a zucchini in a place so pure before,
Then a dildo, then a carrot in that place so pure before.
Pure it would be nevermore.

There was one dark goth chick twisting her own pierced nipples while fisting
A tight-bottomed crew-cut soldier from the US marine corps.
And a mistress with a D-cup took a cigarette and lit up,
While her man-bitch, who was tied up, let her spank him with an oar.
And she fiercely whacked his bottom 'till it was all red and sore,
Even then he begged for more.

A small-breasted girl was kissing a Latina who was pissing
On a midget who was eating Jenny from the candy store;
And a blonde was pulling beads from a hot naughty nurse's tight bum,
While her plump redheaded mum was getting stuffed in the back door,
And a lonely horny housewife wore high heels and nothing more.
Just high heels and nothing more.

And a schoolgirl wearing braces, bending down to tie her laces,
Let you get a peek of the white cotton panties that she wore.
And a nun - a true believer, with a really hairy beaver,
Got it on with a retriever, an impressive labrador;
And a girl was fucking tentacles washed up some alien shore.
Who could really ask for more?

Due to all this excitation and my obvious elation,
I had totally forgotten that I still was, like before,
With my hand around my man stick, rubbing up and down my Old Nick-
Wouldn't take a magic trick for me to drizzle on the floor.
Sure enough, within a second I was raining on the floor.
Even got some on the drawer.

When I regained my composure, I just stared at my enclosure-
It was vacant as a desert island's long abandoned shore.
Was it my imagination? There was just no indication
Of the orgy of temptation that was there a sec before;
Just a single night-black feather lying on my hardwood floor-
Just a feather, nothing more.

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