Happy Pi Day!

We celebrate Pi day with a poem. Why, you ask? Because it puts the  PI in PoetIc, and that is your clue. Scroll to the end of the poem if you’d like the answer.

Poe, E.
Near a Raven

Midnights so dreary, tired and weary. 
    Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore. 
During my rather long nap - the weirdest tap! 
    An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber's antedoor. 
        "This", I whispered quietly, "I ignore".
Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember. 
    Inflamed by lightning's outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor. 
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded: 
    That inimitable lesson in elegance - Lenore - 
        Is delighting, exciting...nevermore.
Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted), 
    And fear overcame my being - the fear of "forevermore". 
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided, 
    As I said, "Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore. 
        A man is visiting, of age threescore."
Taking little time, briskly addressing something: "Sir," (robustly) 
    "Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore? 
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly? 
    Why, devil incarnate!--" Here completely unveiled I my antedoor-- 
        Just darkness, I ascertained - nothing more.
While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend. 
    I perceived the weirdest dream...of everlasting "nevermores". 
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled - such relief! - as my intellect said, 
    (Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered "Lenore". 
        This only, as evermore.
Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid, 
    While intrusive tap did then come thrice - O, so stronger than sounded afore. 
"Surely" (said silently) "it was the banging, clanging window lattice." 
    Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore, 
        Perceiving: a "nevermore".
Completely disturbed, I said, "Utter, please, what prevails ahead. 
    Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary 'nevermores'?" 
The bird intruded thence - O, irritation ever since! - 
    Then sat on Pallas' pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore), 
        And stated "nevermores".
Bemused by raven's dissonance, my soul exclaimed, "I seek intelligence; 
    Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn 'nevermores'!" 
"Nevermores", winged corvus proclaimed - thusly was a raven named? 
    Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore? 
        I heard an oppressive "nevermore".
My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain, 
    Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for. 
"Surely," said the raven's watcher, "separate discourse is wiser. 
    Therefore, liberation I'll obtain, retreating heretofore - 
        Eliminating all the 'nevermores' ".
Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust. 
    Always saying "never" (by a red chamber's door). 
A poor, tender heartache maven - a sorrowful bird - a raven! 
    O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he'd fly heretofore. 
        Still sitting, he recited "nevermores".
The raven's dirge induced alarm - "nevermore" quite wearisome. 
    I meditated: "Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?" 
O, a sadness was manifest - a sorrowful cry of unrest; 
    "O," I thought sincerely, "it's a melancholy great - furthermore, 
        Removing doubt, this explains 'nevermores' ".
Seizing just that moment to sit - closely, carefully, advancing beside it, 
    Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore. 
A creature, midnight-black, watched there - it studied my soul, unawares. 
    Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for. 
        Silently, I pondered the "nevermores".
"Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage - I am disturbed!" 
    Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core. 
"That delectable Lenore - whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore, 
    Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore. 
        She's returning - that maiden - aye, nevermore."
Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness. 
    Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore: 
"Wretch," (addressing blackbird only) "fly swiftly - emancipate me!" 
    "Respite, respite, detestable raven - and discharge me, I implore!" 
        A ghostly answer of: "nevermore".
" 'Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?" 
    "Answer, tempter-sent creature!", I inquired, like before. 
"Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with 'nevermores' quite indoctrinated, 
    Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore? 
        I am subdued!", I then swore.
In answer, the raven turned - relentless distress it spurned. 
    "Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!" - pleaded I for. 
"Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated? 
    Nevermore Lenore respondeth?", adamantly I encored. 
        The appeal was ignored.
"O, satanic inferno's denizen -- go!", I said boldly, standing then. 
    "Take henceforth loathsome "nevermores" - O, to an ugly Plutonian shore! 
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth. 
    Promptly leave and retreat!", I resolutely swore. 
        Blackbird's riposte: "nevermore".
So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways. 
    Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore. 
Suffering stark raven's conversings, so I am condemned, subserving, 
    To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore. 
        Thus henceforth, I'll rise (from a darkness, a grave) -- nevermore!

-- Original: E. Poe 
-- Redone by measuring circles.
This poem was written by pi enthusiast Mike Keith as a retelling of Poe’s The Raven but written in a manner such that the lengths of consecutive words match the digits of pi. Such a form of writing has a name, Standard Pilish.
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