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.