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Jaicob Sep 5
Deep in my heart,
There's a crow who sings
Songs of love
For his darling wife.
Their love lives on
In my fragile heart.
Though he's mute
To others around,
he is headstrong
And keeps me moving.
He's quiet still,
Recalling the
Memories of the past
When his wife
Still walked the earth-
Before you
Killed her with your words.
Dug up an earthworm
the longest I've ever seen
while paving a garden path
to make my home look clean.

Thought it wouldn't suit the worm
to be trapped under so much rock,
so I tossed him over to my neighbour
who has lots of lawn around his block.

Hoped the worm would appreciate
that my strategy has saved his day,
when a crow came swooping down,
picked him up and flew away.
(Ultimately, at least for tonight) math is about how well I can logically uses elements together.
A crow can use a tool to get another thing to use for something else.
I imagine those who have accomplished the full pedagogy of math are the most capable of humans in using elements for "work".
The crow and his burnt feathers,
His fading Iridescent luster
calls out for a life that at one point

He knew.

Lined with dark ash, covered
In rubies and gold.
Yet one look up above
One he could not obtain.

An illuminated lie in his dreaming state.

In stillness he stood
The ink that he bore
The scattered light he once held
soaking in his obsidian hues.

Things he could not take back
Things that he could not have

And all the questions he still had
could only be answered

By the moon.

-Kore
I used to have a pet crow
Parker Vance Feb 24
Crow's feathers like
The exoskeleton
Of a long-nose weevil,

The color of
Mom's grease-stained
Pots illuminated in moonlight.

They're a mind
That's gone dark
With a tunnel straight through,

Like a billion
Ants all piled
On- throbbing

Can you hear
Them *******,
Hear them slurping?

Those oily wings
Writhe in air like bodies
Launched from 90-story trade buildings

They close their eyes;
Sleep forever
Bathing in crow's feathers.
daycrow Dec 2020
to be a crow, and fly on a whim
to every hidden place, every ocean rim
and tree-branch limb;
free to examine every carcase and doe
that falls below-
oh, to be a crow!
J Dec 2020
you say that you,
when something happens,
choose fight over flight.
yet. whenever I'm in trouble
or sad
or panicking
or numb
or angry
or bloodied
or bruised
you run, you freak out, you leave, you
vanish.
you fly away, raven.
so perching myself on this boney finger
of Death's
I, the crow, will caw
until you return
"to protect."
u h h
daycrow Nov 2020
hello, my nightbird.
did you sing your song today?
did they hear your dawn lullaby,
or did they kick you away?

the fault was never yours to begin with;
earth crumbles beneath my feet day after day,
but you flit
and feel no need to stay.

and that's fine. i mean it
when i say,
"i wouldn't have it any other way."
i meant it then, and i mean it now. have you seen the depths in your eyes? i've drowned in them before.
daycrow Nov 2020
to be a youth , and not know the pain
of letting go , true, but also the sting
the burn of the rain ,
that runs down your skin and reminds you again

to be a queen , and not know the loss
that hangs heavy over each cottage door -
draped like wash - day sheets ;
not white , not black , but something all the same

to be a crow , and fly on a whim
to every hidden place , every ocean rim
and tree - branch limb ;
free to examine every carcase and doe
that falls below -
oh , to be a crow !
o h   ,   t o    b e    a    c r o w   !
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