#crow poems on Hello Poetry

Lysander Gray Sep 2015

My love bird – a carrion crow
           (unwished)
Who’s beak reeks of narcissus
           (the scent of thee)

Let me call the black rumble of wings
to fill skies and sheets
with the thunder of your feet.

           (Ah! Love. What A thing it is
           to be feathers on the wall
           and flesh in ice.)

#love #poem #crow #carrion

Sam Sep 2015

Echoes.

The crow's call echoes travel on the bitter breeze of a September morning. the breeze travels far, then there is silence.

#time #sky #silence #bitter #birds #breeze #travel #crow #september #echoes

Meteo Mar 2015

Morning walk for Coffee in the City (and as the title suggests, let the pretentiousness commence).

Spring does not occur
in verdant shocks and celebrations
of garden blooms and animals *******
it's a slow parade
it's a hostage situation

there is a crow
dodging traffic for roadkill
there is a boy
who loves a girl who doesn't love him

The Twilight Man
finally learns how to cross the street
alongside school children

The thin ice
which still resides
on the concrete
dares you to be the first to traverse it

and the snowbanks
which lay before you
feign alpine hazard

and I wonder what the naked tree branches are saying
as they reach for the sky with twisted fingertips
with their meteorological braille
we confuse for variations of shade

they say give us back the sun
and we'll give you our leaves
there is a book in each tree we do not cut down
and we read it as we breathe
a forest is a library we breathe

Spring is resolving hostage negotiations.

#love #spring #unrequited #branches #crow #twlight

Jason Mykl Snyman Aug 2015

Crows

There was a tier in the dark, where everything rode silently below the surface. Where secrets and sorrows never rose for air. In this place, when all light died and the wolves grew old, the crows rode upon their backs.
Crows as black as rotting teeth, they spent the days shrieking in the fields, and at night they gathered in their shadowy roosts, making evil plans and discussing the inevitable fall of mankind. Only there would he come to realize that all men are only as sick as the secrets they harbour.
The crows stank of a different rot. They had been feasting, somewhere, somewhere in the dark and the gloom, in the hidden places, on hidden bodies. They stank and they carried that stink with them. Their eyes had beheld things he dared not imagine, and they gazed upon him with those same little eyes, conspiring with one another in harsh, croaky declarations, as if they really had some awful language of their own. Screaming gibberish.
It was known to all that Christopher Weiher possessed an almost irrational hatred toward all crows. He sometimes wondered if they were now just waiting for him to die.

#fear #hatred #darkness #black #crow #crows

M Crux Alexander Jul 2015

The Lion and the Bull

The Lion and the Bull
The Wolf and the Crow
How we met and fell in love
is a mystery we may never know
But, here we are,
twenty years in
and we glare through glazed stares
wondering how to start again
Your freedom of expression
clashing against my sensitive ears
My rebellion against repression
is warring with your fears
How do we cross this battlefield
with our shields in the air?
With our spears raised high,
can we show that we care?
We're ready to fight
and we want to join sides
together against the odds
for the rest of our lives.

070815~1.34p

Astrologically, a Leo and a Taurus (I hear that's bad.)
In spirit, a Crow and a Wolf.
This is very hard work, but there has never been a more valuable prize.

#relationship #wolf #crow #taurus #leo

Anthony Perry Jul 2015

Passionate Attack

I've been feeling the itch to write a poem but there isn't much left on the surface for me to comb. I think the problem is that I feel too at ease within my own home, nothing tragic has happened so my skin feels so securely fastened that nothing can access the workings of my inner axis. I want to cut the straps and let everything fall to the floor, I want so much for my guts to push against the closet doors so my skeletons can adore the metaphorical gore and reach out to feel for more. What i need is for the pain to come back, a crow to seek out the dove and commit a passionate attack. I desperately need that confinement to feel the claustrophobic sense of pleasure in every tightening breath while I scratch and scratch at the surface until my nails are ****** and cracked. Everything has gotten dry and stale, I hope for something to block up my tracks and make my mind derail.

#sad #passion #depressed #dark #darkness #blood #crow #metaphore #asylum #claustrobic

S R Mats May 2015

At My Window

Crow at my window
Cawing, calling:
Come into the richness
Of the forest.

His call is tempting.

#nature #forest #crow

Skylar May 2015

Rust

Around my white vinyl house
Is scattered an assortment of mills:
Motley brick bones
With salted ****** cement cartilage
And cracked, uninhabited eyes
Staring down apathy and progress.

Pillars that once asphyxiated the sky
With black and grey
Now sigh dust into the breeze;
The dust of men and machines
Long-silent and long-still.

Poisonous paint peels off of memories
As cancerous flakes lazily snow from the ceiling.
Snake skins of creeping ruddy corrosion climb pistons
And embrace wheels.

Vines strangle arteries and musty furniture.
Trees breach the foundation
And claw open the rotted eaves,
Eager to drink the sticky August heat.

A crow grips a window-frame
Which has long outlived its purpose
And casts a numb eye over her domain.

A breath of moisture in the air:
A nor'easter approaches.

#death #dark #nature #philosophy #human #crow #factories #mills

Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015

Rose Alone with Crow

In straps, of wire saplings,
Becomes one wild rose.
Alone in the dawn,
A solitary crow knows
That this is beauty,
Greater than his own
Shiny black robe.
Impossibly regal
Red as a scarlet wail,
A siren, amongst all
The greens and yellows
Of a meadow, of the entire
World, is the rose, above those,
Especially the bleak, envious
Crow, latched to a branch
As scaly and gnarled as his soul,
Blacker than eternal night,
Beside the shining light
Of the rightly charmed
Wild rose,
Alone.
Sorry is the crow—
Most of all unmatched, strikingly
To long flame of chalk faced moon,
Rides in airs, misbegotten, makes
Desolate cries, of wounding caws,
Self inflicted, so, somehow seems
Unalive, tarred, undead as smoke,
His fettered, black, unfeathering
Eyes. Not like the blooming spark
And flash of the stunning, runner,
Unbeaten, indomidible, shocking,
Wild rose, unmired by bramble,
Wood nor motley thorn of bush,
A star of life, razor cut, blistering,
Free, this spirited, ****** heart,
Set, a rage, on jagged leaf.

In tangled straps of green wire saplings,
A Rose is even more a rose, next to crow.

#nature #beauty #rose #spirit #wild #crow

Jacquelyn Audrey Whiston Mar 2015

Bird Song

**** every person who ever said "don't romanticize self harm"

**** every person who just stared and never asked how I was

And **** those friends who never helped, who never even cared to bring it up when I gave myself stitches in their ******* bathrooms.

There is nothing romantic about the slashing of your own flesh. There is NOTHING beautiful about the change of skin tone on my legs from scar upon scar. There is nothing romantic about self harm but the love of my life can touch my scars and I can ******* undress for once without hiding.

She can graze and stare and one day she kissed.
She kissed and she kissed and she ******* kissed until my eyes burned and I was shattered. She ******* broke my ribs when she touched them and punctured my lungs when her lips plunged into my valleys of pink and purple and I wanted nothing more than my scars kissed.
I wanted nothing more than to be ******* loved and my pain to be ******* recognized and romanticized until I couldn't feel it anymore.

So **** those who said don't romanticize self harm.

Because I am scared and weak and sad and I want to be swooned and coddled and treated like the wounded bird I am. My wings were clipped with my own hands and she desperately tries to heal them with every ******* kiss.

And I can feel the bones form and the feathers grow

I was a ******* crow and she made me a dove.

#love #cutting #self #harm #sad #depression #selfharm #sh #bird #crow