where a storm brews
where the crows linger
where the people know them
but not by name
far away from where they had fallen
long ways away
from where they will rise once more

for now
they sit in the corner
of a place they love
building wings from feathers
left behind by the crows
who stare unbothered on the road

the first pair of wings were too small and ragged
a thing of pride but no structure
not meant for flight but holding them gave hope

the second pair took years
knowing the basic formula now
each feather painstakingly placed

the third pair was an experiment
a challenge to push the limits
to use instead of the pristine second

the fourth was a throwaway
born of desperation and frustration
with these they flew and fell
  
the fifth pair was a copy of the second
but fine-tuned and reinforced
and with them the crows left

The crows did hover above life's crumbling
shadow, never one to be swallowed in the mumbling
screams of what kept even death away.
But life hangs like a noose slowly eroding the way.

Tears of black feathers fell, as darkness sailed on
a sea of eclipsing movements. Twilights black swan
collected on life, and then was static as life bled feeding
on the misgivings that fed a misguided needing.

Shallow where the echoes beneath onyx feeding,
as glimmering hope faded and the inevitable pleading.
For but one more collection of endurance fading.
Then silence as clouds descended, how death became degrading.

You and I
Used to be like two branches intertwined
Now we stand separate as two trees.

How can that be?
To be together, yet feel so lonely?

Two many crows sit in my leaves
My limbs ache
from holding so much weight.

The wind doesn't whisper
It's silent
Like the space in between
You and I.

The crows called to me this morning
So early it was dark
They told me that they missed me
Their song met my insanity
And, together, we sung a lullaby
Under a blood red moon
The perfect ******

A row of ten pigeons on the edge of
A roof while balancing their perspective
They bob their heads to be more objective
A few of course are at their beaks for love
Two among them resemble a white dove
As they fly my poetry finds motif
On my flower a few are destructive
For few minutes I look and dwell above
Suddenly a crow joins them in the row
I too am taken a little aback
Activities of the pigeons get slow
In the focus of pleasure a slight crack

Both the pigeons and crow in our thoughts grow
It’s good that now the white pigeons are back

The demonic doubts demand demolition as
Corruption cries to conscious construction
Like a magician with tricks up his sleeves
The Art of Illusion, to trick and deceive

When it comes to masks the masquerade wont last
The cracks of time pushing future, past
And presently resembling the arch-nemesis assembly
The crafting of crows to call back serenity

With harshened voices, hoarse from hearing
With blacked out eyes and sores still bleeding
The information stream no longer receiving
Dull and numb they succumb unfeeling

Death, destruction and ****** demise
Shuffling heads down and lowered eyes
To touch the spawn is to provoke what lies
Further than six feet under buried heights

To fall so soon is to embrace your doom
We all have clocks that cluck their tunes
A cuckoo clock that counts down too
Moments from eternal midnight you bloom

A lunar flower, lunaticus spores
You feel the rush from opened pores
The fear irrational yet perpetuates your heartbeat
The hands line up and the springs they squeak

Laying down and without a sound
The judgement of time, a crown renouned
A wooden box to return to Earth
What Earth condemned to live and learn

You'll catch me by the sidewalk sitting down and rocking
Majority of people look down but keep on walking
They don't understand the pain like electric shocks to the brain
That make you forget your name, what you stand for seems insane

Where chaos reigns and the brave die, it's easy to get lost
Pulled into a vacuum so abyssal the will to live is forgot
Where the blood is Paracetamol, where it hurts like it's physical
Numb like a vegetable yet hungry like a cannibal

Starving where food is plentiful
Dehydrated when you're forgetful
You know you're mental
And it's as smooth as Butter Menthol

Attached to your bed like it's the only safe haven
Wondering if like a ruin, you're broken and breaking
When vultures circle up high and your eyes are gouged by ravens
The dark thick ooze makes you realise... you need saving

Black feathers signal an arrival
What seemed like endless roads
Carved rugged into the Earth
Beady eyes welcome this moment

Low valley streams, white rapids
Serenely sinister silence of the woods
Two feet, four paws just a blur
Grounded only by a painted beauty

Sun sets, fire rises, that smokey cinder
Eating,  laughing, living so free
Stars explode through the tree tops
Night summons an absolute darkness

Blood red dawn, a shadow of the day
Walking now, footsteps, running water
Collecting the goodbyes and good times
Naturally black feathers occupy the vacancy

Departing umbrellas, we hope the ride was hell!
Please enjoy the rain you're ready for
that is going to wash the crevices of your ribs.

Flocks of crows sitting in a concrete abyss
with itchy stubble
and broken toes
I lost their feathers in the eye of the storm,
as angels wept snow over blue mountains

You must declare danger before you shout war
as weapons are lustful for your children
a forbidden affair has started
between the innocence and the bullets,

And lust, in the form of broken eye contact,
Shifting thighs,
Warming cheeks,

One hand
briefly
on your shoulder