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William Jul 2
Trapped in snow,
My carriage enthralled.
Only sound I hear, the ravens call.
The wolves in the distance,
Their cries do tease.
Carried on the bite of winters breeze.
The trek is hopeless,
No end in sight.
I shudder fiercely in limitless night.
No fire to warm.
No stars to light.
Dawn approaches through snow ladden trees.
I cannot help but feel at ease.
Stopped to rest, my body weary.
Sleep does come, so dark and dreary.
My body numb.
No tears to cry.
Frozen dead is where I lie.
Knawed upon by bear and bird,
By wolf and shrew.
Consumed by beasts just passing through.
Bones lay picked clean,
Dressed by morning dew.
Fragmented, scattered, is where I remain.
Haunted eternally by the ravens refrain.
N Sep 22
I wonder if the filed of lavender
sighs when it yearns for her scent

I wonder if the sunflowers
worship her raven hair
like the sun

I wonder if the moon weeps
with longing over her absence  

I wonder if the sky turns pink
when the spring breeze
touches her silky skin

I wonder if the cherries bleed in her
mouth like my heart when she left
Emptiness prevailing all over us
Like a giant raven.
With Black big wings, hovering over the nation.
Then I see up at the sky,
I wish clouds to give a loud cry.
With all those tears falling,
They Make raven vanish and take back darkness and all in.
My absent minded eye,
turned inwards on issues
of land and place,
did not at first see your dilemma

As the bully bird towered over
you hopped in looping rolls to flee

My eye caught up
and my fat presence unnerved the bird
who flew
and though I presented a different challenge
you bounded hedgeway
pausing in front of me momentarily

Our eyes met,
your black polished buttons
spelled your youth
and redundantly I greeted you

I stepped aside
to better let you escape
to tangle green safety
and I was alone again,
grasping at thoughts

The rest of my walk was elevated:
a wind struck tree,
dry guts splintered,
said something

A lithe muntjac
rose panic in me as it sought to pass,
it’s leaping form unusual,
but there and gone
before I knew

Green woodpecker laughed
at an unknown gag
and my brow furrowed

Toward the end
the complicated wren song,
a grammar babble way beyond,
underscored my lack of comprehension
all the way home
Today’s walk was crazy. Nature bellowed at me and I still can’t get the message.
Casey Jun 1
Once upon a day of spring, while I thought, in the early morning,
Over many an empty and ignored notebook paper on my floor—
While I was writing, nothing shocking, there was a sudden knocking,
As of something frantically pounding, pounding at my chamber door.
“ ‘Tis the poet’s muse,” I uttered, “knocking at my chamber door—
I’ll let it in, nothing more.”

Ah, with sorrow I can recall how onto pages the words would fall,
And every phrase was brought to me from a tempest to the shore.
Eagerly I searched the sands;—digging for them with frenzied hands
I would find my poems, but I can—can never find them anymore—
For the wretched but beautiful language that was once my being’s core—
Beyond my reach, evermore.

And the symphony of a distant dirge filled me with a sudden urge,
Enthralled me—thrilled me with lavish courage felt certain times before;
So that now, in spite of what is real, I opened the door with zeal
And asked, “Muse, will I never heal? Am I destined to find empty shores?”
A buffoon was I, for nothing but a whisper far off from my door.
Quoth the whisper, “Evermore.”

“Be that word your leave, fake muse, you mirage!” I howled with grieve—
“Stay no longer in my presence, knock no longer on my door!”
But the whisper, the muse, remains still lurking outside causing me pain—
Incessant knocking, there’s no refrain—more papers strewn on the floor.
I plead with the muse, I beg it to take flight from my chamber door.
The muse just states, “Evermore.”
LA Assignment was to write a parody of Poe's poem "The Raven". Fair use and all that, I don't claim to own this since even though I did write it, not every phrase is original so therefore don't credit this to me.
Diana May 30
A whoosh of whispering air
A flicker of a wing
Black and smooth as the night sky
For whom does this dark bird sing?

It soars, flies, dances
Swift as the breeze
Sharp as the edge of the knife
Shrewd as the deadly seas

Those glittering eyes
Dark, endless holes
Like a unknown gateway
To a million souls

Into the air it flies
It’s form invisible against the night
It’s voice a siren’s song
That leads many to fake light

Their chatter is not a secret
They are made to enthrall
But, animals out there, you better hope
You don’t hear the raven’s call

— OrcasTogether
Those malicious creatures...
EmperorMoth May 21
Clipped by the cage you're confined in,
Dark and compliant, a conflicted life of air,
All faces remembered, those who are in debt to the raven's snare,
Inspired by shadows that lurk in the sun, the ones with many sins,
You have a story to tell, but one mustn't dwell,
You will sing your family's name, let it echo like a bell,

Caged raven...what is it you think?
Do not fear tomorrow
for tomorrow will never come
do not fear the past
for the past is already done

do not cry for approval
for approval gives no bread
do not weep for the dying
instead laugh with the dead

follow the path of gravestones
decorated with gold
follow the dark and the light
to see which one takes hold

listen to the bird call
follow the raven's trail
listen to the wolf howl
watch him shake his tail

coo coo
caw caw

run as fast as we can

moo moo
ba ba

back to where it began
My heart is cold to the touch
Not tender, but hard as stone
No love can cut through it as such
It's also as black as a raven
Maybe my evil is too much
For this world to handle.
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