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Said The Raven
To The Raven
Which Raven are you?


I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.


And I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Edgar Allan Poe.


Apparently there's a rave on -
Shall we go?


Yes - let us go then you and I
As the evening is spread out
Against the sky.


But not like a patient
Etherised upon a table.


Let us like Thunderbirds
Not gentle go into this dark night.


So dressed in sable
White gloves
And whistles
They went on their way -
Not looking forward
To conversations about
Michelangelo at all.


For as we all know
Old age should rave and burn
At close of day.
And not just fizzle out.


More big shout...........................................


And rave until you fall.
Both Edgar Allan Poe and Samuel Taylor Coleridge did both write poems called The Raven. The latter's is one of the most dispiriting and disconcerting pieces of vindictive revenge in the English language.T S Eliot and Dylan Thomas did write poems called The Love Song of J Alfred Purfrock and Do Not Gentle Go Into That Good Night respectively and lines from both poems appear here in various guises. If you know niether both would make most anthologies of 20th century poetry.

And honestly white gloves and whistles were common on the rave scene in the early days.
wes parham May 2014
Hello again, raven, I’m glad that you’re here,
It’s been far too long since you came.
I missed your black feathers, your gravelly call,
Becomes music when speaking my name.
Lean close, my bird, and tell me a secret,
Any, if yours, will do.
I’m too long alone, and the world is too guarded,
I’m pinning my hopes all on you.

Lean again, bird, and tell me some more,
Black feathers cantilevered,
Away and Away.
Drink of me,
And Drink of you,
As we think all the night into day.
Music, when speaking my name.
Her voice, unkind; her heart, steady set against a storm of blackness.
By your thoughts you will change this world for the better.

Read here by the author:
https://soundcloud.com/warmphase/lean-raven-head?in=warmphase/sets/poems
Megan May Apr 2014
He whispers sweet nothings into my ear
His quiet musings that lull me to sleep
His teeth gently graze my earlobe, pulling at my earring
He's almost like a raven, always fixating on the shiny parts of me
Except instead of repeating never more, he screams forever from the rooftops
He's taught me how to fly
How to leave the ground
How to soar above the earth, into the clouds
He's given me hope and serenity and peace
And for this I will forever be grateful
Alissa Rogers May 2012
Stepping out into the yard,
my curvéd bow strung tight.
Thereupon my driveway,
three blackbirds share the light.
The moment is opportune,
it must be now, do or die.
I've got thoughts of my belly
filled with hearty blackbird pie.
"What did they ever do to you?
They're not a threat in the least."
Yet should I die in my own yard,
they'd pick me for the feast.
It's really a poem to amuse myself more than anything.
Skadi Snow Apr 2014
The Raven Feather was a gift.
I told you to look at this feather
whenever you're longing for me.

I couldn't stay.
The master was calling.
Haunted me in my dreams.
Commanded me to return.

So I turned around.
Raven feathers sprouted out of me.
And I flew into the dawn.

I still haven't forgot you..
I'm just waiting
for the opportunity
to run away
to defeat the master
to break the curse
to fly over borders into life.

Until then
Remember me.
I shall return!
Remember me.
When you hold the Raven Feather in your hand.
Inspired by "Krabat" by  Otfried Preußler (German Author)
cosmic poet Apr 2014
raven hair
moonlight fair
heart so pure
true to lure
easy to become a target
in a world of scarlet
JoBe Arenas Apr 2014
One songbird weeping
Five songbirds sleeping
Five wake to sooth one
No good still done

One songbird weeping
Three Songbirds sleeping
None wake to sooth one
One's calmness long gone

One songbird weeping
No songbirds sleeping
One abandoned all alone
The support known before long gone

— The End —