"crake" poems
Unwatch'd, the garden bough shall sway,
The tender blossom flutter down,
Unloved, that beech will gather brown,
This maple burn itself away;
Unloved, the sun-flower, shining fair,
Ray round with flames her disk of seed,
And many a rose-carnation feed
With summer spice the humming air;
Unloved, by many a sandy bar,
The brook shall babble down the plain,
At noon or when the lesser wain
Is twisting round the polar star;
Uncared for, gird the windy grove,
And flood the haunts of hern and crake;
Or into silver arrows break
The sailing moon in creek and cove;
Till from the garden and the wild
A fresh association blow,
And year by year the landscape grow
Familiar to the stranger's child;
As year by year the labourer tills
His wonted glebe, or lops the glades;
And year by year our memory fades
From all the circle of the hills.
3.2k
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP
THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
A STREAK OF LIGHTNING BOLT BLISTERING THE EARTH
TREMBLING AND SHAKING LOOSE OF HELLS OWN HEARTH
MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING
BODY BRACED IS FORCING
SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS
KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS
THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL
GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M GRIPPIN' HARD
ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL
KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD
I'M GRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
SPITTIN' SPARKS
ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP
THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
THIS RUPTURED CHASM ERUPTS SPLINTERING THE HEAP
WILDFIRE SPITTING FROM INFERNAL DEEP
MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING
BODY BRACED IS FORCING
SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS
KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS
THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL
GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M GRIPPIN' HARD
ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL
KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD
I'M GRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
SPITTIN' SPARKS
ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL
THESE DARK WINGS
SPREAD OVER MY HORIZON
REIGN IN EVIL
REIGN IN FREEDOM
REIGN IN HELL
THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD
FLOWING TO THE FLOOD
THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD
FLOWING TO THE FLOOD
FROM THE GNASHING TEETH OF THE JAWS OF HELL
RASPING GASPING SEETHING AND BREATHING
MOVING FASTER THAN THE TOLL OF THAT FATEFUL BELL
WREAK CRAKE SHREIKS AND SHAKES THE HEATH
WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SLIDE
SLIPPERY SLOPE
LANDSCAPE
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
WINDIN' DOWN THAT SLIPPERY SLOPE
LANDSLIDE
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SIDE
SLIPPERY SLOPE
BLACK TRACKS
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
Apr 24, 2021
Apr 24, 2021 at 8:19 AM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 12:10 PM UTC
your a pretty girl in platinum, anyone tells you, your not. You've got the football team just crake em'.
Like that **** don't matter, you'll forget about it when life is served to you, on a silver platter.
you smile in all your pitchers, but you've got all of them fouled. because behind closed doors your broken, and inside you feel like your choken'
You've got the chance to be the best, but inside your just like the rest.
Life's not fare, not what its all cracked up to be.
You watch as your mom forgets you dad's infidelity.
Your brothers never home, he left when he was old enough
leveeing you to pick up the ruff stuff.
He smokes to much duch in the bathroom, acts out, schools about to call your dad soon.
Your mom reads the note you wrote, se calls you out and pushes you down.
Sais if you ruin the face of the family, they'd never find your body.
Because of this, you feel death is your best option.
The way out its in the bathroom, take a few pills you'll be dead soon.
your running a race but you'll never finish it. But all your doing is trying to save face.
Now I'd like o take this moment, to tell you to take a bow, weight for the call of the Curtin, because you've fouled them all, they never knew you were hurtin'
After all this you come out alive.
Because some kid saw it in your eyes.
Remember that kid you watched get pushed to the ground, he knew that you were feeling numb and you really had no one.
the kid stud up for you when he never even knew you, he stood up because he really hoped you would come out of it, and be above it....but you never woke up, in your head you had enough, your mom cant see It because she's to busy trying to be 'it'. your dad doesn't notice you, and your brother doesn't even know you, so who can blame you for wanting to duck out?
cant say it agene ill see you when I don't want to pretend.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
.
Wings beat to overtake.
Now, above you like a fire shot
In a silent film the rush begins.
Wings fold inward, the air turrents,
Streams, as a ball swirling in a tube,
Grey bullet in the barrel,
The slide to the **** and the talons,
Make their mark before the hitch.
Soft plosives bearly sounding,
Crake, blood cupped in the claws,
From the breast and the rose
Heart, now in a tail spin,
Nostrils whine in the fall.
No jury just but a sup of the faded
Heart by one raging one.
The wilted wings are stirring
To the last as the pointed
Wingman ferries, the wholly bred,
Quarry of perfection, jolts
And jilts, and His scythe of feathers
Holds sway in the whirl.
As the God-made creature
From high heaven flies
The mourning dove must die.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
separate
body and soul scars and make
believe 1000 bright stars in the sky
a spiral of melencolie
painted up with fony smiles an image I hold in my mind
that bandged up the crake in my heart it's so prefectly temporary
a wound left unhiled alldough the tears have now dryd
all I can do is pretend
someone else
something else
somewhere else
the dark shadow feads away till my dime eyes reconnets with logic
& you're the pain in my heart agian
I can't just make it ** away....
I can't make it go away
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 2:37 PM UTC
time is limited these days.
those one admired in youth
devastate us now.
can we know all things, we
only went twice ?
the back road was
littered, rather blustery.
today
clouds blow in, leaves
crake and groan.
i say again, a darker green.
sbm.
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
See the ranting of the man,
They think he's angry with them.
He finds it's hard to see in the wind,
Overshadowed by the fearsome rind.
He never falls asleep
Villagers think he is blind
He never walks with a flock
Dragons knock; wolves mock.
He'd like to listen to one crake
All night; waits for it to be awake
When the crake starts singing its song
He realizes how to stop the *chimaera.
It's his painkiller, painkiller
He doesn't need any filler
Now his heart has a thriller
He no longer wants to be a killer.
-----------------------------------------------------
*Chimaera is a mythological creature that is
a combination of lion, goat, and snake.
☾ M. E. Kuşaslan ✩
@lightinthedarknesspoetry
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 4:37 PM UTC
air cut clean.
dawn. herons crake
over.
a leaf falls.
friday morning.
sbm.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC
time is limited these days. those one admired in youth devastate us now. can we know all things, we only went twice ? the back road was littered, rather blustery. today clouds blow in, leaves crake.
i took the shorter route this morning.
sbm
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC