Raven's Curse
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: A Raven's Curse
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: February/2015
On a late January, (winters night), when once wake eyes now sleeping, dogs now howling, and cats now screaming -
And the lull of a torrentially rainy season - has sink to a
drought -
Now to realize that the harsh
wet winter, so glum and bitter,
has vaporized to mere droplets,
is dreadful -
A obnubilate fog, thick and eery, persist to float quietly,
gloomy and dreary -
While seven giants, stand
rising with arms to the sky - statuesque, beneath ominous
clouds.
The creepy, crackling noise from (tree giants), statue still,
came forth, a pendulum sway -
rocking back and forth, so dark,
so grim - shaking through gale
force winds, to activate
hidden fears-
Through the darkness, and
cold black starless night, waylay
a fowl, in the shadowed - black in the blue moon light -
dark shadows crawl through
giants maze - something restless
in a particle haze -
Yet, nervously thy stand,
to a solitary voice/ gurgling
from the arms of giant trees?
"What is this?" that speaks no voice?
" What gurgle's and lurks, in
giant redwood trees -
Who are you? A dream, a nightmare, to wake from sleep -
Time slips fast, as seconds go past, and the gurgle voice, fades
to a soft audible, a hear-less
hush -
Thy dour howling winds,
witness a baneful gurgling
of such, in giant trees -
Suddenly, the mysterious
noise fades in the melancholy,
and despondent night -
Sleep calling, thy walk away,
in the dense dawning light -
So I go to thy dwelling door,
and hear a baleful croaking -
which - awakened fears
once-more.
And the voice resonated
loudly, through the arms of giants -
thy feet still - stuck!
like quicksand -
caught in the shadows
of a ghost, black as night,
croaking, in giant trees....
giant redwood trees.
And the minacious, wicked sounding "call," cloaked a steady sense of foreboding.
Screams ring out, in the
melancholy, and despondent
night -
What do you want? You are
not real!" I lament -silently, amid haunting whispers, sorrow
and grief -
The saturnine voice echoed clearly, through the thick fog so dreary. Whispering -
"A solitary Raven, perched in giant trees, giant redwood trees,
is a fowl of mystery; a premonition
bird of black, dark as shadows."
"Wait!" Art thou the omen,
to bring forth glowering presentiment?
No acceptance shall thy render to this invisible imagination.
Thy dream no more, thus,
shall not be contested -
Be there no raven!...no raven,
in giant redwood trees - be gone
no omen, decease!
So go now, in faith, thou walk
with no evil - no raven! be gone,
no omen.. decease!
Darkness, and shadows fade invisible - morrow joyful, no
shadow silhouette -
Quietly, and calm, no wind,
no storm - a lone dove fly's -
(c). copyright 2015
all rights reserved -
Copyright © Ken Jordan | Year Posted 2015
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