Best Cawed Poems
after The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe
(Is this microphone turned on? Testing one two, Poe was a dip, Poe was a dip, testing.)
Once upon a daydream, faintly
whilst I watched the boob tube, quaintly
Jerry Springer 'bout half over when I nodded off to sleep.
Show was boring, soon was snoring
when suddenly I heard my bell ring.
Outside it was really pouring,
pouring there outside my door,
perhaps a preacher to ignore,
I'd be a beanbag chair and nothing more.
(By the way, this is the reader's digest version folks)
Beanbag pretense wasn't working,
freak outside just kept on twerking
(Wait! I forgot what that means)
then through my window climbs this guy who looks a bit unstable.
He stops and stares as though a zombie,
asked him could he be from Bombay,
I think his jeans were Abercrombie.
I showed him kindly to the door,
pointed clearly to the exit,
pushed him onward 'cross the floor,
he stood there shaking, nothing more.
"Now look" I cawed with all my muster,
"Get this through your thick head buster,
Spongebob's coming on soon and I've still to take my nap."
He looked at me with subtle smile,
those crazy eyes had me beguiled,
[karma's spanked me with this trial]
on my knees (Ack! I don't have knees)
on my knees I now implored
would he please just take a hike.
I then got up from off the floor,
he stared and said...
"uh, I gotta tinkle."
EPILOG
That's right folks. You now have the edited, abridged version of what really happened back in 1845. Now I know what you're thinking - 'Gotta tinkle'? But it doesn't rhyme! Well, I can't help it folks that's what he said. And it may explain why he decided to turn things around to make me look like the nitwit in his classic poem, The Raven.
This is Barrymore T Raven III, signing off
*did they have TV in 1845? Hmmm...
Categories:
cawed, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
She was awakened in the midnight hour
By the sound of falling rain
And as she looked towards the tower
She heard the raven caw of shrill refrain
Was it calling for the reaper
To take another soul away?
Or was he calling for the keeper
of the tower, to still the bells that sway?
And then she went back to bed
As rain and raven echoed in her head
And as she fell deep into sleep
The raven through her window peeked
And when the morning came
They found her lifeless in the bed
The reaper had heard the raven's call
And left the ghoulish imprint of his pall
And then the bells began to toll
As sorrow crept up on the window pane
For the reaper had taken yet another soul
And yet the raven cawed again....
----
Categories:
cawed, death,
Form:
Rhyme
Urges ushered Est’bel out of her abode –
a cottage cobbled together from cobwebs and clapboard –
and she scuttled forth,
her nesty hair tousled
by a leaf-laced breeze
In her bony hands she clutched
dregs of a nightmeg broth
in a porcelain jar stoppered
by a coffinwood shard
Her bare feet stepped on thorny twigs
but she felt them not,
for her soles had been hardened
by countless treks across hot coals
washed up from stygian shoals
Leftward she turned,
meandering down the narrowing, twisting path,
where uprooted mandrake tendrils
clutched at her anorexic ankles,
while ravens pecked at her frayed follicles,
until she snatched a leaf
from a passing philodendron,
folding it into a tri-cornered hat
and plunking it atop her pate,
rakishly askew
Dewey sap from twisty-trunked trees
dripped onto the nape of her gnarly neck
and a raven on a nearby branch
cawed his amusement,
earning him her owlish scowl
She spied a row of rotting poppies
and plucked a bunch,
sticking them into a crevice of her hat,
then stepped onto a walkway of cracked shale slabs,
which shunned her footprints,
replacing them with snail streaks
to mark her passing
She made her way to a listing tombstone
atop a gnarled knoll encased in gelid moonbeams
and fringed by shushing sawgrass
She took a small vial of indigo glass
from beneath her shabby shawl
and pulled out a stopper made
from a finger bone of an unfaithful lover
whose pickled tongue hung from a
silver chain around her neck
She poured the contents of the vile vial
into the porcelain jar and
listened to the fizz.
It subsided into sloshes,
reminding her of the sounds
issuing from demented shells
snatched from the forlorn shores
of stygian shoals
She gaped at the sky
as an owl flew past the moon,
stirring the dark craters,
which broke up into swirling spirals,
sucking lunar beasts beneath the surface,
where they dissolved in the ceaselessly sliding sands
And Est’bel raised the jar to her lips
and drank a toast to the moon,
and awaited the enshadowed shades
drifting down the snail-slimed pathway,
propelled by a leaf-laced breeze
Categories:
cawed, magic, moon, night, woman,
Form:
Free verse
Standing at the tavern door,eyes dark and brooding
Neath his floppy hat, stared into the crowded room,
A Raven flew from his shoulder settling in rafters high,
He smiled a sardonic smile and ordered a mug of ale.
All turned to look at this dark eyed traveller tall,
His leather boots dusty ,cloak trimmed with mud,
And from his belt around his coat hung a dirk long
No one thought to say a word they tried to look small.
Around the smoke filled room his gaze did wander
Settled on a crowd of rowdy sea going lads noisly
Drinking ale and rum and telling bawdy tales,
Just back from foreign voyage across the seven seas.
Within their midst a vision sat with a smirk on ruby lips
Long hair framed her face like waves of swelling sea,
Like kelpie mane, ran that hair ,her eyes like deep sea green,
And at once his dark eyes shone beneath that floppy hat.
The night wore on, the air grew warm, the raven fluffed his wings
From somewhere a shot rang out lodging in rafters deep,
Laughter raucous and shrill cut across the misty room,
Silence fell heavy among the gathered crowd.
He slowly turned his head in the direction of the rowdy lads
Dark eyes flashed as stepped towards where they sat,
As one they rose and laughed in his face,swords drawn,
In his hand a wooden staff and they laughed no more.
Faces stunned into disbelief at what they had seen,
Around his feet six men lay still blood seeping from their wounds,
He turned on his heel and slowly went through the door,
The Raven cawed, spread his wings as he flew out the door.
Standing by his horse the sea going beauty waited patiently,
She smiled as he approached with a swagger and dark eyes flash
He tipped his floppy hat and beckoned with outstretched hand,
She went to him in full embrace held him like a band.
They travelled the land, the sea faring beauty and the dark eyed man,
Their tale told throughout the fair sun kissed land,
From village to village and taverns where seafaring folk met,
The legend grew of the Dark Eyed traveller and his mermaid bride.
Andrew Provan McIntyre © 2015.
Categories:
cawed, adventure, analogy, beach, drink,
Form:
Ballad
The morn dawned bright, with autumnal light,
the cool air was crisp and clean:
overnight snows that fell, as all could tell,
had changed the country scene!
Sounds heard shrill, through air coldly still,
birthed echoes, sharp and long,
whilst the raucous crow, who hates the snow,
cawed out his doleful song!
In sham disguise, Fall will surprise,
with its seasonal turn-around.
Whilst one day is hot, another is not,
so its diversities abound!
The sun rising pale, over hill and dale,
had little of warmth to share.
Much later that day, when skies turned gray,
thick snows fell everywhere.
When the river showed, it too had slowed:
it’s waters starting to freeze.
In a red clouded sky, clouds drifting by:
becalmed, the evening breeze.
When midnight neared, the skies had cleared,
and nature offered thrills.
with Northern Lights, being such wondrous sights,
she banished autumn chills!
When the moon is full, it exerts a pull;
we’re drawn to the great outdoors.
With such delight, seen in the bright moonlight,
we’ll prowl through forest and moors.
After coyote cries, under starlit skies,
put a nervous grouse to flight,
a fox on a prowl, and snowy white owl,
were seen in the moon’s bright light!
Though warmly dressed, we received protest,
from our arthritic bones.
In the biting cold, and becoming old,
they all give forth with groans!
At the sunset hour, when the skies are dour,
we see signs of winter’s ire.
With no time to waste, we return in haste,
to sit by the warming fire.
Such is the way, of a November day,
it’s intent is never known.
Whether cold or hot, and like it or not,
to its foibles we are prone!
Rhymer. November 14th, 2016.
Categories:
cawed, nature, seasons,
Form:
Rhyme
It was in the dark of night
When the owls cried and the ravens cawed.
That’s when the candle lit dinner for two was served,
Spread on the red tablecloth of savoury sight.
Mumbling whispers of love breached the silence
In the eclectic electricity of brushing bodies,
Announcing the passion to come of our fiery essence,
But the dawn will drown the expectation.
The stained plates with sticky crumbs of broken love,
The pan with the fried mess of an uneaten passion.
Littered the kitchen sink as hope sunk in the hopeless oblivion.
There’d be cleansing as the brush wiped away the sticky fervour.
Of the love that never was,
Of the dream that was an illusion,
But the two plates still bear the crack and mark of that fallen love.
Categories:
cawed, allusion, emotions, hurt, lost
Form:
Free verse
The Whisper of Love
The mild spring wind whispered: I love you and stroked
my face… but then it clouded over the wind hoarsely
shouted: I love you. I fled indoors but it howled nonstop
by the French window: I love you, and I held my hands
against ears as not hear.
Angrily I hollered back: go away I never cared for you,
your obsessive love is too much to bear, strangling me.
But I tell not truth, sweet Marilyn, I love you more now
than before; the wind became a mild zephyr and said:
I know, I know my darling.
The almond tree said: I thought it was me you loved,
my flowers you admire. But you are deflowered now.
I said. This is the rudest thing I ever heard said the oak
and shook it crown so sadly that a crow family fell out.
and cawed crossly at me.
Don´t you get I said I love you all you´re nature the air
that I breathe the food I eat and the grass I walk on.
But the olive tree spoilt my words by pretentiously
saying: one, who loves all, loves no one, and eastward
the crow family flew.
Categories:
cawed, devotion, humorous, lost love,
Form:
Blank verse
There was a dense fog upon the land
not a fit night for animal nor man...
the moon did change its silvery view
replacing it now was a blood red hue....
There just beyond thicket of the marsh road
lies the endless tar pits of bubbling black
It has been told that should one fall in it ~
There would definitely be no turning back....
Oh, how the populace did dread passing the pits
for all knew what dwelled within it...
Goblins dared not cross over it... and the vampire bats
would not go anywhere near it...
Even the witches feared this Halloween night,
as they packed their caldrons and potions...
preparing their broomsticks readying for flight...
too escape the diabolical one, known as Dark Blight.
Alley cats sat on fences and drank black draught, tonight
thence, sang they a harrowing song full of fright...
As the draught turned their multi-colored coats
to the colors of pitch black midnight...
The domesticated dogs remembered
their kindred brother wolves....
Soon they gave chase to lost souls,
while howling at the man in the moon...
So it began... with large boney fingers liken to ashy white talons
Dark Blight emerged scatching its way to the surface... its massive black shoulders
bearing a skull revealing eyes which burned
liken to red hot coals with yellow pupils set a glow...
With a sinister grin he did appear from within the pitch black pits
pentagrams and talismans were etched upon his sinewy back....
such slimy black skin mirroring centuries of horrors from many Halloweens past.
Oh, indeed there would be no rest for the weary wanderers this night...
Unless, a champion should appear in time to put things a right....
until then Dark Blight would continue to pass through the night; slithering upon his
belly ~
all the while leaving a dark trail as red as raspberry jelly...
Even the Ghouls knew and would stir clear of the sweet sticky pools
The Gnomes stood careful guard over homes,
whilst watching over all babes and fools....
For such tender flesh made the Dark Blight's lips drool...
The crows cawed thrice and the hoot owls hid their eyes....
Oh, the night was nothing nice, as blood chilled like ice....
Who would put a stop too the dastardly Blight...?
Categories:
cawed, dark, children, halloween, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
At the sound of the opening door
The crows cawed a warning
A stray cat perched upon the fence
Meowed to greet this morning
The warm sticky fog touched each pore
Made life uncomfortable
How early in spring does summer
Appear so formidable
Each plant contained within a pot
Cries out for moisture please
Like works upon the edited page
Call for a similar reprise
From old, old themes can lines read new
To modern generations
Let my lines ring within their hearts
A message to nations
The sound of thunder marked the time
But no lightning was seen
Like a comet always has a tail
Youth dream their awesome dreams
Some fall by the wayside consumed
Like seed pecked by those crows
Let God's message be heard by all
His love for man disclose
Finis'
Formidable__arousing fear, dread or alarm or inspiring fear or respect
through impressively large, powerful, intense or capable
Reprise__a return to the first theme or subject
A recurrence, renewal, or resumption of action
Categories:
cawed, life,
Form:
Rhyme
They killed her lover. She just could not forget.
The raven circled thrice around the old oak,
But settle silently on her wide shoulders.
Dark was the raven, dark the woman’s dress
Dark the environment, all dark except for
The glowing sanguine hair that fluttered in the breeze.
She stood tall in front of the old sparsely lit castle.
No eerie sound echoed in the dark corridors,
No black candles lit any of the bleak rooms.
Only ravens cawed huskily as they flew
Around the tall turrets or rested on ugly gargoyles.
The dark woman moved towards the main door.
Her eyes glowed in a flaming carmine power.
She looked up towards the ugly low clouds.
Power exuded from her and the storm began.
Electricity snaked down and hit the upper balustrades.
Hellish fire sprang up and soon the castle was in ruins.
Revenge completed, she turned and walked silently away.
One day they’ll burn her at a stake. She shrugged.
She was not afraid of death. The crow cawed hoarsely.
Categories:
cawed, scary,
Form:
Free verse
The gleaming crow, a treasure before her eyes
Her flirtatious wings dripping out behind her
Like lush curtains they swayed in the wind
Her coiled claws, held to her chest, scraped one another
She cawed to him
I love you I love you
His fragmented eyes looked back
The not yet dried glue dripping from their edges
He said to her
This wounded stallion
The lasso tight around his thick neck
His once free main weighted down
He said to her
I loved what you stole, what you cannot replace
She looked at him, he saw himself in her gaze, the stallion
He saw himself in the blood beneath him
Its shimmers cried betrayal
He saw himself
His shriveled form, his broken eyes
She said to him
You will learn to love me more
He looked at her, she looked at him
She saw herself in the waters of her toil
She saw her beauty, the beauty he must see
He looked at her, her inky talons plotting their mischief
He said to her
I am not yours to claim, you took my world, I am no more
I will rebuild your world
She said
With my hand
He heard claw
He stood above the red waters
He remembered the rubble of his old home, the walls he had built
She had torn them down and claimed him, his wings clipped
She loved him when he flew
He was no more
Soon she would learn what he has lost
She would lose what he cannot
Her need
They always do
All of them
© Samir Georges
2009
Categories:
cawed, people, philosophylove,
Form:
Free verse
—The sense of sound—
He was curious, he opened the door,
he heard a scream, then he yelped.
He suddenly banged the door,
someone cawed from behind the door,
it changed to crackle crackle,
then became an incessant echo.
He again opened the door and heard,
the roomful echo changed to murmuring stream,
then turned into rumbling violin. He whined
for annoying sound, then he whooped, then
he yelled, finally he smiled and yodeled
for his curiosity made him aware of
many different sounds there are
in the behind closed door.
Categories:
cawed, fun, humorous, imagination, poetry,
Form:
The wicked crow stared through my window
Cawed and beckoned with teasing eyes
Letting his beak tap lightly
Soaring through the darkness
Bringing with him Death
To steal a life
Take a soul
Burry
Me
Categories:
cawed, death, fantasy,
Form:
Nonet
At the sound of an opening door
crows cawed a warning
A stray cat perched upon the fence
meowed good morning
The warm sticky fog touched each pore
Made life uncomfortable
How early in spring does summer
Appear so formidable
Each plant contained within a pot
Cries for moisture please
Like works upon the edited page
Call a similar reprise
From old, old themes can lines read new
to modern generations
Let my lines ring within their hearts
a message to nations
Categories:
cawed, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
Maybe a serial killer, the crows cawed to each other.
This was agreed upon by the vole and the vole’s mother.
I think he’s just a great horned owl, a good guy, I said.
However, I did not know all the murderous books that he read.
He studied forensics, and he took apart his own pellets.
The books he read pushed diabolical ideas down in his gullets.
He was a cereal killer that simply could not stop.
He devoured all of our Rice Krispies – Snap, Crackle, Pop!
Categories:
cawed, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form:
Rhyme