Best Raven Poems | Poetry

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The Raven Has Fled- Part Two by Behm, Kurt Philip
The Raven Has Fled- Part One by Behm, Kurt Philip
Summer Memories Of Love Within The Seasons Of Our Lives, A Collaboration With Vladislav Raven by Lindley, Robert
The Raven, Sequel - Part 1 by LLewellyn, Titus
Hungry Raven by Villanueva, Angel
The Raven Caw by Babbit, DM
To a Raven by Mays, Carol
Gray Wolf Silently Waits For the Raven by Roper, Eve
Rant And Raven by Tones, Raven
Told The Raven To Hush by Chiri, Brenda

View all new Raven Poems

The Best Raven Poems

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Raven Dreams

I flew alone in the white winter night
Cold winds and ice deep within my weary fright
In the night my mind in the darkest of dark
Death was close, close to my lonely heart
The tomb at the ready
Even falling apart
Some would say this is fine art
Or better yet Art at his finest…

Wrapped in winters black roped plaque
All I wanted was to lie down and rest
In peace and upon a widows breast
For then we could know each other
Pains shared, blood expressed
Oh Cassandra 
You are an angel divine
Winters mist and love sublime

Umbrellas to shield us from our earthly fears
Of natures whims and weather so ghastly grim
I turn my head, staring into the past
Your breasts of life make me gaze on back
When I was the raven
Flying noble and high

Now all I see are empty dark skies

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

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Forbidden Castle

Crows gather around the mysterious, abandoned castle, 
Its bastions and towers drowning within a mournful silence. 
Ghostly shadows loom within the dungeons and the murder holes, 
Screams of perished souls are locked within the castle walls. 

Long it has stood there upon a mountain of tempestuous winds, 
Withholding a secret from haunting years passed. 
Stones big, dark and looming, an ancient evil lurks inside, 
Creeping through each room, an eeriness unexplained.

Each corridor discloses a tale of bloodshed on that dreaded night, 
when the devil sent his descendants to run havoc amongst the mortals. 
The bitter queen who summoned them did not live to confess the tragedy, 
She took her life, witnessing all before her slaughtered including the adulterous king.

As a child, I had heard countless legends of the forbidden castle, 
Of the torture chambers and the merciless beheading of the accused innocent. 
Many have warned, “Beware…stay away…” and now I stand before the entrance,
The devilish crows watching knowingly, as if they foresee my fate.

“Beware the snares in the dark, for Death grins, awaiting your coming…”

A special collaberation with The Silent One
Thanks for the opportunity! :)

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

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The Raving

From 2010. Narrator is Robert Gibbs, snooty White House Press Secretary.

Lay, O Lord, a curse on press men, rude and churlish, sad, obsessed men 
Who persist to query me on matters they know I must ignore. 
As I parry, neatly jinking, Tapper stares at me, unblinking; 
No doubt he is thinking, thinking Robert Gibbs is short one oar.  
Of them all, him I abhor.  

Yes, the fire is now an ember from a long-ago November  
When every media staff member bowed and scraped outside my door.  
Cocksure, I held my pressers (Helen! Old as earth, God bless her),   
Brushing off reporters—lessers, lessers who were such a bore,  
Including Jake the Tapper, whom the gods named my bête noire.
From the start, we’ve been at war.  

There! He rises, smarmy, sassy; I feel dizzy, bloated, gassy,  
Sickened, now stricken with the urge to swat this gadfly to the floor.  
As I tamp down nauseation, purge my thoughts of his castration, 
Jake the Tapper, this . . . crustacean floats a challenge like a spore, 
And it roots inside my core.  

Shaken now, I face him squarely, caustic tongue in check, just barely:  
“Scribe,” I bark, “or scrivener, hotly your aspersion I deplore.  
Blurted out while I was wrapping, in the middle of recapping,   
So to get your mates to clapping, clapping, because you're plainly sore.
Best be careful, sir,” I warn him; “You are swimming far from shore.”  
Says he louder: “Lie no more.”  

The rabble rise, and all are cheering; I stand my ground, erect and sneering,  
Mulling whether it is possible for order to restore. 
Finally, the room grows still, then someone shouts out, sounding shrill,  
“Robert Gibbs has stained his office and has much to answer for.” 
Here the rest take up the refrain: “Gibbs has much to answer for.  
He must pledge to lie no more.”  

“Leave!,” I roar, my stomach churning. “Briefing’s done, we are adjourning.” 
No one has moved when Jake starts . . . humming with a backup group of four.  
And then they laugh to underscore they will dish me out what-for   
From a slammin’ gangsta score:

Gibbsy doan wants ya fussin’ wid ‘im
Doan wants ya mussin’ wid ‘im
Wants ya to be a playa pushin’ single paya
So shut your faces ya know your places
Stay in the traces and ya’ll score some primo dope
And he’ll let ya stay inside the rope

Jake the Rapper, never droning, keeps intoning, keeps intoning
In the press room I abandoned, oh, a few months heretofore.
Ah, that shattering refrain, I shall hear it in my brain—

Copyright © Steve Grammatico | Year Posted 2016

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The Hunt

Form = Free Range Verse

The Hunt

Mans desire to hunt
Testing skills from the beginning of time
I had outfitted myself the day before
With camouflage, and all the tools of the trade
The excitement of catching my prey
Outwitting my fellow hunter a plenty
Tracking for hours and hours on end
Off I went in search of the trophy
In my jeep and down the hunters path
Being not so familiar with the terrain
I often backtracked, here and there
Moving from one place to the other
Silently and with anticipation
Looking forward to bringing home my kills
I had already a few scores to my name
Now for the final
The pièce de résistance
That made the hunt all the worth while
Bang! I got it
Hunts Tomato sauce in Isle seven

Oh how good the spaghetti dinner will be
Hope she appreciates all the fine hunting you see
I have done at Wal-Mart to make this evening show
Candles and guitar in the shimmering moonlight
The hunter so proud for being her shopping Knight!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

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Where Are You My Wolf

I've flown high, and I've flown far
I'd fly to the moon and nearest star

Above the treetops and I've flown wide
Some would say from me you try to hide

I'd fly forever and I would not never stop
Flying forever until I thought I would drop

My mission is to find my wolf ,my friend
I would search for you until the very end

For my white furred friend who is so kind
We have a connection you just can't unbind 

We share a friendly love,yes tis true
A mutual respect you have and I for you
But one day I awoke, and you did diappear
Of you being hurt ,or even worse i did fear

Then I spot you, my wolf you've been so bad
I land by you,to tell you later what a time I had

For I will let you sleep, as I peck your furry cheek
Laying my body by the paw. of the one I did seek

If you should ever again leave me can I come too
So we better understand what we both go through

Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2017

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Transition to Death - Part I

Visions of a life unseen, Moments that vanish before thee, Life progresses and I'm left behind, Death a transition of life foreseen. Today you're here, Tomorrow never seems to be, Instances of life and death, Raven of the night take flight and away! Death is calm and precise, Steady and obscure as the night, Pulling strings behind the veil, Pulling me under into the shade. Thy soul shall not awake, A tomb is now your room, Name engraved into stone, And a raven rests above your tomb. Be silent, be still, Believe, be free, Oh, raven, Take me where the shadows grieve. SC, July 10, 2017
In memory of my uncle † (June 22, 2017) † 10th place in the JULY PREMIERE CONTEST sponsored by Brian Strand

Copyright © Sek Chavira | Year Posted 2017

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The Reapers song

 The midnight moon was full of woe
 As ravens soared within its glow
 Echoes of the reaper's song
 Drift on dark clouds all night long

 She who plays is dressed in black
 and as her threnody meanders through the mist
 the caw of ravens echo back,
  On these the reaper does subsist

 Her violin sows sorrow and despair
 And reaps a river filled with tears
  Her beauty belies her deadly tune
 So sweet the sound to charm the moon
 The thickening mist obscures the moon
 Death's melody plays on, without regret
 The fallen, through the fields are strewn,
 And many more souls will pay their debt
 Contest: The Poets Shadow
 Sponsor: Greg Barden

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2017

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To a Raven

Fearless Raven, soaring in
the rich, dark chasm—
that world of shadows, echoes,
cliffs and crags chaotic,
the void of subtle stirrings in
a quintessential midnight—
Make some room for me
on your old, straight wings.
I, too, need to sense
lightning piercing stardust,
galvanizing mountains,
stoking distant thunder.
Let me catch a breath
of your pure, primeval air,
exotic and unshackling
latent, raw, unbounded.

Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2017

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Edge of Night

 The dark caress of ravens flight
  Graze the tips of distant clouds
 Where moonbeams touch the edge of night
 And mystery slips behind a shroud

 A violin mourns with pain
 And echoes through the ebon realm
 Notes adrift with sad refrains
 Scatter emotions  which overwhelm

 Two hands of the clock slowly merge
 As midnight bells begin to ring
 From the darkness ravens emerge
 Cawing as they flap their wings

 These harbingers of death and gloom
 Such dark fears they do incite
 With glint of iridescent plume
 As moonbeams touch the edge of night

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2018

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Silken Black Feathers

silken black raven gazes upon whimsical waxing moon’s shadows 7/13/2015

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015

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The iron core of the whole family
She stands with the long rooster
First crow which tears up, praying, and
Goes on laboring till the owl grave hoots
Herald the veiling darkness and darkness
Is life, and might. 
But also death and weakness.
The hoots made me feel so small when 
A child, and think of mother to soothe me,
For I had fears, and my people's fears were
Forced upon me too. 
The twain Angels 
Of life after Death!
Dream of stars, my eyes fully open 
To start
Away from my tiny world full of fairy tales
With the spider as the hero as running 
From the ghosts
Oh, Allah! Lost before standing on my feet!
I like my mom and she likes me too.
She prays Allah to grant me success
And I ask Him to forgive her, for
She’s always been my surest support
Of course she hadn’t been to school
But was a school herself. Proud 
Greedy reader, my friend, be sure that
She’s as divine as your MOST perfect mother.

Copyright © Jaafar Sadig El Waad | Year Posted 2015

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Mistaken Identity

The fields are dry
the cow is dead
yet you insist
its all in my head.

An unkindness of ravens gather
calling in trees
as vultures circle
yet you exclaim 
"Eagles! Look!"

Fields of weeds
you call wildflowers 
and love 
the tumble mustard
the bachelor button
the baby's breath
the morning glory
as you put out feeders 
for grey squirrels
calling yourself 
an environmentalist.

Copyright © Thayne Tuason | Year Posted 2016

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Ghost of the Raven

Sinister scene of a dark September sight;
Hell's horrific harridan, heralding the night.
Tangled and twisted, like taut, twirled twine;
Set upon Satan's wicked, shameful, sordid shrine.

Interred in a musty cellar deep in the earth;
A questionable life, without any worth.
Entombed in stone, imprisoned in time;
A ghost lost in a world of foulness sublime.

A cathedral lovely, it's steeple plated in gold;
Under its floors a demon, horrific stories untold.
Laid down to rest many a year ago;
Sepulcher to its sorrows, troubles and woes.

A massive stone door encrypted with ominous crest;
Leading down a corridor of perilous quest;
Anyone who would dare enter and walk down the stairs;
An incredible journey, beyond compare.

Ghost of the Raven, it's soiled tainted nest;
An edifice embodying every foul, decaying, rotting stench of death.
In this ghost's darkened, abysmal' crypt;
A squalor befitting betrayal - it's tainted carcass dripped.

As I stood in the horror of this insidious crypt;
Insanity beckoned to me as I quickly began losing, my tenuous grip.
As I gazed down that awful corridor of death;
I sensed, no I felt, the dark angel's searing, hellish breath.

Conjured from the depths of Lucifer's night,
It's evil eyes blazing, in obvious delight.
Breaking through the bonds of human desire,
Reaching for my soul, to harvest my being for his hellish fire.

Realm of darkness, fading into the morning light;
Contrasts of the netherworld, and the depths of the night.
Radiance of the dawn to dispel all my fears;
Ghosts of my conscience - yesterday's tears.


Copyright © R.A. Marschall | Year Posted 2016

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Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon is like the brain
with deep, unexplored fissures and tributaries, 
the main route well known by now.

I am walking, walking inside my mind, 
a grand canyon, a planet of canyons, a system
of planets. The exploration may become dangerous

I might lose my job, forgetting to go or losing
sight of its importance. But the job is gathering
pinyon nuts and saguaro fruits, it is the main

river, deepest cavity, how I find the unexplored
canyons and tributaries of my neighbors
and my enemies. But is it a religion, 

a reason for living. It is a marriage, for better
or worse, with all the other living. The concept
of life's brevity, temporary compared

with the time taken to carve the canyon, does
not interest me. Each moment has a weather, 
is a mirror of all other moments. The naming

of things goes on. Cliff rose and wavyleaf oak, 
new mexican locust and sagebrush among ponderosa
and pinyon pine, juniper. Once I know

who they are inhabiting the canyon, the raven's
flight is meaningful. The raven's rock cave, 
search for seed and carrion, my home and job.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

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A raven, mystical; not a bad bird; good.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015

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Silent Unholy Nights a Collaboration

A Collaboration with Marti Sutherland

Circling the table before they feast, black ravens crow
bright beady eyes darting to and fro, away they go
landing on a wounded body that has not yet died
circling the skies before they feast, dark ravens cried

On their bellies through titanic grass, slimy snakes slither
forked tongues searching for innocent prey, coming hither
Reptiles crawling from under rocks, cold-blooded and chilled
their fangs leaving lethal bites,  and another victim is killed

skulking in shifting shadows, deceitful humans lie in wait
Bearing no name, no face; beware of the wicked who hate
Brutal bashers who take what they want at the cost of life
Back stabbers living in a harsh world where hypocrisy is rife

Ravens, snakes and evil humans sit on thrones of deceit
Like black widows they feast on their mates when they cheat
They spin their lies so easily, like the sticky web of a spider
Beware you are not caught when their mouths open wider

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

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We the Ravens

rewrite of former poem

We are shiny sleek, black birds, 
don’t underestimate our wit,
we are of the corvid family, 
the most "intelligent,"

We are passerines, 
the largest of their kind,
19,000 feet up sometimes – 
look and us you’ll find-

For thirty years or more, 
we may fly upon this earth,
weighing up to 4 1/2 pounds, 
but only an ounce or two at birth-

We mimic other’s speech, 
and are among the smartest fowl,
we’re clever and we’re shrewd, 
and like a wolf, can howl,

A constable, a conspiracy, 
an unkindness – we’ve been called,
teamlng together for take-downs, 
we often make larger prey fall-

We make complex decisions, 
and love to frolic and play, 
even with 54 inch wing spans, 
we can do aerobatic tricks all day,

We nest in desert rock cavities, 
or in tall forest conifer trees, 
and high up in beach cliff crevices, 
hanging out over the coastal seas-

On land we take others’ food, 
that we’ve managed to cunningly seize,
letting others do the hard work first,  
then taking what we please-

In ancient times we fueled the myths, 
of symbols good and bad,
and though we have a wide repertoire of calls, 
Our croaking may drive you mad……

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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Raven's Night

       Winds a' blowing all around-
       So dark I cannot see,
       A figure, hush - don’t make a sound-
       That reflection can’t be me!

       The moon is rising to full extent-
       Heart pounding with poignant glee,
       A glorious night for this grand event-
       My victims come to me!

       Brain is whirling, twirling fast-
       Timing is such a key,
       Almost there, heart please do last-
       A feast awaits for me!

       Through glowing amber eyes, I spy-
       Perfect prey to be,
       I can’t help but give a sigh-
       Come, little morsels, to me!

       A raven’s form I’ve taken on-
       Upon the branch of a barren tree,
       Watching them play on a graveyard lawn-
       Soon a drinking spree for me!
       All together, what a sight-
       Laughing, not thinking to flee,
       Tipping headstones on this late autumn night-
       Never sensing the danger in me!

       I can taste the blood, can hardly wait-
       Poor souls, they can’t foresee,
       Lightning fast, they’ll meet their fate-
       Upon their necks, I’ll be!

       Ah-h-h-, quenched my thirst for another year-
       Til I rise from my coffin free,
       On All Hallows’ Eve night you should walk in fear-
       “Cause you, my next victim, might be!”

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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the elderly man and the raven

the elderly man and the raven where not the best of friends. the raven teased the old man
about his upcoming death. You will die soon the raven would say. And for a life in which
you did nothing at all.
  the old man did not reply instead he would simply sigh and carry on with the mocking
raven at his side 
   but  this was not enough for the raven for in return for all his cruelty the old man
was very kind. And the raven simply could not understand.
     then one night the old man woke with a fright. he thought of the raven and went
outside. And there all battered and bruised was the raven with little life left for it to
choose . With a little patch work the raven lived and lived to be a hundred the man lived to be very old they shared a toast on there last days at one point the raven stopped and asked curiously why?to which he simply smiled and replied because in all of us there is good inside.the raven smiled to then they closed there eyes and went to heaven together

Copyright © tifarrah miller | Year Posted 2009

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Stagnant Scarecrow

Surrounded by wheat 
maybe shadowed by pines. 
Silence is your lonesome ties. 

All alone on top of that hill 
your wood board a crutch 
drawing black birds craving your perch. 

Harassed by scorched sun in summer 
freezer burnt by the bitter wind 
known as winter's accomplice. 

Stitched lips render you helpless 
triangled hues take in reoccuring lines 
upon this old map. 

Identical auromas no scent of new. 
What about rain and the morning dew? 
It appears the straw you bleed soaks. 

Hung up high and dry 
your only onlookers that of scavengers. 
Who says misery doesn't like company? 

An exile you may be. 
Oh on that hill you stand 
willing to let others have the spoils.

Copyright © Hailey Comet | Year Posted 2015

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The Raven

The Raven
By: Aidan Gilbert

Look at the raven
So haunting, so beautiful
It stares. Unflinching

Copyright © Aidan Gilbert | Year Posted 2015

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Lost within illusions

Alright I'm always writing
About the dwellers 
The seekers 
The shadow man 
The old soul ..

Let's turn it up 
She's  lost within dreams 
The world to waken.

Became a  fairytale 
She made for her open eyes

She closed her heart 
She empty her soul 

A promise with a prayer 
She whispered to the bird's
For humans don't understand a word 
When a bird sings the words 
They keep comes out. 
Chirp chirp chirp of a beautiful song 
They sing that echo's 

Through the trees .
She build a wall 
And closed all doors 

She placed the humans.
 Behind the gray 

Of a stormy day 
Beneath her sheets within her dreams  

She became real 
Her dreams become reality 
Humans within a dream 

Exist in forms  of wild 
Free spirit 
Animals .

Some a flock of sheep 
Even a fish beneath the sea
A paired together white swans  upon  a purple sea 
Gentle creations 

An illusion within her dreams 
The creations of a world that's  oh not what it seems .

The angels visit throughout
her journey.
As she walks the patterns 

Of her dreams 
Angels comes in many forms.

The mist within your room
A face that's whiter then snow 

The foggiest surroundings 
Of many faces you use to know .

Within in a dream the awaken world 
Becomes the illusions  of dreams .

Her  adrenaline rushes throughout her body 
As she awakens to a morning sun shining 

And church bells chiming 
Humans rushing throughout
The streets 

Her heartbeat starts racing 
Her palms become sweaty 

She feels as if she suffocating within a bad dream 
Illusions within  my sleep ..

Copyright © venita Schindler | Year Posted 2016

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An Invitation To Poe's Dark Prison

An Invitation To Poe's Dark Prison

When you walk in those nether worlds
no more bikini's, no more girls.
Just darkness eating away at light
every long corridor too damn tight.

Back there, will your heart hurt
cut the bone, bleed and spurt?
Rake your corpse, waiting its rot
endless sleep give it a dark shot.

You know, mortal life is a dream
curse you wear in another stream.
Light holds you in its sad sway
follow us into a dark realm's way.

Here evil rules without a fight
ripping claws gouge out your sight.
No pain, as death rests within you
armored vicious body, all brand new.

Hidden wings sprout to let you fly
into a dark and transforming sky.
Toast if you come, may you dare
nobody leaves, all is a nightmare.

This shadow realm, holds its dark
no fire exists, not even a spark.
Fantasy swims, in its morbid way
Soul is dead yet it yearns to play.

Black deepness inhales each soul
bringing new flesh is our goal.
Dare if you must, eternity with us
eating victims we rarely discuss.

Know before you leap into our pit
we are the darkness in every fit.
We exist and blood we cry for more
deny your prayer, open our door.

Our raging master we know as Poe
blasted here, how he doesn't know.
Once blood and flesh he was graven
heart and soul ate with the Raven.

Every night he moans Annabel Lee
and each door tries his black key.
None open and he cries in sad rage
why, O' why hold me in this cage?

Then to our blood thirsty delight
Poe bellows, we eat flesh tonight.
Then he mounts a red, fiery throne
sits there gnawing on an arm bone.

Now we wait your first hungry urge
the ache for flesh starts to surge.
Weeping will never stop its spasms
flesh waits in these hellish chasms.

Poe now wakes his Raven to guide
you have not a safe place to hide.
We feel joy as your heart goes black
soon your beast will be on track.

Tonight you'll be his Annabel Lee
your soul he holds never to free.
Soon you will forget that sad place
his touch makes hideous your face.

A door opens, we hear your flight
your arrival, his greatest delight.
Yet again he will dine with you
rotten flesh you'll both then chew!


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

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As I start to write, the music softly plays,
In my gloomy chamber, with candles a glow,
Black wax dripping down, like forgotten days,
The raven’s quill that clouds and castles draws.

Incense giving off a scent of sandalwood,
And the wine, the poison from the East,
Give me thoughts that Even Seraphs would,
Yet the tender beauty sleeps within the beast.

And then the whispers come, from the shadow lands,
To give me the words, bright and eloquent,
Soft and tender thoughts like my dearest’s hands,
And my quill shall move till the ink is spent.

As the dawn arises, I’m ready to rest,
Among silk and velvet, on my mistress’s breast.

Copyright © Max Corvus | Year Posted 2015

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The Wounded

They all sleep
Or weep
In hospital beds
Or in prison dregs

Pain and sorrow
Missed tomorrows
Yesterday's wishes gone
Tomorrows become undone

I miss them all
Who will be first?
To that last road that ends
Where a new life begins

In Disneyland

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017