The ravens come
in a flock of dark winged hums,
rushing spatter of clustered migrations done
hanging on the weather fluctuations spun/
Black and bold ebony swarthy struts
large bodies birded scruffs,
scavengers of leftover seeds, treats and nuts
bantering loud and indiscreet sound cuts.
Field strewn emerging caws
hover in the trees with pointed claws
resounding distant screeching over all
yielding to the darkness as it falls.
Poe heard their resonating scratch
upon the ear's distinctive latch
and in his horror wrote the poem to match
life's breath and heartbeat snatched.
Whispering a silence longed for
he marked and recorded every score
for you and me the reader's very core
he quoth the ravens never more.
Categories:
birded, allusion,
Form: Rhyme
One wrong trust
With dagger, my heart got thrust
I died not, but got lost
Become a living ghost
Lost in trust
Enemy playing friend
Banana cloth tossed on my destiny
Wanting my demotion to trend
Infected me with a flue
Then rifled me to the blue
Birded away with no clue
With nothing than the left shoe
Took refuge at the mountains
Mountains with healing fountains
Rinsed me to rebirth
Applied my mechanism with gracious grease
Came to mind a song by KSA
" Appreciation modúpé
Oníbú ore, bàbá gb'opé mi"
Categories:
birded, trust,
Form: Ballad
Falling leaves in autumn through the air sail
The chestnuts hit the ground like a thundering hail
The willows poplars and birches sing an old tale
Of a billows and seas and kraken giant whale
The sky is clear during the night
In naming the constellations children delight
Moon shines on with mysterious almost eerie light
Even do connected to the body soul seems to take flight
The birded lizard of thousand spikes leads to ethereal
To absolutely surreal
Your brain extending you can feel
When at the gates of time you feel his seal
The pyramid like I’m so found of mentioning is not just a tomb
For spirit it is a womb
To the soul it is not dark room
When to us the corps smells awful the soul rising smells like surreal perfume
The soul divider takes its path
Imbued with math
In out world the spirit will take the bath
The last fundamental place to which key spirit will hath
This action simple enough is
The soul will feel divine mathematical bliss
When it lives the ground to unveiled abyss
As it continues to increase behind its surreal wall true essence of soul is
Categories:
birded, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme