A vagabond of despond
With nowhere left to belong
He wandered beneath the sun above
Still searching for a tender soul to love
For so long, he flew from place to place
Hoping to find a heart that would embrace
The fragile soul he carried within
The wounded heart beneath his skin
But rejected and neglected time after time
He slowly lost his reason to fly
He slept through the warmth of the daytime
And lay beneath the stars at nighttime
Alone with his sorrow, hidden in the shadow
He thought that he was better off alone
The dove that once searched for someone to love
Slowly grew darker beneath the moon above
Down below, he became cold as snow
The once soft dove, now a terrifying crow
The only thing he could do was bow
And pray to God to free him from his woe
When of food we did talk
she would balk
of course
to feed on horse
and quail
at tasting snail
but who knew
squirrel stew
was taboo
and don't you know
altho'
I'd never cadge a badger
eating crow
was a no-no
thus dining out
was an ordeal
for there's no knowing
what could be our meal
as going hungry is not fun
when it came to the crunch
I've had ants bat and snake
for lunch
The crow calling -
‘I need something. I don’t know what.’
It’s a sound from my childhood.
He’s still calling.
‘Haven’t you found it yet, Crow?’
‘No. Don’t expect to either.’
Vow of ashes, please burn
all the shadow alive,
Remember the giraffe was blind,
Cold silent story...
no journalist was around for its
but rumours still goes around
Yes during that's night before the ocean
becomes the graveyard,
Many colours were promising
Just like the story
Of exile.just remember
some truth doesn't bleed
Because the curse water forgive no one
Yes the beauty you see was once
a reminder of what left
But to be honest,
Many believe that it's just a myths
because we all know the story in different forms
Yes stolen immediately just after birth
Just remember
our Hearts are meant to be a
home of love
But to survive ones must pay their sins
with death, because a blood debt must be
Repaid with blood
The sky is blood red
The common bird is the crow
Human flesh is lunch
an old crow hobbles
upon stoned driveway
seeking dropped seedlings
Oh just shut up, you loud-mouthed crow.
Tell me something that I don’t know.
Like ~ when's the day on which I'll die,
and if there's anyone who'll cry,
or wave my wretched soul goodbye.
nature's guardians
born with good traits and perform
cleaning and killing
crows real intellects
blessed with face recognition
leave gifts and repay
we must like a crow, and learn to live together, we accept the truth. we live like a crow, it doesn't hide its own food, learn a life lesson.
A crow of many colors
told a peacock without hue,
"We'll wed and we'll be lovers.
We'll walk on grassy dew.
With all the children we'll discover,
we won't know what to do!"
I heard it was a ground hog and a raccoon
loud angry screeching and wailing woke us up for the day
the morning is usually a lot more quiet
this is the country
crow hag races toward the fight
if anyone will involve themselves it is her
the rest of us clear a path
she is more forceful than a WWII general
she is wearing an orange cloak today
I glimpse it as she races forward
what is on her head?
maybe a kerchief? someone suggests
We do not put anything past her
crow hag rules this forest and the swamp
an orchestra leader
the bull frog dares not croak without her permission
The crow arrived before the sunrise,
black wings dissolving inside the fog,
as if the morning itself
had forgotten how to exist.
The world was silent except for grief.
Even the trees stood still,
holding dead leaves
like old letters never answered.
I walked through the cold field alone,
carrying entire winters inside my chest.
There are sadnesses so deep
they no longer cry —
they simply become part of the weather.
The crow watched me carefully.
Not with fear.
Not with mercy.
But with the recognition
of another wounded creature surviving the dark.
And for one brief moment,
inside that endless gray mist,
I felt less abandoned
by the universe.
— Juliana Hoffmann Liska
If there's one bird, a handfull
Of goodwill, out to
Casual tossed by you
Should be, should be
None better, boy, my crow self.
Good with faces - best!
Months on who'll invest
Nay, years, time in
A friend" hop, here I am, hop!"
You'll see. You'll see.
Fetid, smelly crow
struts across the yard. He pops
to his own drawn bath.
A modern Haiku 3-5-3 words invented by Collum and is called a Lune..
iridescent crow walks
fence between flower and vegetables....
mockingbird bravely chases
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