Long Crows Poems
Long Crows Poems. Below are the most popular long Crows by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crows poems by poem length and keyword.
-For Hades, the crow
We put you up high so the cats can't get you,
But it is futile: you will die anyway.
I know Death must come to all
But he has been forced to your side too soon;
And I know you are an omen of Death,
But even you cannot escape it.
I hope that when he sees you—
Lying there in your broken body
With your broken leg—
That he takes pity on your frail being,
And picks you up and holds you tight
And kisses you all over so that you may feel loved
For a final time.
Around us, everything lives:
And it is so quiet I can hear a slug
Trailing across the plant pot.
I am sitting here with you placed carefully on my lap,
And I watch you gently preen your feathers
Now and again. I watch the birds in the sky and I think
How unfair it is that you are grounded,
Unable to fly, whilst they take it for granted.
They say crows can remember faces
So, maybe, when I die, I will see you again
And you will recognise me;
Perhaps you will show off your new wings
And I will get to hold you once more...
But, for now, I watch you sleeping;
I watch you breathe—
I hope that you feel safe with me
And I hope you feel some comfort
Whilst you die.
A tangerine pumpkin with lid and flame.
The tangible aura of moonless night.
Bright smile of pudding pie and his acclaim.
And ridges deep, like scars that have no shame.
The narrow street with its nocturnal sight.
A tangerine pumpkin with lid and flame.
She was fancy and drop-dead drunk, that dame.
That shapeshift-Halloween, it was a fright.
Bright smile of pudding pie and his acclaim.
Funny, the crows that lined the street; the claim
that they had sight, as if the moon was bright.
A tangerine pumpkin with lid and flame.
Pop, pop, pop, pop…a fancy fall, her frame.
Who’d she tick off? The stars won’t tell; the light,
Bright smile of pudding pie and his acclaim.
Dame’s dressed in red; such was quadruple aim.
The darkness brood does tell, the street was tight.
A tangerine pumpkin with lid and flame.
Bright smile of pudding pie and his acclaim.
The songbirds are plentiful where I live in the middle of oaks
I had four birdfeeders, but white tail deer slammed into them
Until they broke into bits, for they were plastic and did not survive
As they were being deer-bashed against the trunk of these oaks.
To discourage the deer, I bought new metal bird feeders.
It brings in up to eight cardinals, and a blue jay daily.
Wrens, robins, sparrows, and wood peckers arrive before nine.
Rat-a-tat sound on my oak bark; I enjoy watching their heads bob.
My forest is full of tweets, peeps, whistles, coos, and caws
There is a huge the influx of crows, which I also welcome
Playful squirrels are fun to watch, but their fingers are too deft
Daily they unscrew the tops of my bird feeders, laughing at me.
Allowing all of the bird feed to land on the ground, in a clump.
Bottoms of feeders roll into driveway, so I have to drive around them.
A plethora of activity, a menagerie of lively animals including rabbits.
Sassy squirrels chastise me when I come out; thinking it is their yard.
Lovely days are what I dream for
Every single day
Lovely days are going for walks
And stumbling across little things that make me smile
Like beautiful flowers
Lovely days are getting up
And seeing the sun shining in the sky
Lovely days are I dream for
Every single day
Lovely days are sitting by the ocean
And watching kayakers, paddle boaters and others
Having fun on the ocean
Lovely days are seeing the wildlife out and about
Like seagulls, crows, Canadian geese
And sometimes even geese
Lovely days are what I dream for
Every single day
And what I will keep on dreaming for
every single day
so lets go make every day a lovely day
Smell of ashes
the taste of burnt toast,
complexion’s dark
as crows yet
a familiar scent
that lingers
in every empty
mug.
Cold weather
is my body’s ditzy
enemy.
Coats, scarves,
and others embrace never
suffices, yet I still cover
up just to concede
a frivolous
anxiety buried
in my skin.
Frosty compassion
leads a search for dire
need of temptation
within unkempt warmth
of liquid lush brewing
anew into a cup of
addiction.
Bitter is sweet,
sweet is bitter.
Its nature
so capricious meddling
from hate to love,
from love to heart-
ache, from heart-
ache to anger,
from anger to
loss.
Coffee’s taste
attached to every
memory, not once
absent,
a friend, my desire,
$2.49 a cup of cheap
watery indulgence
draws me back
more and more.
My loyal comfort,
as I take a sip,
I indulge
endlessly
I have collected strange things…
In this obscure life…
I have placed them in
Little Black Onyx Boxes old and ornate covered
inlaid with exotic stones, metals forged unknown
These objects are memories from an odd land
gathered during the wages of a ruined life…
Throughs of inner realms at night
I have taken each one out to study
to ponder
to obsess
and to plunder!
Each a strange thought of design!
Each a past regret or greatest fear!
Of my dreams never dreamt never felt
in this fleeting space are made real.
Objects of desire or dismissed images,
imagery that sits
on dusty shelves
of ornate ornaments…
Hide n obscure abstract views, a sacrament
a belief in profane dichotomy
blurred burning
black imagery…
Photos strobe of a vast city…
In overdrive a fine morticians twine
used to sew my dead eyes shut
A ring, symbolic of love
a union, broken misplaced trust
all these odd ornate objects
are needed in my oblique memory!
In a shadowbox, shells from smoking guns,
letters of deceit
bloodstains on fine pure white
volumes vile, full of my own inner pain
pour PURE rain…
Burnt things left under the harsh stars
I pick each up dust them off
Layered in a vermilion of rust
I placed them in rows of memories!
I feel the gathering of crows
a murder in memory
watching as a witness
Of strange thoughts
as these things gather
in my night!
Little onyx black boxes all inlaid with toxic metals
cold stones from Oddlands of the unknown.
Each image is a bitter memory left unshorn…
… each stored in little black boxes…
A hole in the head shooting pain trembles
nightshades coldly down the spine
a soul lost in the land of the living
carried away in darkness
flying inside dark clouds holding just a dream
Distant thunder roars lightening splitting cracks
sure as the crow flies crawling opens hells gates
dark jewels of the night
charred remains churning in a cauldron
boiling goodness tears of thoughts
Piercing screams spawning nightmares
holding a promise once made
walking in a valley amongst the dead
shadows now smile hearing animals scream
as the moon plays silver dancing light
Dreams snatched away from reality
the crow calls echoes in silence
victims of this world howling over and back
tragedy cries in their pain and suffering
eyes seeking light
whispers through the branches
a heather bleat creature of the night calls
Haunted by humans chained to the earth
awaiting shadows and sunsets
a cursed banshee wails supernatural screams
from everywhere and nowhere
Mind numbing winds passing through
a white silhouette shredded shroud
around a heart entombed
in agonies' twilight shades clouds darken
storms brewed stirring specters chase the wind
Cold rains become lost tears
the willow weeps in eternal sorrows
a lament for the dead
as the silver crescent moon smiles goodbye
Blends in clear as day after sunrise
forgotten in a valley of unrest
death bell's toll out from the past
onyx feathered crows call painful cries
Forever seeking heaven's gate now sealed
that promised choice was lost ages ago
only burning hellfires
or cold earthworms await
Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler
Melting snow,
Cool breeze,
Crowded crows diving in a row,
Return of the unfriendly bees,
Colorful rainbow in the sky,
And the strange songs of the talkative parrot;
These are signs that Spring is around the corner.
Again, she has defeated Queen Winter,
With that incredible show in the parking lot.
She is now wearing the crown and three ostentatious rubies;
Oh my golly! She can also poise better than all of the beauties
Gathered during the Ms. Universe beauty pageant.
Sigh of Lent,
Palm Sunday,
Cheerful children at play,
Green gardens decorated with confetti,
Happy humming birds flying high,
And the young grand-mothers in bikini;
These are hints that the celebration
Will commence early this spring.
One duck is already being trailed by an offspring,
Meanwhile, the zebras are being chased by one peckish lion,
Which can no longer run like a supersonic train.
Amidst all of that, somebody is going to have fun.
Copyright© March 2009, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of many poetry books:
“Sparkles of Love and Etincelles de l’Amour”
“Mounts And Valleys of Love”
As a strawberry sun rises
Changing clouds to cobalt
The coolness of the morn delights
Before the sun's assault
Thyme was in the herb garden
Before the sun arose
He brushed against Rosemary
Came away morose
The sun changed to clear radiance
Illumination bright
White clouds now are wispy fanbrushed
So still no kite takes flight
A few crickets chirp jiminy
Crows caw from their far perch
Other birds are silent, waiting
Nestled deep in their Birch
A dove coos in the distant woods
His coos a welcome sound
Other birds are silent as snow
When it floats to the ground_
Such a precious quiet time alone
A few minutes of repose
The the day of duty overtakes
With life's work overdose
Just a few minutes out on the porch
Out On The Porch At Dawn
Written by: Sara Kendrick, USA
Slowly the apricot sun rises
After spring's storm of yesterday
Pear blossoms quietly await sun's warmth
And bumble bees delightful play
A cold breeze stirs the bamboo wind chime
As roosters break the quiet morn
With crows calling sun wake up
Another day is suddenly born
In this quiet and stillness given
Before coyotes stir and yelp
Help me to be the person needed
One with spiritual and wisdom's depth
Let me be a solid anchor
Planted not in earth's crumbling sands
But anchored upon the solid Rock
A place not made by man's hand
Show me how to live each moment
In a way pleasing to Your commands
As I go about my daily chores
And answer my families' demands