Short Corvus Poems

Passerine in black
Jousting for mid air order
Murder in the skies




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In the wink the suns rays turn black to silver
In molten precision 
He leaps; hopping
A mystic dance around his meal
Cloaked in glistening pitch
The whisper of each immaculate feather
brushing against the others
No more a flawless symphony could nature compose
than the sounds of a raven, being...

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RAVENOUS




The Corvus Corax,
Traditional symbol of doom.

Calculating and manipulative, 
the Raven builds her nest.

Golden branches, silver twigs,
opportunitively taken selfishly.

Groomed well from mother crow,
she sings beautifully for all to admire.

Golden eggs, an heir and spare,
solidify the future.

The Corvas Corax,
Destroys the Forest...Nevermore....

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there’s no face appearing in the window
as I stare through the whiskyfalls 
of the sun made of cucumbers
that ticks in my sternum like a deathwatch
so where’s my sagacity? – 
– lost somewhere in the pink furry mirrors
hearkening ill, weirdly and sinister
baffled from holding itself a hostage
running wild in the power sockets
the same inside out in the eye sockets
crying out loud from the acient books
of lamentations 
and corvus breakdowns...

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