Poe's Raven
The raven was not a person of prolixity
In fact a word sleuth would be in a fixidy
To rely on the verbosity of Poe's friend
For the production of syno- and antonyms
'Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.' '
Prolixity: extended to great unnecessary or tedious length;
long and wordy.
poem by Elmer Jennings

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The Raven
The raven
Lead vocal: alan parsons, leonard whiting
The clock struck midnight
And through my sleeping
I heard a tapping at my door
I looked but nothing lay in the darkness
And so I turned inside once more
To my amazement
There stood a raven
Whose shadow hung above my door
Then through the silence
It spoke that one word
That I shall hear forever more
Nevermore
Thus quoth the raven, nevermore
And still the raven remains in my room
No matter how much I implore
No words can soothe him
No prayer remove him
And I must hear for evermore
Quoth the raven, nevermore
Thus quoth the raven
Nevermore
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is Wrong With Your Poetry?
do not sound like a treaty
with terms and conditions
penalties for violations
much more
do not sound like your are
sort of a philosophy
the heart would not be pleased
with prolixity
be like a bird in the air
playful to the emptiness of the sky
be like the fish
agile to the rages of the current
sleek and smart
it a second it escapes and is gone
an illusion to your hands
it is after all the emotions
that we are dealing with here
grief, anger, bliss
happiness, joy,
it is the fireworks that we see on the 4th of July
less talk
more of that awe
and wonder
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Not into The Ocean of Verbiage
too much words
i am exhausted with so many
garbage in this
wasteland of verbiage
this prolixity eventually says nothing
someone leaves
on muted steps
what you hear is the sigh of
nothingness
true, it is true
less is always more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Ravens
The raven is the national bird of Bhutan
It is worn in the royal hat.
The raven is the official bird of the Yukon
And of the city of Yellowknife
King Harald Hardrada carried a raven banner
Called land-waster, a Viking boast
In Sweden the raven is known
As the ghost of a murdered person
In Scotland, a raven's a corbie
Feasting on knights and gallow's meat
The ravens, Hugin and Mugin
Sit upon Odin's shoulders
Their names are Thought and Memory
The raven is the trickster god
Of the Inuit and the Koyukons
The Kingdom of England will fall
If the Tower of London ravens fly away
Hail to the raven,
The Wizard of Skene's familiar
Wise were his ways who had the gift of speech
poem by Sheena Blackhall

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The Ravens Call
i hear the ravens call
i see the dead mans fall
for once more i hear the ravens crow
of the words nevermore
just like that lonley man
that sat with a book in his hands
stairing at a picture of his lost love lenore
knowing she will never return to his door
as he hears the ravens call of nevermore nevermore
i will sit here by myself nevermore hearing the ravens crow
but signs of that raven will nevermore go
poem by Oi Boi Alec Wade

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A BeAPoeIt Poem
I say I'm not a poet, For like of which I know it,
Rhymes absurd in metered word,
Describing not a poet
Edgar Allen knew it, The flying raven flew it,
The poems grow for Poe to know,
And Nevermore he drew it
Maya made to wing it, The caging bird to bring it,
With Angelou a freedom flow,
In Stilling bird to sing it
Robert's ride to sigh it, The road with just one by it,
Frost travels one concealing sun,
But Traveling to try it
I'll never be a poet, Descriptions rip to sew it,
Moving here and there with wear,
Encoding how I show it
poem by Paul Moosberg

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Another Raven Story (A Fable)
It dost speak and live free.
Tamed by men and virtuous scores
The raven's been scarred and bleeding.
'Nevermore should wounds be healed.
Nevermore must I fly.
Death comes as I glide away,
I'd rather bleed here and die!
To seek freedom is to seek death
As lifespans linger on.
So dost my time clock ticks
Wearing my breath down for long.'
He took his plight and roam the earth
Not wanting to flap his feathered wings.
Mingling with rodents and crawling insects
As birds of his kind flew free.
His wounds have healed in time
But he dost stay there, still.
'I'll live here alone and happy
With a world far beyond my mind.
I, a raven, a bird no more;
A creature of earthly soil.
I declare myself splendid
Above the birds I know.
No bird nor life should call me 'Raven'
For bird am I no more.'
He met some friends,
Some creatures from the ground.
'Why art ye this way? ' They asked.
So he told his story to all.
'But thou art a bird.' Said the other.
'And thou shalt not deny it.' Said one.
'Fortunate ye are with wings
Able to explore horizons.
Unlike us who cannot fly
When fires scorch the seasons.'
After that all departed
Thinking how strange the raven's been.
Feeling unwanted, he left.
Still walking, and not with wings.
Night falls, he finds no shelter.
No caves nor holes to spend the night.
His pride's too big for him to go back
To trees he lived, and once called home.
'Further steps would lead new places.
By far, strive hard and well be patient.
My outstretched legs must be kept working
For me to be strong and survive.'
Says he, the raven, denying flight;
Too proud enough to swallow his pride.
Dawn's arriving though it's still dark.
The raven saw this creature and spoke out loud:
'Ye rat, why dost ye have wings? '
Says he, 'Me not a rat, you see;
A mammal of flight am I, a bat! '
Swung free open his wings and flew,
Glides pass the dark, out of moonlight's sight.
'Is he happy? ' Asked the raven to himself.
Sunrise approaching, but still he hasn't rested.
'Guess I have to use these wings.' Quoth he.
'I have no life wandering. The sky's my life.
How treacherous its pangs may be.'
Little Raven
Little raven,
Where did you come from?
Little raven,
With your little black body.
Little raven,
With your long, shinny wings.
Little raven,
In mid flight.
Little raven,
With your frightening caw.
Little raven,
Why are you a sigh of death?
poem by Jameaka Shibles

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The Story Of Nevermore
now I cast a hypnotic spell
to free a child from her hell
surrender now child fall deep in my spell
just come to me child and all will be well
rise now child in sleep you now come
walk now child thought your scenes stay numb
fall now child in to a peaceful dream
but nothing there is as it seems
even thought child in you dream all is right
really your body walks still throw the night
relax now child let that dream ease your mind
follow now child let my voice be your guild
don’t worry child my intentions are pure
you’ll be happy with me of that I am sure
I’m just so tired of being alone
I want a child all of my own
so sleepwalk now child to the pull of my charm
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be safe in my arms
nevermore child shall you cry out in pain
your old life will be lost but a new one will be gained
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be my daughter soon
find your way to me child by the light of the moon
sleepwalk to me child and I’ll show you my ways
all the things I can show you; you’ll be amazed
sleepwalk to me child your almost here
come to me child soon all will be clear
sleepwalk to me child come meet your new mom
soon the whole world will rest in your palm
I see you now child I have you in sight
I run to you child now all is right
your eyes are dazed child unseeing and blank
I can see you now child what a great daughter you’ll make
come to me child collapse in my arms
come to me child you’re safe now from harm
I hold you now child and cradle you close to my heart
I hum to you child as I carry you throw the dark
were home now dear child far from all you ones knew
were home now dear child only one thing left to do
I made this child a special potion just for you
and with it your life begins anew
drink this now child and let your past slip away
remember not one second not one moment or one day
your eyes close child as I release you from my spell
in conciseness you do not dwell
back in to slumber you fall ever so deep
I love how innocent you look in sleep
a new name you need child to mark your new life
you need a new name as you exist the light
your name is Nevermore My child Raven Nevermore
a name like none ever heard before
you are Raven Nevermore
a young witch of great power to explore
you are Raven Nevermore
my daughter now and evermore
poem by Raven Nevermore

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With a thirsty voice
With a thirsty voice
And a green heart
I said:
'You're no more my universe.'
' Nevermore! '
Replied the raven
Instead of you.
I said
'You're no more
My blessing and my curse.'
And
'Nevermore! '
Replied the raven
Instead of you.
Broken idols
In midnight taper
Definitely kill the silence
Between our words.
Love with traces of rust
Formed by the trickling tears
Desperately tries to save
Our illusions.
I can eat now
All my walking dreams
And I can close my bleeding wounds,
While the sky
Can swallow its clouds
And the Earth can close
Its burial ground.
poem by Marieta Maglas

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Remember Raven
Aah! ooh!
Aah! ooh!
While youre busy trying to conjure dirt upon me,
Your ponys sucked dry by an african bee.
The muck you rake is not enough to keep your turd at sea,
Remember the raven,
Remember the raven.
While your busy trying to weigh your power,
Your boats getting into fast water.
Lifes going down the river of no return,
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Dont try to be a warden to history,
While trying to find a seat for your posterity.
You better tend your garden for your family.
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Judas never got the key to heaven, you know.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, raven.
song performed by by Yoko Ono

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The raven of Edgar Poe
We need only time
To undergo metamorphosis....
The girl and the old woman
Keeping an eye on each other;
The raven screaming, solemnly:
-Nevermore!
O, the raven of Edgar Poe,
Which had guessed
Their secret...
poem by Marieta Maglas

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Raven Saving Phoenix
She told me about
a dream she had
She swooped down to earth
And the Phoenix she did grab
She started to fly him
Out to the stars
And the Raven’s pleading
Fell upon deaf ears
He begged her not to do this
The broken Soul laying in her hands
Would not withstand the vibration
And it would certainly be his end
And still it didn’t matter
For her truth she meant to seek
the beguiling laugh coming from her
Made the Raven start to speak
She continued to fly
Determined to know
“Did you write these words?
Tell me or I won’t let go”
And so the Raven
Said “Tis I
The one that writes you”
He worried his friend would die
And I wonder its truth
What the Rave did say
Because of her actions
And the way it did play
When she told me this dream
My breath was taken from me
For I understood what happened
And she was too blind to see
In complete desperation
The Raven stood to fill the gap
And told her what she needed to hear
So she would give to him his friend back
A person that could do that
Could jeopardize a Soul
Because they selfishly want
A truth somehow to know
A person that could do this
Scares me deep inside
Perhaps it best my friendship
Is now to her denied
I Hear The Raven Sing
I can hear the raven sing,
I can hear the raven sing,
He calls out my name,
I can hear the raven sing,
He calls out to me,
His song is singing in the wind,
I can hear the raven sing,
Thunder breaks a silent moment,
Then he calls out my name,
A spiritual glow envelops,
Medicine power develops,
As the raven sings,
A rainbow doubled,
My minds not troubled,
As I hear the raven sing,
It’s time to go home,
My ancestors wait for me,
The welcome hand is extended,
My place around the council fire reserved,
I hear the raven sing,
There, all that was, is preserved,
And the message of the raven heard.
My Vision my Dream.
Osceola Birdman Waters.
Copy rights pending.
Dedicated to Billy White Fox.
poem by Osceola Waters

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Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all his sentences short, or that he avoid all detail and treat his subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.
William Strunk, Jr in Elements of Style (1919)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Raven Crows
The Raven Crows
by Charles Robert Hice on Thursday, November 22,2012 at 9: 27pm ·
The Raven Crows
The Raven stretches its wings and flies into the gray winter skies while the raven flies it Crows its rawkish voice makes aweful noise
it blows the wind it howls and sounds like a mechanical noise inside the wind
the noise pretends to be the raven as it crows it flies it crows and flies it dives down into the wind and sounds like a noise falling fast and then it sort of dies and falls away not the sound it echoes and it blows
in the middle of the night no one can see the ravens flight but they hear the voice the noise the sound even the wings they flap they glide silent and they hide
The raven seldom crows when it is in its glide it falls and hides no one can see the feathers as it plummets from the sky it moves in a silent fashion
as the raven glides it hides from the eyes of the men it has a sense of reality and a purpose as it glides it looks neither to the left or to the right finally it is satisfied with its destination in its sight the raven crows one final time and plummets like a stone into the night and suddenly a poem is come to earth as Poe hears his famous bird not the crow the rook or the blackbird as it sings but the Raven as it speaks to only him
Nevermore
The Raven Crows
poem by Charles Hice

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To Knock on a Door
Who
Who
Who knocks?
Who knocks at
Who knocks at my door?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven named Nevermore that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven named Nevermore that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door? ... No, it's just my brother, Josh, that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door:
It's time for dinner.
poem by Hannah Shier

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A Vist To Edgar's Grave
Hello my friend
Long ago
Buried under the ground
So cold
Hope that you are not
Feeling too lonely
I know
It has been
Many a year
Since last I came for a vist
I am sorry for that
So sorry
Wish that this was not our last
As we sit here
You and I
My old friend
Upon a midnight dreary
I ponder
Weak and weary
About how
I should go on
How I should tell
Of thesad news I bring
To bear
With such sorrow and a heavy heart
Breaking with missing you
I can hesitate no longer
My beloved
I pray
Tonight
That I shall not break your heart
Soon
So very soon
I fear that I shall
Come to dance with
The souls of your fellow dead
In that haunted palace
Way below the clouds where
Angels fear to thread
This soul reborn
So many times
Now flys with the raven
Speaking a strange tongue
In my dreams
I see
The masque of the red death
Slipping down and over
Over my face so still
Painting a picture of death
The raven comes to my window
To whisper soft and deadly
Your beloved Poe
You shall part from now
Sweet tragic Annabelee
Say goodby
For your lover you shall sing to
NEVERMORE
poem by Ramona Thompson

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Sonnet 08
With many a weary step, at length I gain
Thy summit, Lansdown; and the cool breeze plays,
Gratefully round my brow, as hence the gaze
Returns to dwell upon the journeyed plain.
'Twas a long way and tedious! to the eye
Tho fair the extended vale, and fair to view
The falling leaves of many a faded hue,
That eddy in the wild gust moaning by.
Even so it fared with Life! in discontent
Restless thro' Fortune's mingled scenes I went,
Yet wept to think they would return no more!
But cease fond heart in such sad thoughts to roam,
For surely thou ere long shall reach thy home,
And pleasant is the way that lies before.
poem by Robert Southey

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The Cravin' Raven
The raven searches for food to consume.
He flies high and low,
Yet none does he find.
He thinks this is not a very good sign.
Soon, food at last, and this the meatless kind.
He has watched from afar and knows
This food is left each day on the step;
Not in the garden for humans to grow.
Swooping down to inspect this food
The milkman is gone making this a stop.
This is a treat beyond compare.
Everyday, the man makes a drop.
The raven pecks, inspects, and thinks
“The bottle is hard; my beak must not break.”
Maybe here, there, the search goes on!
Frustration and turmoil is all this creates!
More pecking he does, more frustrated he is;
This insaneness makes a bird lose his mind.
“There has to be a way.
What must I do to reach the food that is inside? ”
He pecks all around and discovers the top
The lid on the bottle is paper-like thin.
His beak will go through this fine cover,
And the treasure inside he definitely wins.
Each day he returns with knife, fork and spoon.
Taking part in this feast, a rare delicacy.
“No more searching for food must I do,
Now I can drink to fill my small belly.”
Generously, he invites friends to the feast
They will enjoy this food he is savin’.
I must not be a pig and eat all for myself.
I’ll invite friends to savor this food I’m cravin.’
The man of the house becomes aware of his loss
Loudly proclaiming no more food, and all-out war
To quote a phrase from the poet, Edgar Alan Poe
Nevermore……..Nevermore……….Nevermore!
poem by Diane Wright

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