The ravens of Ecclesbourne
The dark shadow of a large corvus
A mere crow,
No'a bird far larger far more supreme,
The harbinger of doom so they say
As if cast from some dark dream.
The raven'
Mystical bird of days of yore,
Glides over me to find a resting place on the cliff
Just beyond the rugged shore.
The silence only broken by their occasional deep croak
A voice far deeper than of any crow that I have heard before.
Like some dark spirit
Free from the confines of the historical tower,
Their dark shadows only eclipsed
By the black clouds of a passing shower.
I stand and watch in fascination
Of their arial acrobatics high above,
Their dark shadows cross and re cross
As if dancing in mutual love.
The stately raven
A bird of legend and steeped in folk law,
Casts a shadow over the grey winter cliffs
A place where the raven reigns supreme and free forever more.
poem by Gordon Butchers
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Related quotes
A Raven
Dark bird
Black raven with black wings,
Black eyes as dark as midnight,
Wind flutters his wings,
Shadows turn his head,
And movement catches his stare.
He looks down upon you and watches in dismay,
No black is with in you,
No night in your eyes,
No wings to up lift you,
No shadow to attract you,
And movements pass your gaze.
A raven, A raven, A moonlight silhouette.
Dark and Glory
Dark and Dark is down below,
Echoing casually on the wing of a Crow.
Enter the Deep and never return;
Play with Shadows until you burn.
Become One with the Dark and observe
The prickle of Fear on your nerve.
Raven, Crow, pick out your eyes
In the Dark, pick on the Prize.
Shadows and Devils mount in hordes,
Mock and tease the Demon Lords.
Take the Breath that is your last
And Remember nothing of that Past.
Drought the Dark is hiding now
Rust the bones in a Bleeding bow.
Find the Center and Rot it down,
Win the Glory and take the Crown.
poem by Becky Schulz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside The Cross of Iron Shadow
Inside The Cross of Iron Shadow
====================
Shape to Guide Aligned by Light
Formed of Cross Divide of Shadow
Light to Darken The Cross Within
The Dark Surround The Light With Out
Shape To Confine The Shadow Caste Of Iron Cross
Pieced Together The Puzzle Within
Immediate Light of Circumstantial
Fade to Black
Cross Fade to Light
The Sound Staged Within
Shadow Sounds Free of Night
Forged Of Iron Shadow
Holier Than Thou Be This Shadow Cross of Age
Cast of Moon Beam of Light to Burn
Outline of Cross Confines The Shadow Dark
Which Binds A Mind To Light
Fore There In No Way Exist
This One Without The Other Side of Good
As Day to Blackest Night of Evil
As Sun Give Rise to Dawn To Cast Away
The Nightmare Within A Mind Of Day and Shadow
Night of Day To Darkest Cross Beam of Light
To Light A Mind Eclipsed In Shadow
Forever In Light To Dark Shade of Gray Matter
Inside The Cross Of Iron Shadow.
poem by Ricardo Antunes
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The Raven And The Crow
what is the difference
between a raven and a crow?
for one has a more beautiful name
than the other one has to show
has jealousy seeped into the crow
to hate the raven so?
to think of such an evil plan
and sink so very low
To take away all of the things
so quick and so abrupt
and take away the raven's life
it's nothing but corrupt
the raven lies there bleeding
dying by each passing minute
the snow soaks up its dark red blood
before the cold then kills it
triumph reigns inside evil
elated as it might feel
a cold eminates from it
loneliness will be its chill
Beauty Seen, In A Raven's Wing...
The Snow Brings
Dark Beauty Seen
In A Raven’s Wing
Iridescent Sheen
Black Glistening …
… Like Night Dreams
Plumage Gleams
and Eyes Seems
Fathomless Schemes
Of Obsidian Beams …
… Or Eclipse Rings
and The Raven Preens
Its Dark Beauty Seen
Like A Wet-Jet Queen
Or Nocturnal King …
… Wakes from Sleeping
Lifting Pitch Wings
and Dark Beauty Seen
Into Sky-High Scene
and The Care Of The Supreme …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Gullible
The Black Bird portents the gloom
As he drives home the night...
Muted tones of grey accent his shadow
Conjuring up visions of panic and fright;
As a drought of a hundred years
Where the Earth wrinkles and cracks
The Raven bodes poorly for this day
As the muted grey tones now turn to black;
Fashionably correct or understated...
The less is more philosophy-
Sophistication is borderline-ice cold-dry
As the Raven has gotten the better of me;
Lacking-oh so lacking in any warmth...
Driven to a dark chill of regret and woe
The Black Bird has shown its true colours
Ironically, telling me, what i needed to know;
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Raven Days
Our hearths are gone out and our hearts are broken,
And but the ghosts of homes to us remain,
And ghastly eyes and hollow sighs give token
From friend to friend of an unspoken pain.
O Raven days, dark Raven days of sorrow,
Bring to us in your whetted ivory beaks
Some sign out of the far land of To-morrow,
Some strip of sea-green dawn, some orange streaks.
Ye float in dusky files, forever croaking.
Ye chill our manhood with your dreary shade.
Dumb in the dark, not even God invoking,
We lie in chains, too weak to be afraid.
O Raven days, dark Raven days of sorrow,
Will ever any warm light come again?
Will ever the lit mountains of To-morrow
Begin to gleam athwart the mournful plain?
poem by Sidney Lanier
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The Indian minor
It landed on the wall
that divided the front yard
from the back
where my yellow BMW
was sheltered under a roof
It was dark brown with a yellow bill
and sharp small black intelligent eyes
watching everything
much like a crow or raven.
Every now and then
it darted down
to land next to the bowl
with the dog’s pellets
pecking them up
as another bird would seed.
The dog would eat every now and then
and sometimes guard its bowl
lying there defying that bird,
but when ever it would go
that bird would
have its feast,
till one day
that I took that bowl away
into the dogs pen
and then that bird
sat screaming on that wall
as if I had stolen
his dearest possessions
from him
as if there was nothing else to steal.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Three Dark Shadows
Three dark
Shadows lurking
In the dark park
On a dark night
One leads
The two others
Follow wearing
Black raincoats
On a dark road
I lead
I tell them
My name
My work
My place
The two
Did not follow
Since then
They realized
Perhaps that
With what
I tell them
I am blacker
Than black
On a dark
Raincoat
On a dark
Park
On a dark
Road
&
In my dark
Mind
It would
Be so hard
For them
To follow
Through &
Through.
They quit
They split
&
So I
Walk alone
In the dark
As one lonely
Shadow
Darker than
Dark
&
Now
It is you
Here
Following me?
In fact
We change
And it is
You
In effect
Who is
Leading me
Through
These lines
Flowing
Slowly
Gradually
Getting
Darker than
Dark
You have
Indulged &
Surely
You are
Involved
Deeply
Long enough
You win
& lose…
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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40
Three dark
Shadows lurking
In the dark park
On a dark night
One leads
The two others
Follow wearing
Black raincoats
On a dark road
I lead
I tell them
My name
My work
My place
The two
Did not follow
Since then
They realized
Perhaps that
With what
I tell them
I am blacker
Than black
On a dark
Raincoat
On a dark
Park
On a dark
Road
&
In my dark
Mind
It would
Be so hard
For them
To follow
Through &
Through.
They quit
They split
&
So I
Walk alone
In the dark
As one lonely
Shadow
Darker than
Dark
&
Now
It is you
Here
Following me?
In fact
We change
And it is
You
In effect
Who is
Leading me
Through
These lines
Flowing
Slowly
Gradually
Gettin g
Darker than
Dark
You have
Indulged &
Surely
You are
Involved
Deeply
Long enough
You win
& lose…
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You, the Dark
Dark, She is the mind of yours.
Icy chill of thought becomes
A steely shimmer.
Behold a glimmer in the black -
A flash of grey, that even glows
In show against the hallowed dark of you.
And that is why you scream in jarring tones
'I have no heart for joy!
My white and brittle bones have died'
You cried in dark and fractured moans.
So now the Queen of Black you writhe,
Whence from dark of shade
That honed an evil form afar;
In curse of me you bade:
'I, the wave shall rape the shore!
Violence will there be in glares I'll throw
At all who prey, and more:
A dark and fetid sea I'll bleed.'
And now, the bitter tinge
And bleak of waste
That eyed the death of once your soul
Will here forever be!
Indeed you tell:
'The cramping pain is here!
Eternal spasm, infinite chasm,
The Devil's chaplain plays!
We'll climax in a tortured glee
As all my love decays.'
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Dark dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
dark dark dark dark dark dark dark darkdarkdarkdark
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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Sailing
(gavin sutherland)
Producer for bonnie: steve hackett
Recorded in 1990 as a charity single against the repatriation of the vietnamese boat people. lyrics taken from careful listening.
I am sailing, i am sailing
Far away, across the sea
I am sailing, stormy waters
To be near you, to be free
I am flying, i am flying
Like a bird, across the sky
I am flying, passing high clouds
To be near you, to be free
Can you hear me? can you hear me?
Through the dark night, far away
I am dying, forever trying
To be with you, who can say?
We are sailing, we are sailing
Far away, across the sea
We are sailing, stormy waters
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
I am flying, i am flying
Like a bird, across the sky
I am flying, passing high clouds
To be near you, to be free
Oh lord, to be near you
To be free
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
Through the dark night
Far away
I am dying, forever trying
To be with you, who can say
To be with you, who can say
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace of Woods
Crow wings
forest green.
bitter cold.
clouds of breath.
the sound of
Wolf.
Calling in the
Dark.
Lost in Quiet.
a Raven
Caws.
spelling its presence and
claws.
CRUNCH.
the Quiet is
Gone.
Raven calls.
Man is here,
in the Wood.
poem by Katherine Steinbauer
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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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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.'
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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Death of Dusk
The sun resigns,
bleeds out the vestiges –
remnants of the day.
Exsanguination edges into twilight:
red-brown hangs;
upwards darkens:
blue-brown,
blue-black,
death-black,
disquiet – furtive,
like ghoul-ridden fog.
A sombre moon assumes its role,
gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape –
a prequel of supernatural undertones
to chill the scene,
ice the spine,
kill the brain –
we have unnerved the very firmament.
But now a shadow closing down the globe:
dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze,
claims the late hour –
declared in a dying crow caw.
I, the hidden owl
– nemesis of claustrophobic minds –
awake! for mammal flesh –
fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death.
Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness
with my crooked night-tree,
emanating nocturnal allure.
Together we scowl
together we play the dark
upon the land and sky
and mind
while you lie as dead in your box.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Guy In The Dark
The guy In The Dark
Has a Dark face without a name
And a Dark smile to hide the pain
The guy In the Dark
Doesn't know how much longer he can keep trying
Everyday he's slowly dying
The guy in the Dark
Sits all alone
But wants a place to truly call home
The guy in the Dark
Wants nothing more than to be free
….I know this because
……..that guy is me
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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White Room
[clapton]
In the white room with black curtains by the station.
Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings.
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes.
Dawnlight smiles on you leaving, my contentment.
[crow]
Ill wait in this place where the sun never shines;
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves.
[clapton]
You said no strings could secure you at the station.
Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows.
I walked into such a sad time at the station.
When I walked out, felt my own need just beginning.
[crow]
Ill sleep in this place where the sun never shines;
Wait in the dark where the shadows run from themselves.
[clapton]
At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd.
Consolation for the old wound now forgotten.
Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes.
Now shes dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings.
[crow]
Ill wait in the queue where the trains come around;
Wait here with you where the shadows run from themselves.
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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