The raven flies low
I hear when he is cawing
- A ray of hope there
haiku by Peter S. Quinn

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Villanelle: Blackbird
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill,
In autumn after other birds had fled,
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
I stood and listened, savoring the thrill
And wondered why the superstitious dread
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill.
Perhaps they’d better reckoned why the shrill,
Outspoken, charcoal guardian of the dead
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
A witness of the seasons, it could fill
A tome or tomb with woe: I heard, instead,
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill.
The raven’s kin, it played the brazen shill
And, morbid incantations having plead,
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
But as I yearn to hear the robin’s trill,
I think of when, now comforted in bed,
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
poem by Richard St. Clair

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The Raven sings
The Raven sings
Can you hear the Raven sing?
I hear it everyday.
What does this Raven bring?
Death in many ways.
Can you hear the Raven sing?
I hear it sing your name.
When you see the Ravens wings,
You will go insane.
Can you hear the Raven sing?
The Ravens here today.
Can you feel your heart sink,
As a loved one is taken away.
poem by Jamie Wright

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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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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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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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Graveyard in the snow
Today, I cannot find your grave,
because the stone with your name
is set in the earth,
down, where it is not in the way,
when the caretakers mow the grass,
now you are covered with snow.
Everything is white,
so full of peace, so still,
I sit on the bench,
it is so cold, but
I feel so close to you,
after all, you are cold,
under the earth,
under this white sheet,
hidden, but there, I know.
Only a raven,
shiny in funeral coat of feathers,
black against the white,
sits with me, in a tree,
not far, insistently cawing,
a warning, an emphatic word
of solace.
The trees, dark green
under the snow,
are so silent,
I can hear a soft sliding,
when the clumps of snow
fall on the ground,
startling the raven.
He flies away,
a shadow against the clouds
of winter sky.
I must leave you now,
the deep cavity of my grief
is like the silence
of your snow-covered grave,
enticing me to stay.
But I have promised
a pledge to live,
before I can sleep
under the snow.
poem by Martina E. Elenbaas

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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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On The Gum Tree On The Road Side
On the gum tree on the road side I can hear the unmelodious crow
Cawing in the gathering twilight his voice I have come to know
He doesn't seem worried by the weather though it has rained for most of the day
He is proclaiming his borders and Spring doesn't seem that far away.
Known as the Australian raven he is a stranger to fame
Wild life artists tend to ignore him and poets seldom mention him by name
Maybe because he lacks in beauty and maybe because he can't sing
He is one whose name is not mentioned amongst the feathered minstrels of Spring.
Hated by Aussie sheep farmers one good word of his kind they won't speak
They kill the frail newly born lambs and any mercy do not show to the weak
Yet these birds are the great survivors and in a hostile environment they thrive
And despite persecution by farmers the wily raven survive.
In a stick nest high on a tall tree three to six green eggs with freckles of brown
Ravens are birds of the paddocks and of the parks of the town,
Their great story of survival is a story to inspire
They may be lacking in beauty yet them one can't help but admire.
High on the gum on the road side as shades of night creep through the sky
The Aussie raven is cawing on this wet evening in July
He doesn't seem worried by the weather though it has rained for most of the day
He is proclaiming his borders and Spring is not that far away.
poem by Francis Duggan

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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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Raven, Raven
I took my children to the Zoo.
That was in March of 1993
And there was a sharp wind.
We saw a black
Raven who had stories.
'Are you thirsty, Raven? '
They asked him.
He said: 'Raven, Raven.'
'Are you hungry, Raven? '
He said: 'Raven, Raven'
'Do you have a family, Raven? '
I asked.
He said: 'Raven, Raven.'
We came back smiling
My children and I.
The children left.
We remained: sharp wind and me.
We went to my apartment:
My memories and I.
Unbearable loneliness.
I went to a pub.
The waiter asked:
'Are you thirsty or hungry?
You are not with your kids tonight? '
I replied: 'RAVEN, RAVEN.'
poem by Jankovic Zoran

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I Am A Raven
I am a raven
Freer than a breeze
Beholding to no one
Doing what I please
I am a raven
Watch me fly
Aeries are for eagles
Not me!
Don’t ask me why
I am a raven
Eating what I please
Sleep anywhere I want
Have no one to appease
I am a raven
You’d better let me by
I’m a bit combative
Might pluck out an eye
I am a raven
Better left alone
Unless inclined to marry
Have ravens of mine own
I am a raven
Feathers black as coal
Robbery my stock in trade
So stay clear
Or I may steal your soul
poem by Ray Lucero

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On a Beautiful Day
On a great beautiful day
The world is happy
Everything is going your way
You walk down an ill treated street
On a pole an old Raven perched
He is grey
His scaly feet tremble at the site of you
He watches you
He knows you
He flies off into the sky
He is old
He is a Raven
He knows what will die
poem by Aaron Burr

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Poof
If you have never poofed a dandelion
Rubbed petals of roses
Sniffed peppermint leaves
Stepped in virgin snow
Nor heard the sigh of a dog
The hooting of an owl
The moaning of a cat
Cawing of a raven
Or nursed an ice cream cone
Swallowed jell-o
Eaten sushi and venison
Shouted just to hear the echo
Then you have never lived
Still young of heart
Bangeeing from a bridge
Sky diving, skiing
Or even mundane mountain climbing
Can be thrilling
Live it up
Poof a dandelion
poem by Shimon Weinroth

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Madam Morganna The Raven Goddess
Morgan
Just like a raven
Your eyes are brown
Like the earth you can withhold
Your name is free
The like raven within you
You escape into the freedom of the sky
With the wings of love
You are calm and smooth
Like the feathers of a raven
You are brave and bold
Once again you are a raven
A symbol of life and peace in an earthy way
Morgan you are the raven that protects the soul
poem by Jasmine Appelhaus

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Archangel of Death
Over fields of War soars the Raven, on wings of Death he flies
He sees the clash of bone and sword, hears the dying cries
Flies above the bloodied earth, his wings black out the sun
Come to collect the honored dead, each and every one
Angel of Death, Azrael, the Bloody Reaper Grim
Raven of Death, Herder of Souls, the Black Winged Seraphim
His face shrouded in shadow, in his hands a blackened sword
The Angel in Black, Collector of Souls, darkest servant of the Lord
The Raven soars the skies of earth, to collect men's final breath
Azrael, the Reaper Grim, Archangel of Death.
poem by Tim Vallie

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Extraction Ravens ^^^
- The raven has stolen-that?
-Cheese, and what? !
- Raven has stolen... - that?
-Words, and what? !
- Raven has stolen... What?
-Notes, and that else!
- Well, also what? !
-Raven sang a song...
-Well, also what? !
- Raven sang all night long....
- Cheese! Give to raven che-e-e-e-se!
25.10.08.
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili

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Raven
And as the raven flies she feels unwelcome
She's fallen out of her tree and caught on a limb of silver lining
Her wings uncertain oh but she's still flying
Yeah little Raven I see you there
Hold your head up now
I won't try and pull your feathers out I promise
Go on dry your eyes
You know that I've forgiven you and I'm sorry
And everything till now
It wasn't that bad really
Beautiful lady
Why don't you fly with me
We'll have a chat and a cup of tea
And a long lost need to see who's really there
And you'll finally be okay with me
And I'll hear your stories
That fill your sad eyes
When you had raven hair
Hold your high up high
I know that I've been ruthless
I've been ruthless
Go on dry your eyes
You know that I've forgiven you and I'm sorry
And everything till now
It wasn't that bad really
Beautiful lady
Go on dry your eyes
Hey you finally see me - hi
And I see you
And everything till now
It wasn't that bad really
Beautiful lady
Go on dry your eyes
You know that I've forgiven you and I'm sorry
And everything till now
It wasn't that bad really
Beautiful lady
song performed by by Lisa Marie Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As the wind caresses me through the w indow...
Delighted
The hoarse voiced crows
Caw caw as a veil of grey-black
Stealthily spreads on hills and the sea
Surprisingly the cawing sounds music
To the dry ears longing to hear
The tip tap of raindrops on the earth
The roar of thunder is music pr excellence
As the heart cocks its ears to absorb
Each and every nuance
The dragon flies dance in maniac rhythm
Their wings pitted against the erratic winds
Somewhere within my niche
Something stirs to life…
22sep2010
14.58hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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Fly Raven Fly
fly raven fly
and see the sparkle in my eyes
as I watch you
flying high.
fly raven fly
fly wherever you want
but just don't dropp anything
that could hurt my baby.
fly raven fly...
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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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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