raven (Remove filter)
Raven
The sky felt dense,
The mood it gave off,
Like moths in hue,
And butterflies in pale,
The showering of haze,
Over us at ease,
It’s not seen,
And there I won’t be seen,
The morning routine,
Of the everlasting gloom,
The day stuck in reprises,
And another one it seems,
It flies by scoring petrified faces,
Clipping by the nests,
It sta...
Tuesday 7th March 2023 6:54 am
Poe's Hecker
Judicious hunter of the sky,
Corvid of Gehenna’s lie,
Helping wolves for leftover scraps.
Fights with rats the bulk of cats;
Jet-black wraith pick-pecks a bone,
Mynah-like, its voice intones.
Flicks a tilt? A questioning look?
‘Nevermore,’ answers the crook.
.
.
.
© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) –Limericist 2007/2021
Monday 22nd March 2021 5:39 am
Canyon Raven
We come as passing visitors on the rimrock of this vast abyss,
awed by ancient desert rocks with ever-changing hues.
We marvel at these stones laid down in tepid seas
before the dawn bird flew,
grandeur timeless, yet so transient.
A raven races up from the canyon with joyful croak,
like a goblin fresh on vacation from his work in Hell.
He arcs above, then plunges deep into the chasm
with...
Thursday 11th June 2020 5:20 pm
Canyon Raven
We come as passing visitors on the rimrock of this vast abyss,
awed by ancient desert rocks with ever-changing hues.
We marvel at these stones laid down in tepid seas
before the dawn bird flew,
grandeur timeless, yet so transient.
A raven races up from the canyon with joyful croak,
like a goblin fresh on vacation from his work in Hell.
He arcs above, then plunges deep into the chasm
with...
Monday 23rd March 2020 6:23 pm
The Prison
Unwanted emotions tumble and groan crashing through my mind unwelcome
As I sit forlorn, an empty shell of my previous beautiful self
What was once a blessing is now a curse
Something that hurts with an unreversible pain
As I'm fading, giving in to the dark night
A voice, soft and steady breaks the silence
A flutter flows through my stomach and my heart beats almost to the point ...
Tuesday 15th January 2019 8:26 am
Winging It (Nullarbor Journey)
The Nullarbor Plain, seven hundred miles of waterless plain but with many trees (and untold kangaroos) is other-worldy in its exquisite and remote presence. Like most parts of non-urban Australia it is a dangerous and even fatal place for fools and risk-takers, who regularly pay the ultimate price. This piece is about the aura of darkness that surrounds the happy traveller in such surroundings.
...Monday 22nd January 2018 4:33 am
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
16 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
17 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
21 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
21 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
22 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
22 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
23 hours ago