Crow poems bring the best collection of short and long crow poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great crow rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these crow poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on crow are here for you.
Nature’s undertaker and cleaner of bones. Making a meal of your vocation, You gather your tokens from The Reaper’s table, Peck by peck, a dissection by rip saw. Meat, by any other name, could taste no sweeter, And yet so
The concerned crow above me poised on a green green tree and i may be asked anything ; we have all answers-something to tell, as only expected from those concerned -something to tell. caw caw caw caw with me and
T’was late at night when a knock came at the door: Not much could be heard, but the sound of a snore. When the old man suddenly awoke to his feet Angrily screaming and cursing, like never before. “This better
Come to me as though you were summoned, as though the colour of the evening sky, reminded you of lost love, as though the call of a crow, spoke to you about things inseparable, as though from the depths of
Revelation Brevity of words; No rhyme within its reason. Haiku uncovered. Caught Out Summer rain spatter, Unsettled dusky maiden. Parasol resort. Crow Proclaimers of death; charcoaled anonymity. Murderous union. Prelude to a Fall Bitter autumn wind, Sinks teeth into summer’s
Let’s have a look back at the blissful past And remember a gifted shadow that shone A guest that stopped by my lawn so vast A cute little fellow dark as Black Beauty Settling on the emerald-green, pure grass Demanded
Concrete beneath your feet as you blaze your trail along the road to your grave; covered in blood and tears shadowed by gray smoke heaving light upon your pain At the fork between the tines the crow sits watching Wings
Let it rain, let it rain! O Mighty let it rain, For it gives no pain, The wonderful fire flies shine Above this huge brine Currents flowing like the blood in my veins But humans are not like rains Once
It was both a complicated and a simpler place and time A very noisy and sometimes uncivil place, but very little crime A place though legally dry, yet filled with moonshine and wine Where peace and freedom were purchased by
There are some things I have come to believe. Believe me when I say, I am not deceived. Sometimes the good die young, and never receive. Unfairness exists, and persists, though ill conceived. Sometimes everybody gets pushed around, or cheated.
In three forms Two thirds; Still, Not to drink a drop, or two pots for bath. One-third in Coco cola bottle, One-third is in the Cleavage water, Then, we are throwing stones at the well, Waiting for the crow bath;
The two little frogs awoke next day feeling very blythe and happy were they After breakfast they decided to go to the river bank. They hopped real slow They wanted to know where the river went as it bubbled along
Shadows and the bravery of the past, echoes of the sounds you spoke of hopes and misery ever last… but smokes of your failure – you choke Behinds the sun, stars dream of evening darkness. Holy Death, leads us to
A river flows through many people’s places and around dangerous spaces A yellow corn field and an amazing pink windmill as a summer embraces A black crow on a wooden fence and a dusty road as a fire in the
Word by word I was drinking your fathomless pain, not asking to shine any prehistoric sin. You are still flying straight as the crow flies into timeless grief. Why we have to suffer in the hands of tiny barbs? Who
(1) It is insane that while your heart jumps at evening on the strings of a harp, while your beloved lady’s hair flies with every breeze of jazz, while you wash up at morning under showers of gardens sounds, but
While walking to the store, I pass by so many beautiful flowers. There is the beautiful pink roses in full bloom and oleander. As I walk further, I see the beautiful crepe myrtles with Watermelon red, pink carnation and pearly
Our poets the fools, as always they are, Mistake the shouts and cry of a bird, As its song, the melody, not thinking The pain, it suffers as ‘thrown outs’, By own mother, attacked by a stranger, The crow, a
The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know… which insightful, gutsy, entrancing, catchy apothegm attributed to Socrates by way of Plato subsequently self ranking myself amidst Phylum Chordata with the Dodo bird Class Aves (namely said
Voices that had welcomed the day with prayers of peace and enlightenment, froze, forever. discord of your lunacy bereaved your hearts of feeling the joy of those chants, those songs so you subdued them, with your guns but there will
Entering into hypersonic gridlock you become one of the crowd; remain devastated, slip into unconciousness, defer to a calibrated emblem and speak untainted. The debris was taking to the street. The trees were drinking from geyser basins, mutated restraint. The
It was midnight moon cruising in the bedroom. I step aside in the depressed window, watch the overwhelming spillover. I listen, then do not listen to alien voices of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan, artfully in cryptic signs crunching the bones.
One in love, yet two in a crush- Peering from oneself into another’s! Fall for or get by; all tears are a reality show- About care’s hollow amice of rendition! Riding chariots of audacity to halt the rash- Is a
That day was exhilarating, My heart was already drenching, Split Second I saw, in awe, Gathered my courage to jaw, Time was too good to be true, No thought to subdue, A Kiss, full of bliss, was hard to miss,
The hands of time tick slowly by as dawn breaks in a new day. A nightmare reality of the receding night lies marked, like so many fading stars, in the shattered glass on the floor. Silken shards of sorry souls,
You there, strong-willed and so brave, smart and so kind. You there sitting and having a hard time, eyes holding back tears you’re afraid to let flow. Let them fall angel, let them all go. You’re not just a fighter
Sweet moonlight shone down on earth A single beam broke through the clouds Dancing across ripples in the lake Sneaking into a window pane Where a pair of eyes open wide in awe Little feet patter on the floor Tiptoed
Don’t let you heart become a paper boat sailing Towards childhood, Towards the harbour of its never returning fragrances. Don’t float towards its crescent moons if you could, Or the enchanting crooning of its past tenses. Don’t become an interpreter
A ball of bitterness in my chest It feeds on my soul Clogging my mind Slogging through my veins Flogging my sense of self It is louder than sound More persistent than love It muffles cries of desperation “You are
Before some three or four-odd days Began the nature show some craze. The people, truly afraid, to say, Nowhere did find a place to stay. The initial portension was a fire, That left a pile of ashes and mire Of
Look around. A world designed. Billions of years in the making. Fine tuned, made perfect. Flowing water. Warm temperatures. Sustainable. Look around a world designed. All things made came from Gaia. All things forged, came out of the ground through
am flying very high from this earth, still a paranoid cloud, walking on earth fearing dirt. i admire the spider’s heart, it stays there longer than eyes sees it. survival is the main objective , which tends to fear it.