Ronovan’s art prompt is this painting. I have no idea what it is, but here’s what it inspired.
From a forest of tree tangle,
dead and dry, it comes,
treading with the confidence of death,
untouchable and indefatigable.
No wings carry this crow,
no lightness of sky and cloud touches its dusty flesh.
Midnight at midday,
the wilderness caws,
hoarse as war trumpets braying,
and we cower as the blight grows
and the fever rises,
and we dread the sound
of pounding at the door.
A tanka for Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge.
white fields hoarfrost-crisp
beneath a wan winter sun
waiting for release
black against so much whiteness
crow—its call echoes darkly
A follow-on Morrigan reference for Frank’s challenge.
Black wings, ragged flight,
crow surveys desolation—
Today seems too have been the day of the crow, so here’s another crow and pearl (and oystercatcher) poem.
Photo© Raimond Spekking / CC BY-SA 4.0 (via Wikimedia Commons)
Moon in the water
Fashioned from foam.
And along the kelp-strewn strand
Where mussles wheeze
And cockles blow
A high stepping bird
One eye cocked
For the carrion stalker
Sifts and searches
For the dark sea’s prize.
For this last challenge of 2015, I thought we could do a theme poem rather than one in a particular form. Up to you to choose how you do it, but the challenge is to write a poem using a familiar saying. The one I chose was ‘as the crow flies’.
Here are some examples:
Keep the wolf from the door
One swallow does not a summer make
Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings
Straight from the horse’s mouth
A cat has nine lives
A cat can look at a king
Curiosity killed the cat
Burning the midnight oil
Cross that bridge when we come to it
Let sleeping dogs lie
Kill two birds with one stone
Once in a blue moon
Method in my madness
Steal someone’s thunder
Every cloud has a silver lining.
And this is my crow flies poem.
As the crow flies,
Ragged wingbeats slow,
Steady as the ocean’s flow.
Wingbeats, oarstrokes, funeral barque,
Carrying some soul into the dark.
As the crow flies,
Rows into the dark.
Have fun writing, keep sane over the New Year festivities, and see you in 2016.
This is a Haiku inspired by the two words of Ronovan’s prompt for this week: Pitch and Time.
Pitch black is the crow
casting night across the sun
time makes an ending.
Dark winter tide turns
dark wind blows howling snow clouds
dark days are coming.
The fire within dies
quenched when the wind blows too hard
love’s flickering flame.
Your words breathe a chill
coat this beating heart with frost
while snowflakes fall soft.
Wind blows upriver
gulls drift on their wings lost souls
mist falls hides your face.
Into winter dark
crow flaps through thick falling snow
call lost in the wind.