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Poetry > Contradictions

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message 1: by Kriss (new)

Kriss (krisslee) | 5015 comments Mod
My tongue is burning and yes, yes there are
ravens beneath my heavily lidded eyes
or no, just a single one.

(Excuse me if I contradict).

But it is only one raven.

A single dark, dark bird
with feather's iridescent and gleaming
indigo, sapphire, emerald;
I can see it and it is hideous because
I know they are omens; when one hangs overhead,
suspended upon thick wings, croaking, writhing,
battling gale after gale,
I think of death.

Or when it is perched, precariously, upon
a strangely thin bough.
I hold my breath, like I am driving by
a graveyard.

They are omens. They are everywhere.

Superstition is as baseless as air.
Alas! A raven may fly on air.

Enigma, paradox, a plot that thickens and twists
as carrion birds twist upon a carcass.

Their eyes are like ravens, you see,
when they become a stranger.
They were never strangers to me;
but now they are always strangers
with tongues that do not burn but, instead,
are smooth with milk and honey.

My tongue is burning.
My raven, gnarled now in the form of a crown, is suddenly two.
They do not caw but say their names; they are Huginn, Muninn
Thought, and memory.
They are omens of a different sort.

My tongue is burning, slick with
hatred
and truth.

(But I am a contradiction).

I am done.


message 2: by Colby (new)

Colby (colbz) | 3211 comments Woah. Your imagery is always so amazing. I love this.
I really loved this line:
Enigma, paradox, a plot that thickens and twists
as carrion birds twist upon a carcass.


message 3: by Isaac (new)

Isaac | 8014 comments Give me your writing powers please


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