Archive | crow RSS for this section

Draw a Bird Day: Which Bird?

which bird s

I thought I saw blue jays, but red feathers and whistles turned them into cardinals. I thought I saw cardinals, but the starlings stole their song.  I thought I saw starlings, but they grew huge and then they laughed in a raucous crow chorus.

sparrows 2 s

Which bird? you ask, which
bird?—sparrows, tiny sparrows–
wings to wish upon

This is based on a fragment of a dream that came back to me with the birds in the morning.  All five birds mentioned are often both heard and seen outside my windows and doors (and, apparently, also in my dreams).

cardinal blue jay s

 

 

Draw-a-Bird Day: Unclaimed

feather without a wing s

unclaimed magnetic s

feather without close up 1s

as the stars devour
their darkest dance,
I grow ever smaller–
a feather without wings,
orbiting on cloud sails,
lingering as a hole
in the breath of ghosts

feather without close up 2s

Crows.  The Oracle knows.

 

 

 

That Which Hath Wings

spiral crows 2s

“Curse not the king, no, not even in thy thoughts, and curse not the rich in thy bedchamber; for a bird of the air shall carry thy voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter.” –Ecclesiastes 10:20

Black is for nothing
waiting—shadow bird, mirrored
particles of air

of skies that open
wings, hold inside the absent
voice that shatters all

which is, which becomes,
which hath grown darkness—veiled words
becoming matter—

Nothing is waiting,
nothing sings but the silence.
All is black on black,

formless, flying on
feathers’ breath, and all shall be
now and forever

nothing nothing no
thing nothing nothing nothing
nothing nothing no

cries no conjuring–
every thing zeros falls in
to black as black is–

Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge this week is “Raven”.  I have many a crow poem and many pieces of crow art in some form of completion, and this is a poem I’ve been worrying for awhile.  I changed its form recently from a series of shadormas to haikus.  I think the shorter stanzas are better.  But it’s still a work in progress.

Yesterday I was walking on 153rd Street, which borders Trinity Cemetery, and I heard some crows–then many many crows–looking up, a murder, circling and calling against the blue sky.  I haven’t seen that in the city before.  And I thought, well, I have artwork for that too.

What it signified I don’t yet know.

crow tree sky

apolcalyptic crow 2s

 wondering why then suddenly where
the crow
diving divining reflecting sky scrying
the crow
and the tree and the meaning of be
the birth in the sky and the void in the flow
rising in greyness
the mystery flying
letting and leaving the tree now receiving
the question
crow
carries that no one can see
the sky grey the tree
the crow

always leaving

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above.  I can no more resist a crow than the moon.

apolcalyptic crow1s

Also linking to open link night on dVerse.

apolcalyptic crows wht s

Messenger

messenger collage s

swift shadow
against trees and sky
black on blue
a prism
reflecting feathers and air
shapeshifting through light

corvid in flight - Sue Vincent

A shadorma and collage for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, this week.  I can never resist a crow.

messenger close up s

 

Sky Dancing

calligraphy crows s

like calligraphy
skywriting black against blue
clouds and trees dancing

Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, gave me a chance to try an idea I’ve been thinking about for awhile.  A few years ago I did a cross-stitch poem on paper, and I was intrigued by the pattern that appeared on the back.  This seemed the perfect opportunity to see what would happen if I tried it over some watercolor collaged together.

calligraphy crows close up s

I think I may have overdone it with the stitching, but I can always pull some out; the holes in the paper will make a subtle and interesting pattern too.  I’ll look at it for awhile and think about it.

calligraphy cross stitch s

Here’s the poem side, with part of the haiku and some patterns (I wanted to try those out as well).

 

February 2017: Crows, Tides, Time

feb-2017-gird-crows-s

They end their flight
one by one–
crows at dusk
–Buson

crow-close-up-3

Shape-shifting in the gap,
the border of the map a light
of shadowing, not quite
prepared to reunite the tide
with ebb and flow implied
by intervals inside of time,
the pause between the line,
the missing paradigm unfilled,
the end of something.  Stilled.

low-tide

I’m a bit late with my February grid, but I thought it complemented Sue Vincent’s “Low Tide” prompt this week, so I did my own poem in response to both Buson and the photo (above).

crow-close-up-1

Once again, I tried a new poetry form; this one is Vietnamese.  It’s called Luc Bat, and you can read about it here.

Draw a Bird Day: the local crow

crow 1s

Crowman, are you stalking me?
call to attention
harsh, always interrupting.

crow 2s

Do you want me to look up?
I’m telling stories,
remaking the recent past.

crow 3s

But that part’s invisible…
or do you hear it?
and are you laughing at me?

crow 4s

OK—I’m leaving that world.
I’m here now, present.
I’m unfolding those regrets.

crow 5s

Are you happy now?

crow 6s

Dedicated to my local crow, whose distinctive voice never fails to bring me back to real time.

Brush and ink on rice paper.

 

There’s a Crow Flying (#4)

crow flying #4s

I feel like that black crow
Flying
In a blue sky

–Joni Mitchell

crow flying #4 close up s

It’s been almost a year since I finished the third one in this group.  You could say Time flies too…

I’ve been working on this on and off for awhile, but seeing that it’s printoctober as well as inktober and drawlloween this month, it’s appropriate that I finally completed stitching the trees.  Originally I did quite a few monoprints from one base that I kept adding colors to, all with a crow series in mind.  I think there are still a few left in my partly-started ideas bin as well.

You can see the rest of the series here.