Our Quiet Raven

[TheIllyricist]

Our Quiet Raven

Still and silent sat the sagest me,
Upon grey hills fortified by roughest sea.
Bleak be the clouds blotting sun above
As dark water below seizes with a mourning glove.

Wait, wait, waiting for weighted words,
Woven with whispering wings.
Perched I have yet to be, but sitting
I see when he flies to me.

‘Hello,’ I say to my oldest of friends,
‘Quiet raven, what news do you bring?’
Speak he does with muted tongue
That only heart can comprehend.

Darkness he says to me and says no more
But I will not accept his silly play
And let him hide under blackened feathers,
‘Oh quiet raven, tell me true what you mean to say.’

Raven true he says no more,
But the deed is done and the mind whispers
Darkness darkness darkness
Combing through the forest but I am lost.

Black spirit of the sky
Will you aid me on this journey
Through the being maze?
But raven true he says no more.

Surface scratches yet I cannot grasp the gravel
My oldest of friends so easily sinks his talons,
He soars above the forest and sees
My madness mazing me.

Waiting for the light, to see the inferno
And that’s when the quiet raven
Silently laughs with beating wings,
Raven true he says no more.

Cursed friend what is the darkness
That you speak to me, I see
The forest but not beyond,
Take me to this midnight sea!

The quiet raven ever mocks with his laugh
As I fall and fumble upon my path
Through brush, branch, and woodland grass
Until at last I see the clearing.

Ashen trunks and crippled leaves
Broken oak, the wind sings to me
Of sorrow tides, go back go back
The darkness can ever wait.

But the road grows ever clearer,
A trail of black sand in between
This neverwhere, this creeping death,
Trees pointing bony fingers to the cavern.

Ghastly beast upon rocky wall
Jaw agape, beckoning me
With silent promise, answers buried
Deep in the withering where.

Engulfed, the darkness soaks me
Inside the endless midnight sea
And so I stroke to swim a way
Not to drown in this lonely place.

No end to the cavern with its banks
Of solitude flanking upon all sides,
Oh how I wish my friend the quiet raven
Could seek me out and lead the way.

Ah, but there the light flashes upon the walls!
Flickering with the dance of fluttered wings,
Out in front a sight I see that is beyond beauty
Ever captured upon the page.

All alone, nestled amongst the cupped palms of darkness
Rests a shimmering sapphire pool that glows,
Flickering tendrils kiss the walls with lightest touch
A flash, the soul itself so pure it eludes the pen of man.

I have beaten and I have won
The secrets of the raven will be no more,
I step forward to peer into the liquid gem;
What I see haunts me forever more.

Youth has grayed but dark remains,
Upon the familiar cliff I shiver
On the sill of nature, perched
Was the most foolish me.

Darkness understood ever so foul
Like the speech of my raven,
If only I could hear him then
I would have stayed in the forest.

My oldest friend is gone or is he with me,
Drowned by darkness I am deaf
With madness but no escape
But that which awaits.

One final glance to the great beyond
And I stretch my blackened wings
Diving as the wind sings to me,
My quiet raven is no more.




http://www.rapbattles.com/showthread...Different-Hues
http://www.rapbattles.com/showthread...To-be-with-you

[Emily]

There's a lovely poetic tone throughout this poem. At times it sings sweet lullaby's.
The melodic flow in some of your stanzas is fragrant, uncontaminated, so unbelievably clean. It almost feels like it has an old English influence. I imagined the word 'thus' coming into play but 'alas' it never did lol. The vibe I got in certain sections was sophisticated and harmonious. There were some stanza's where there were obvious rhymes, they fell into place easily, syllables perfect for me, mood, the lot.
I also enjoyed the imagery that you created in this piece.
Certain descriptions were unblemished and clear as day. There's something about that, that makes a piece fresh, as if you can feel the breath of it, the pulse, the life within it flutter. Well done with the romantic use of breezy wording. That makes it uncluttered with delicate description being a star in this piece.
Certain 'little things', I feel would have helped the flow. For example, most lines start with a capital, even though it's a continuation of the previous line. Imo, it would have been better to keep the sentence in structure as it shows there's no pause there or new line.
What I mean to say is, to the eye, the capital on each and every line looks nice, but for the sake of reading, without a full stop, the capital shows me it's there for show only and not for a new sentence, which can confuse the reader a bit by fucking up their chi LOL, (I mean flow). No biggie at all, I'm just giving my opinion (and I'm being very fussy, so, you know, grain of salt). I'm no English professor, no lit major, never been top of the class (except for imagination lol) so keep in mind that all of my feed is only ever my own opinion and may clash with your own thoughts or the thoughts of others.
It's just an opinion, that's all. And there is no right or wrong with art, just perspective.
I like the slight rhymes you have going here. They're not shoved in your face but follow the honeyed talk of your elegant wording, your talent for characterization and your knack for setting a scene with mood. The rhymes don't take over but add to the allure of the piece imo.
I have to tell you, you have a talented voice for poetry and the licence you hold takes advantage of confidence, which shows convincingly by believable story telling.

" Still and silent sat the sagest me,
Upon grey hills fortified by roughest sea.
Bleak be the clouds blotting sun above
As dark water below seizes with a mourning glove...."

What an enchanting opening. The pace is perfect. I especially like the third line here, ...
"..Bleak be the clouds blotting sun above..." Just beautiful.

"... Wait, wait, waiting for weighted words,
Woven with whispering wings.
Perched I have yet to be, but sitting
I see when he flies to me..."
And the second stanza follows the essence of the first.
Elegant, charming, poetic.

"... Cursed friend what is the darkness
That you speak to me, I see
The forest but not beyond,
Take me to this midnight sea!

The quiet raven ever mocks with his laugh
As I fall and fumble upon my path
Through brush, branch, and woodland grass
Until at last I see the clearing...."

I really like those stanza's. The flow, the rhyme, just the way it falls so smooth.
I don't know if it's just me, or what, but sometimes I'm more immersed in rhyme, and
sometimes it seems there is no rhyme at all. I put some of this down to my accent because I
re-read it all a few times and noticed that I can twist and twirl some pronunciations to
fit in a manner that doesn't let me stagnate. Regardless, the story is well written, full of
imagery that lets the mind linger a little longer than it should. A testament
to your abilities.
I would say, keep your punctuation uniform. If you don't want to use commas and full stops, don't.
But to have some stanzas with, and some without, doesn't give the piece the polish it deserves.

"... Youth has grayed but dark remains,
Upon the familiar cliff I shiver
On the sill of nature, perched
Was the most foolish me..."

^^I think I'm in love with this stanza. I know I love it because I wish I wrote it lol.
You wrote something really lovely here, and It's a pleasure to read and feed it.
We don't get a lot of poems of this style, so it's nice to mix up the norm and read something
as elegant as this.

Beautiful read The Illyricist.
Thank you.

[Sammy]

Its always scary to interpret a worker's work because (personally) effort are made into crafting something and true sign of respect is recognition, if that make sense. I will try my best to interpret this.

I felt there were numerous themes running about this piece. Life, death, aging, youth, consciousness, conscience and i felt it perfectly examines the stages of a person's life span. Now its VERY possible that i am way off but the first stanza...

Still and silent sat the sagest me,
Upon grey hills fortified by roughest sea.
Bleak be the clouds blotting sun above
As dark water below seizes with a mourning glove.

what i got was of an observation. Perhaps the younger stage in life where our first priority is to observe everything around us. Grey Hills, roughest seas, those may very well refer to different personalities we've come across. LOVE the image of a wave as a glove. powerful imagery there!

Wait, wait, waiting for weighted words,
Woven with whispering wings.
Perched I have yet to be, but sitting
I see when he flies to me.

that next stanza to me represent our take off point. I've yet to be, i think, mean that the true self hasn't yet be realized or actualized. Akin to a baby bird that hasn't experience the plight of flight. This line also signifies the arrival of the raven. The raven, again, to me, represents that eagerness to experience the world. That voice of adventure, at least at this stage. Awesome alliteration as well <--ha i can do that too

‘Hello,’ I say to my oldest of friends,
‘Quiet raven, what news do you bring?’
Speak he does with muted tongue
That only heart can comprehend.

i felt another comment on heart vs mind here. A sense of wonder and exploration craved by our developing person. That was one of my favorite stanza.

Darkness he says to me and says no more
But I will not accept his silly play
And let him hide under blackened feathers,
‘Oh quiet raven, tell me true what you mean to say.’

I assessed the raven as the inner voice. And at this stage the voice was a voice of caution or rather conscience? observed experience? Darkness was another prevalent theme running rampant in this poem and i will take it as it is often used, as a metaphor for turmoil, ferment, strife lol, all the stuff that usually represent "the dark".


TBC (sorry for the cut-off but i have to get back to work but i'll continue this later today)

[Sammy]

(continue...)

Raven true he says no more,
But the deed is done and the mind whispers
Darkness darkness darkness
Combing through the forest but I am lost.

Black spirit of the sky
Will you aid me on this journey
Through the being maze?
But raven true he says no more.

Surface scratches yet I cannot grasp the gravel
My oldest of friends so easily sinks his talons,
He soars above the forest and sees
My madness mazing me.

Very interesting development here. One comment in particular had me thinking for a few minutes, lol. "Being maze". I'm not sure if this was done with intent but to me those two words points to existentialism. "Purpose", "confusion", man all the playful joy of any theosophy's past time was well described with those two words! Keeping with the theme of growth and stages of life, i have to assume that he's at his teenage years where purpose is a series of corridor and where it leads, no one knows. The "maze" theme carried to the next stanza where it serves as a product of angst or actually "angst" a product of it? The surface scratch/grasp gravel, cool alliteration aside, was an awesome symbolism for knowledge of self, or rather, lack thereof. So fuckin fun trying to dissect this ha. awesome segments. and again, awesome imagery!



Waiting for the light, to see the inferno
And that’s when the quiet raven
Silently laughs with beating wings,
Raven true he says no more.

Cursed friend what is the darkness
That you speak to me, I see
The forest but not beyond,
Take me to this midnight sea!

Now i'm more confident with my assessment of the raven. The character is clearly in a state of stasis at this stage. Maybe the fresh out of highscool years, idk, but If the Raven is one's inner voice, as i had supposed so from the beginning, then the ridiculing laugh may well be the nagging feeling of "You should be doing more with ur life". I like my interpretation but i'm almost sure i'm 95 percent off lmao!

Ashen trunks and crippled leaves
Broken oak, the wind sings to me
Of sorrow tides, go back go back
The darkness can ever wait.

at the risk of sounding redundant...awesome imagery! So that stanza to me seems to me, a commentary on being "too comfortable". Going back to old ways if the track ahead is too difficult.

But the road grows ever clearer,
A trail of black sand in between
This neverwhere, this creeping death,
Trees pointing bony fingers to the cavern.

Ghastly beast upon rocky wall
Jaw agape, beckoning me
With silent promise, answers buried
Deep in the withering where.

"the withering where" oh man that sounds soooo fucking ill! I feel these two stanzas observed the scary path ahead. The promise of a brighter future may be spoken in silence, like we're not sure or something. thats what i got out of it.

(bday party to attend so will be back to continue, lol. sorry, man!)

[whoami]

Still and silent sat the sagest me,
Upon grey hills fortified by roughest sea.
Bleak be the clouds blotting sun above
As dark water below seizes with a mourning glove.

As you may recall, I am a definitive fan of alliteration. >=] I can appreciate your utilization of it here; swell job. The first line was instantly appealing and captivating and the second line was instantly gripping with imagery. Great start in my opinion. Already getting a mixture of an Annabel Lee and Game of Thrones-esque vibe.

Wait, wait, waiting for weighted words,
Woven with whispering wings.
Perched I have yet to be, but sitting
I see when he flies to me.

Your usage of repetition is reminiscent of Poe. Repetition is always a risk (to me), but I like your utilization here. "Waiting for weighted words" is a wonderful line.

‘Hello,’ I say to my oldest of friends,
‘Quiet raven, what news do you bring?’
Speak he does with muted tongue
That only heart can comprehend.

I like your diction here. "Muted tongue" reads and sounds so cool. It's that old school poetical aesthetic.

Darkness he says to me and says no more
But I will not accept his silly play
And let him hide under blackened feathers,
‘Oh quiet raven, tell me true what you mean to say.’

Raven true he says no more,
But the deed is done and the mind whispers
Darkness darkness darkness
Combing through the forest but I am lost.

Interesting artistic language all around, maintaining that true poetical vibe. I am a fan of the "darkness" repetition. I envision the black cloud that is depression, or perhaps more deeply existential angst, swarming and overwhelming the mind of the narrator. Paints the tone of the maddening I presume is to come.

Black spirit of the sky
Will you aid me on this journey
Through the being maze?
But raven true he says no more.

I mention a black cloud and here you mention a black spirit, that being the raven itself. Definitely reminiscent of Poe's The Raven. I can see the raven as a manifestation of the character's angst and despair.

Surface scratches yet I cannot grasp the gravel
My oldest of friends so easily sinks his talons,
He soars above the forest and sees
My madness mazing me.

I like the imagery presented here. The connection with the raven and everlooming madness is now being made.

Waiting for the light, to see the inferno
And that’s when the quiet raven
Silently laughs with beating wings,
Raven true he says no more.

Cursed friend what is the darkness
That you speak to me, I see
The forest but not beyond,
Take me to this midnight sea!

The quiet raven ever mocks with his laugh
As I fall and fumble upon my path
Through brush, branch, and woodland grass
Until at last I see the clearing.

Madness is setting in, but the narrator is fraught, fixated on escaping such torment. All the while his sinister derangement is provoking him to further explore the depths of madness. It's like staring into the depths of the abyss - the void - wondering where the madness begins and ends, and if it even begins or ends at all.

Ashen trunks and crippled leaves
Broken oak, the wind sings to me
Of sorrow tides, go back go back
The darkness can ever wait.

A warning perhaps. One does not have to step into the bounds of madness just yet for madness comes for us all eventually.

But the road grows ever clearer,
A trail of black sand in between
This neverwhere, this creeping death,
Trees pointing bony fingers to the cavern.

Ghastly beast upon rocky wall
Jaw agape, beckoning me
With silent promise, answers buried
Deep in the withering where.

"Neverwhere," "creeping death," "withering where." This has a very cosmic horror vibe to it - Lovecraftian inspired it feels like to me. Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!

Engulfed, the darkness soaks me
Inside the endless midnight sea
And so I stroke to swim a way
Not to drown in this lonely place.

No end to the cavern with its banks
Of solitude flanking upon all sides,
Oh how I wish my friend the quiet raven
Could seek me out and lead the way.

Almost feel like this is a paradox. As if the so-called "darkness" that "soaks me" is actually the light of day, the existence of sanity, and that the narrator actually prefers the beckoning madness as opposed to being rationally sane in such a seemingly empty world.

Ah, but there the light flashes upon the walls!
Flickering with the dance of fluttered wings,
Out in front a sight I see that is beyond beauty
Ever captured upon the page.

I immediately imagine and think of the "allegory of the cave" or Plato's Cave which is a fantastic allusion if purposely done so; and even if not purposely so, still an awesome scenery that is ineffable for there is so much coursing through my mind from these four lines alone. Brilliant stanza right here. My favorite thus far.

All alone, nestled amongst the cupped palms of darkness
Rests a shimmering sapphire pool that glows,
Flickering tendrils kiss the walls with lightest touch
A flash, the soul itself so pure it eludes the pen of man.

I have beaten and I have won
The secrets of the raven will be no more,
I step forward to peer into the liquid gem;
What I see haunts me forever more.

Youth has grayed but dark remains,
Upon the familiar cliff I shiver
On the sill of nature, perched
Was the most foolish me.

Getting that Harry Potter Mirror of Erised vibe here. Also, it appears the narrator's "familiar cliff" may be the staring into the void I mentioned earlier. It seems the narrator has succumbed and is ready to submit himself to the madness at last.

Darkness understood ever so foul
Like the speech of my raven,
If only I could hear him then
I would have stayed in the forest.

My oldest friend is gone or is he with me,
Drowned by darkness I am deaf
With madness but no escape
But that which awaits.

One final glance to the great beyond
And I stretch my blackened wings
Diving as the wind sings to me,
My quiet raven is no more.

And there we have it: the narrator has become the raven - or was the raven all along. The narrator was teetering on the brink of madness all along, desperately fighting for sanity, yet desperately clinging to madness. This in itself seems a bit of an insane notion - to cling to madness. Thus, perhaps the narrator was the raven all along. In other words, perhaps the narrator was mad all along and he had a temporary lapse of sanity.

Nice writing overall, amigo. I really liked this poem. Clearly reminiscent of Poe, yet a different route to make it your own. The imagery and depiction of madness were very good, very interesting to read and imagine. This felt like a complete journey - had a promising beginning with a satisfactory ending. It maintains the structure and integrity of a story, yet allows the reader to interpret nearly everything that is happening despite the seeming forthrightness of some lines. Great work and thanks for sharing. Will definitely be reading your work as you make it available; will hit you with some feedback on the Wolven Song Saga piece here soon.