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The Crows Poetry


The Crows {Redman}
(c) December 2000
Comments welcome at
The Crows
by Redman
I run as fast as I can, but the crows chase me.
They flap around my head, attacking.
I yell at myself in panic,
"Keep running, keep moving!"
But nothing seems to help until the rain.
The rain falls down like sharp glass.
It cuts me, hiding the scars of where I've cut myself.
But at least the crows are gone.
For a time they leave me be.
The rain turns back to water
Washing my blood away in rivulets,
Washing a part of me out to the sea.
I can feel myself floating on the sea, finally at peace.
I yell out to that distant self,
"Be free, stay free forever."
Then the rain stops and the crows descend.
I'm running as fast as I can, but the crows chase me.

Sometimes my voice echoes back to me.
Sometimes I hear the things I've said
And it's like a stranger speaking.
How could he seem so close
And fail so completely to understand?
Who is this stranger that speaks to me
From within my own head?

The crows flap about me, but I can't run from them now.
They settle on my arms and at my feet.
They peck at the nails in my wrists and ankles.
The crows nibble on my ears, in mockery of lovers.
They devour my penis, leaving a bloody stump.
I remember my sister at twelve picking black-eyed-susies.
There was a dark stain in her lap, at first she didn't notice.
As the stain spread, she ran in panic to the house.
Mother had told her, "One day you too . . ."
She didn't tell her it would be today.
My bloody stump reminds me of my poor sister.
She lived a difficult life, but now she's at peace.
The crows rip out my tongue, sharing it as delicacy.
One of them, the pretty female, pecks out my eyes.

In darkness I wait, the crows roosting on my shoulders.
I hear a voice in the distance calling to me,
Crying through the wilderness,
"Keep running, keep moving!"
Who is this stranger that mocks me on my cross?
Why does he scoff at my immobility?
The crows pull at my hair, dig in toward my brain.
The voice returns, as distant and familiar as before,
"Be free, stay free forever."
Who is this voice that cries out?
Why does he cry to me?

The morning dawns bright and luminous.
My eyes have grown back in the night,
My tongue, though thick with thirst, returned.
The day is so beautiful it tugs at the immobile me.
New eyes see clean, bright colors.
Then the crows descend,
Nibbling my ears like lovers.
The pretty one devours my eyes.


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