Mysterious Bird of Discourse

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Meeting the Bar:  “Writing Narrative Poetry”  (posted by Bjorn)

“Today I thought we should explore the world of narrative poetry. As some of you who follows I also write flash fiction and today I want you tell me a story and use the tools for a storytelling and fit into a poem.

Today I want you to tell me a story (fiction or nonfiction), new or ancient.

Use the following literary devices.

.Select if the author will be a participator (first person), or an observer (third person) or an omnipotent being that can see all the perspectives.
.Select the tense it will be written in, usually past or present, but future can be quite interesting.
.Have a clear beginning putting us at a specific place and a time. Introduce the place using senses and imagery, a great way to use your poetic skills.
.Introduce us to the main character(s). Make me see and understand the person(s), try to describe the person by showing their actions rather than just describing them. If you describe them try to convey them in that distinguishing feature that makes me feel them.
.If you want to include some dialogue I think it will make the story more real.
.Let it have s clear end with or without a twist (change of perspective). Remember that even open ends is ending. Remember that the pace of story telling is just as important as poetic pace and rhythm, most good stories follow a narrative arc.
.Stories or poetry that convey a clear moral are often the strongest
.Think about a genre for your poem/story, it can fiction or for real.


Yet again, reclining on my iron bed, I see that beady-eyed raven. He stares from a perch outside my window. He is night-fright cawing, ‘Nevermore.’ He keeps my mind dark with dreams of my lovely Lenore. Yet, she is no more. Why does he persist in torturing me? My chamber feels like a prison, purple curtains rustle of their own accord, and still the raven caws, ‘Nevermore.’

I must be dreaming; am I screaming the name of my lost Lenore? Silence
when I ask, is it you come to visit, Lenore? Is it merely wind breathing upon my curtains, or is it more? Raven adheres to ‘Nevermore.’ I ponder the meaning of this single word, with no help from the bird.

I call him a devil sent to tear my brains, scramble them over my lost Lenore. His only response–’Nevermore.’ Though I am weary and beseech him to leave me in peace, he remains upon his perch, and vows to leave me, nevermore.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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22 Responses to Mysterious Bird of Discourse

  1. Frank Hubeny says:

    That raven did remind me of a devil.


  2. rothpoetry says:

    Great write! Sounds like a bad nightmare that one cannot wake up from quick enough!


  3. Gina says:

    the dreams that followed into waking, nevermore repeated like the chant of some evil minion


  4. Poe knows how sad that word is, even maddening as you show here, for we are always reaching to an accessible future, no matter how distant, but even just a moment ago is closed off to us.


  5. I love the retelling of a story in another form.. great choice and if you Lenore and Nevermore… then we all know the story… good one.


  6. Beverly Crawford says:

    A lovely poe–ism. Poe’s Nevermore raven is imprinted in the minds of so many during school years. Yours is a nice re-visit!


  7. memadtwo says:

    I love repetition in poetry, and it’s very effective here. (K)


  8. lynn__ says:

    I like your title and the purple curtains 🙂


  9. merrildsmith says:

    I really like this nightmarish quality of this. It’s a wonderful re-telling–or another angle to The Raven.
    Well done!
    You may know this, but Poe’s raven is based on Charles Dickens’ pet raven. Dickens had him stuffed and preserved, and now he lives on (in a way) at the Free Library of Philadelphia.


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