Crows are singing caw…caw ⇒ Kirno Sohochari

Crow is my amenity in dark. They are flying in the sky, seated in the cornice, strolled beside the bin, and swiftly flew high to vanish them in the dark. Crow is the solace of my existence that I can be fly high, swiftly fly down to the ground, stroll beside the bin, and able to vanish me suddenly in the deep dark horizon. I love crows because they are clever, know how to pouncing food to the bin, I like them for their dark dancing on my cornice, on an electric pole, onto the long tall trees, and on the budding clouds for torrential rainfall.

Crows are always budding in the darkest clouds of the sky; they commenced here when the darkest clouds turned to the bluish cotton after torrential rainfall. I see me rain-soaked with the crows; and then stayed in my attic like a bandaged corpus, because I have a little resistance of drowse long days under torrential rains, or staying under the oven-hot sky long. I am fit for medium and not so clever for pouncing life unto the dark or prevent my emission into the dark. What I can do is watching the crows.

Crow's caw_0_1

… Crows are the eternal ghost of the darkest unknown. Probably, they were born in the heaven with a serpent, with Adam and Eve, and the invisible Angels; maybe they were born before the eternal God creating his heaven for the serpent and for Adam and Eve…. Crow is a little allegory of infinite dark, I guess he was born before God himself born to its automatic choice to be born, to be lightning, to be creating the heaven and hell for Adam and Eve.
… … …

I like to watch them in the distance, in where they can easily be seated in the electric pole by forgetting their entire presence in life. This aloofness is very important for me to realize my greedy desire of robbing, pouncing, and hunting for everything, and realize the silence to forget the entire everything, me even.

It’s true that crows are clever and it’s a lie that they are clever; when they incubated their eggs and seating onto the eggs with aloof faces, trust me, they looked funny ghost in the dark. I tried to see them from to my attic and laughed to think that, the dark creature incubated cuckoo’s fetus without knowing anything about the humor of life.

It does matter anything that, who gives to you in birth or who pounce you from the life? Does it really matter why you are in life and why you omitted in one day by the sudden beeps of crack? Really, oh yes, really it matters serious that you need to carry the life to prove your ability in life, that, you are not lonely, and excellent in innocence or very clever to cheat your own and be the others? Does it all necessary to carry, to remember, and to reminding your own and the others that, we need to conscious about the fate of crows, so cuckoos can never lay their eggs in crow’s nest?

Crow's caw_4_2

… Crows are really the master of death. I see them many times, hanged on the electric pole just like a committed Seppuku. They looked very soothing to the end. I am feeling guilty for me that, I am not yet capable killing me by sudden, just hanging me to the electric shock, or it could have done by hanging me in the closet.
… … …

The answer is blurry to me, but I enjoy the moment when cuckoo’s fetus slowly splitting in the nest to fooling the crow; even darker and terrible to think about the sarcastic fate of the birth, breeding or death.

Crows are really the master of death. I see them many times, hanged on the electric pole just like a committed Seppuku. They looked very soothing to the end. I am feeling guilty for me that, I am not yet capable killing me by sudden, just hanging me to the electric shock, or it could have done by hanging me in the closet.

Crows death is uneven. They can embrace death by sudden cardiac arrest at the peak moment of flying high in the sky, can die easily seated on a tree and at the moment of torrential rains, or they can die and vanished them suddenly by the peak moment of pouncing stale foods to the bin. Death is dark and crows are the surname of the darkest sudden death, they commence here to the darkest unknown, and vanishing them by sudden to the electric pole, to my cornice, and to the cloudy sky. Sometimes I am strange to see them in nowhere. Yes, sometimes the black creatures omitted them to my cornice, to the trees, to the roofs of mammoth apartments, and to the bin and electric poles.

I guess, on that moment they hide them in the cloudy rainy sky to meet the eternal darkness of existence. My feeble eyes tried to see them using my telescopic binocular, but I failed to find their presence in the cotton bandaged clouds, or the glazing sunbeams, or amid the myriads clefts of a full moon night. Crows are very clever to hide their existence in dark, despite the brightest presence of lights.

Crow's caw_1_2

… It’s true that crows are clever and it’s a lie that they are clever; when they incubated their eggs and seating onto the eggs with aloof faces, trust me, they looked funny ghost in the dark. I tried to see them from to my attic and laughed to think that, the dark creature incubated cuckoo’s fetus without knowing anything about the humor of life.
… … …

Even though, I think crows are not as clever as we think them. They are foolish, greedy, envious like any other birds, and they are a lot alike to me. Sometimes they downed swiftly to the high skyscrapers and entered in my attic through the little window. They strolled and bowed over my head to get some food, I tried to drive them far away to the room, but the stubborn crows continued their tumult, and I feel depressed to hear their noisy jingle.

Crow’s voice is not sweet like cuckoos; they are not soothing like a Magpie or Nightingale or Parrot and the Mayans; their voice is confusing by the absurdity. It reminded the absurdity of existence, ambiguities of life-and-death, riddle of desire and fate, and I am sure about that, crows are the stepbrother of infamous demons. After all this, I love crows, because they helped me to see my face in their dark-grayish feathers; the birds helped me to nibble my desire to be lovable and to be laughable in life before the final cardiac arrest.

SONY DSC

… After all this, I love crows, because they helped me to see my face in their dark-grayish feathers; the birds helped me to nibble my desire to be lovable and to be laughable in life before the final cardiac arrest.
… … …

Crows are the eternal ghost of the darkest unknown. Probably, they were born in the heaven with a serpent, with Adam and Eve, and the invisible Angels; maybe they were born before the eternal God creating his heaven for the serpent and for Adam and Eve. Crow is a little allegory of infinite dark, I guess he was born before God himself born to its automatic choice to be born, to be lightning, to be creating the heaven and hell for Adam and Eve. The dark little creature is the motivator of God’s desire in this world. He is mythical but not mythos; omnipotent like the God, but not religious; a clever demon but not intended to rule the world like him; and he indeed moving here and there to fool himself and the whole creation of heaven and earth.

Crow's caw_8

… Yes, I love to fly with crows as Hughes once fly with them to the beginning heaven and returned to the burning hell. Crows are eternal dark demons; …
… … …

Crows are my inner silence for realization, for anticipation, for cognition, and for destruction and separation. I love crows, like to see them seated on the electric pole, prefer to write them in my heart as Ted Hughes wrote the poetic songs of crow’s caw.

Yes, I love to fly with crows as Hughes once fly with them to the beginning heaven and returned to the burning hell. Crows are eternal dark demons; I love to fly high with them by sudden, and love to hide me from the darkest faces of life. It’s not a bad idea, vanished your entire presence to the attic by a sudden flight like the crows, just now they vanished them to the electric poles singing the eternal crow’s song,… caw… caw… caw.

… I guess, on that moment they hide them in the cloudy rainy sky to meet the eternal darkness of existence…

Crow's caw_2

Photo and Cover-art Credit: Etsy: Birds in tree; Fine art America: Stuart Brown Black and White Photography; June hunter: fine art print blue crow series; Vimeo: Crows in electric polekids my shot: Crows in electric pole: Photo by: Bad Moj; Crows & Ravens: Pinterest; Crows: Gif Animation: Pinterest; Crow’s Gif: Tumblr;
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