The Raven Challenge

[Brigid Briton]

Greetings everyone!

With Tim's excellent rendition of "The Raven" (poetry-here-and-now.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=audio&action=display&thread=854&page=1), I've been thinking a lot about the old bird. The challenge is to re-write "The Raven" (yeah, I know, blasphemy!) or to write something about "The Raven", in any form you choose. My own version is somewhat lengthy, however yours can be any length you'd like. Good Luck!

Added 10/15/11: Be sure to check out Dianne's excellent reading of the following poem at: audioboo.fm/boos/506320-the-raven-revisited-by-brigid-briton

The Raven Revisited

One dark night,
alone in my room, as usual,
grieving for my lost love,
I heard what I thought
was a knock at my door,
but, could it be? I knew
no one in this place
and the lateness of the hour
precluded all but the most
desperate of callers.

I waited, hoping
it was only an errant wind,
but, there it was again,
louder and more persistent.
I steeled myself against
this intrusion, finally calling out,
“who’s there?”

No answer. Then, once again
I heard it, a sudden chill
down my spine.

“Lenore?” I dared not hope
that my lost love had returned
to me at last.

Silence.

Then the knocking started once more,
loud enough to wake the dead,
I thought, ironically.

I threw the door open,
and there was an insolent black bird,
perching above the door,
regarding me with beady-eyed
intensity.

“What the hell do you want?”
I cried, angry at his calm demeanor.

He did not condescend to answer
but his eyes were bright,
burning with some infernal fire.

“Pray tell me, you foul creature,
you spawn of Satan,
your name if nothing else.”

“Not a chance” he croaked,
ruffling his feathers and
cocking his head as if
awaiting an answer.

Not a chance,
what sort of an appellation was that
and what did this creature want,
crouched above my door
in the blackest part of night?

“Tell me please,” I said,
do you bring me news of my Lenore?

That cursed bird seemed
to smile sadly,
in some sort of sympathy,
but said once more,
“Not a chance.”

I, in my sorrow, waved my arms,
and shouted profanities most vile,
trying to drive that demon from my door.
He spoke no more,
but the determined set
of his feathers and the death grip
of his talons on his perch
all said, just as clearly,
“Not a chance”

With a bow and sweeping
gesture, I motioned for him to enter,
not knowing why,
perhaps hoping for some small diversion
from the hell my life had become.

Without hesitation,
he flew directly to the table
where the bottle of laudanum
and one glass awaited,
next to the faded portrait
of Lenore.

He landed gracefully,
and cocked his head as if to say,
“I’m rather dry, old chap
won’t you offer me a dollop?”

My heart grew hard
against that wretched bird,
here only, it seemed, to beg
a portion of what I could not spare,
my only defense against
a life of nothing but loss.

I poured myself a drink,
then stared directly into his plaintive eye,
repeating his dreadful mantra,
“Not a chance.”

[Reilley]

There once was a night-bird so black
That each visit felt like an attack.
It knew just where my heart was sore,
And pecked with sharp word Nevermore,
Carving deep that she would never be back.

[heatherwordbender]

An attempt, different take. It took a while to get beyond that insidious otherryhme than niggled its way in...

Many and many a midnight dreary, sat I dreaming, eyes all bleary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

In some fair Xanadu I'd linger, all its fair perfections ponder,

Banish grim reality's rap-rapping at my mental doors.

" 'Unwelcome flotsam," I muttered, "rapping at my mental door;

Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, but vaguely I remember, it was in slowly dying embers,

Even in those hallowed caverns casting shadows 'cross the floor.

Angrily I wished that hallowed ground would vanquish, disallow

Such vain obtrusion of the mundane upon my sacred shore.

That realm where life's dire exigencies intruded nevermore,

On my Xanadu's most sacred shore.

And a dire increasing certain crackling from beyond night's curtain

Thrilled me, filled my mind's eye with imaginings well steeped in faerie lore;

So that now -and still the beating of my heart- remembering fair Britomart,

" 'None shall find entrance to my Xanadu's fair shores,

No fae however fair shall gain him entrance to these shores.
'Done. Decided. Say no more."

Presently my heart grew braver; rather than in fear to quaver,

I set out to banish that temptation from my door;

So, well steeped in my illusions, I stepped out to stop th'incursions,

Of the faerie host I heard clip-clopping to my lair,

Whatever 'twas I hoped to accomplish as I opened wide the door;
---
A hellish smoking darkness there I found and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing

'Til a smoking, choking hot miasma sifted up from near the floor
.
Then the silence loudly broken by the crackling popping tokens,

Which dragged me kicking, screaming to reality once more.
"Fire?" This I whispered, and an echo sent it back once more,

"Fire. Run while you can!" but then I knew no more...

[heatherwordbender]

Having finally got the meter of that out of my head somewhat I'm having better luck reading different takes. lol. Stubborn prejudice.


Brigid, I like yours a lot. It's a very interesting interspersal of meter and rhyme. I think it's possibly my favorite of yours to date (which I grant I haven't seen enough of as yet). But I really like what you've done and how you've tweaked it.

Reilley -the first of this is beautiful tight rhyme. And it pleases me no end. Somehow though I have an expectation of interminable rhyme to mimic the Raven's persistence. I'm fairly certain it's an unfairness to you, but I was all set for 7-8 more verses, lol. And one tiny thing possibly more worth noting: the 'she' in your last line is only understood in the context of 'The Raven' ...whether you want it to be mere allusion or whether more distinct parity would be better, I don't know...

I very much enjoyed both though.

[diannet]

I have found a new form that I have been playing with the last couple of days. Haibun, it is a combination of prose poetry and haiku. I thought I would use it for this challenge for the exercise.


The Raven in the Mangroves
In the darkness of the mangroves, his ominous presence punctured the air. I felt his red beady eyes watching, before I spied the silent raven, all alone perched there on the branch, waiting for something to move on that swampy floor.

A silent raven
Perched in the dreary darkness
This and nothing more

Silken feathers shimmer against the dullness of the day. Suddenly in the pools reflecting the silver sky, he spies something moving, a morsel to devour. With the flutter of his swift feathered cape, the morsel is never more.

A raven in the darkness
A jewel of beauty shines
This and nothing more

He tortures his prey, hitting against the branches for the sustenance inside. Its light of life shall dim, the raven won’t be denied. So he keeps a tap, tap, tapping a little louder than before.

Red eyed raven taps
His captive upon the branch
This and nothing more



I will have to take some time to read all these poems they are quite long...

[Brigid Briton]

Wow! Every one of you has made an awesome entry into this challenge, each with it's own unique interpretation, all with more than a passing tip of the hat to Mr. Poe.

I'm happy to see Dianne introduce us to a new form, the haibun. Dianne, if you'd like to take a guest-host turn in "Form Focus" to introduce the form in more detail, just let dustandwater know and he will work you into his weekly schedule.

Thanks to all of you talented people for your participation.

I'm hoping more of you will take up the challenge and bring us another raven or two before Halloween!

[Fire Monkey]

Remembrance of Lenore

In the dimness I sit pondering
thinking thoughts so deep and dark,
As I am left surrounded
by the pieces of my heart,
In the shadows is a stirring
like a black'ning of the gloom,
And a specter bird comes fluttering
through the window
of my room.

Is it some kind of message
does it come to teach me more,
Perhaps it brings me some news
of my dear beloved Lenore,
Or is it just here to haunt me
with memories now grown cold,
Like a straw man in the field
or a thought that
I can't hold.

But this bird will tell me nothing
there's no wisdom in its head,
But its burning staring eye
leaves me cold as if I'm dead,
My Lenore has passed beyond reach
there's no talking to her now,
as the flame has ceased to flicker
and to the truth
I must bow.

Copyright October 7, 2011 by Timothy Emil Birch

I made a boo after saving this for those who would like to hear it read.

[heatherwordbender]

Fire Monkey -that is just lovely. Really well writ, if you'll take my humble O on it. There's one line "leaves me cold as if I'm dead," -this is the only spot that isn't smooth as silk for my mental read...the "as if" Otherwise, I'm very impressed. Love the way this flows.

[Fire Monkey]

I'm glad you liked it - try listening to the boo I made and see if perhaps the way you read the "as if" is different to the way I did. I think it may be that you had different stress on the line because for me, it doesn't flow well without "as if" but I'll be happy to hear what you say after you hear it - if that still doesn't work for you then I'll take another look at it. ;D

[heatherwordbender]

Beautifully read as well. ;D


For what they are worth, my thoughts are these...the "as if" doesn't fit for me semantically. As if I were...is far too questioning, a hypothetical place to ponder which you've no experience of nor expectation of returning to report on. It creates a sort of 'mental hitch' in the read for me. What I can't come up with is something that I think would fix that and keep your tone. "leaves me colder than the dead" preserves the meter but is not as piercing as a metaphor, adding a verb strengthens the metaphor but weakens the stance.

Anywho. Forgive the blather, please. I was raised with giving "constructive input." And often find myself flummoxed at the degree to which I am willing to add two cents worths.

[Brigid Briton]

Hi Tim,

A great tribute! I read your discussion with Heather, and, for me, the minor glitch occurs in the line "beyond reach". I think it would read just a bit better with the addition of "my".(This was my observation after listening to you read the piece).

I don't usually offer critiques on Challenge poems, since the whole point is to get people writing, but I thought I'd jump in here since my "ear" appears to be different from Heather's.

As usual, your reading was superb!

[Fire Monkey]

Not at all Heather - I had in fact wondered if the issue was with meter or meaning ;D I'll have to give it some thought.

Bridget has also comment [over in Spoken Word] and suggested I add "my" before "reach" in the 3rd stanza and I have to admit, it does make some sense but I am not sure if I will make either change or not.

[Brigid Briton]

Hiya Tim,

I don't think you saw my post to you on this thread since we seemed to be writing our posts at the same time, and mine came in just above yours. Of course it's up to you whether you choose to make changes. Since you've already recorded it, it would probably be too much trouble to do the whole thing over just to add a "my"!

[Fire Monkey]

No, Bridget, I didn't at the time as I must have been typing my response while you were saving your's. I did think about making the change but I personally feel that while the addition of "my" does make sense, it doesn't improve the poem a lot and while it would be easy to add it to the text, as you observe, since I have recorded the audio it just doesn't seem to be enough of an improvement for the amount of work - but I shall keep it in mind for future poems since it does have a general quality that might apply again on another poem.

[diannet]

I really have enjoyed reading these varied poems on The Raven. Fire Monkey another great boo and Brigid, I really love how you've put yours together, the style and rhythm was really well done and that slice of black humour. I wonder if you'd consider a boo of this one, I think it just calls out for one. Reilley and Heather good stuff...it never ceases to amaze me how differently we look at the same subject.

[Brigid Briton]

Hi Dianne,

I agree with you that it's really great seeing the different approaches everyone has to the same subject. I think everyone in this challenge has done quite well.

With regard to doing a spoken-word version of this, I'd really prefer not to. In my head, I heard this delivered in a male voice. I'm still holding out hope that Fire Monkey will give us his rendition of "Do Not Go Gentle", at some time in the future, but he's already stated that his preference is for doing his own stuff, so I wouldn't presume to ask him to read one of mine.

Dianne, you have a real talent for the spoken word, so if you'd like to take a stab at my version of The Raven, please feel free! (I know you're not a male, but I know you could do a better job of it than I could). You've got a certain "sassiness" when you do spoken word versions that I think would be well suited to the piece.

We haven't had any new entries in quite a while and I don't quite get that. I thought this would be a fun challenge that everyone would want to get involved in. I mean, re-writing Poe, what could be more fun?

[diannet]

Okay I'd be delighted, I might wait until the house is removed of people...I thank you for your confidence and compliment but I can record it but in front of an audience I am a complete Mr Bean.

[Brigid Briton]

Great, Dianne! I'll be looking forward to your rendition!

[dustandwater]

I'm working on it. It could be a while though...

[dustandwater]

Okay, I started this the other day and haven't got round to working on it again since. In case I never finish it, here's the start:


'pon another midnight dreary, as I wandered, weak and weary,
through the woodlands, home to many a tale of ancient lore,
while I halted, merely resting 'gainst a tree, I heard a screeching
as of bird or some such creature, but a pitch I'd never heard before,
"must be bird or some such creature, though the pitch I've never heard before,
just a bird or some such creature, I am sure."

How distinctly I recall it was in the midst of fall,
and the dead brown leaves were lying on the floor.
Keen to find my way back out, I found cause to brusquely shout
to whome'er might be about, though I'd seen no one before -
for so long I'd walked these woodlands and I'd seen no one before,
that I worried I'd be lost forevermore.


To be continued, I hope...

-D&W