Crow

I just call them the Crow poems, but the full title is Crow: From the Life and Songs of the Crow. Penned by the British poet Ted Hughes (also known as Sylvia Plath’s husband) these poems display a bitter and cynical view of the universe with quasi-surreal imagery and what has been at times criticized as clumsy verse construction. Nevertheless, the character Crow and the Crow poems garnered Hughes his most critical acclaim. I have always liked his poetry. A taste of one Crow poem after the jump. This poem is titled Crow’s Theology, but if it were up to me I would rename it Hunting and Religion from an Alternative Perspective.

Crow realized God loved him-
Otherwise, he would have dropped dead.
So that was proved.
Crow reclined, marvelling, on his heart-beat.

And he realized that God spoke Crow-
Just existing was His revelation.

But what
Loved the stones and spoke stone?
They seemed to exist too.
And what spoke that strange silence
After his clamour of caws faded?

And what loved the shot-pellets
That dribbled from those strung-up mummyfying crows?
What spoke the silence of lead?

Crow realized there were two Gods-

One of them bigger than the other
Loving his enemies
And having all the weapons.