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RAVEN- Issue Three (08/02/2020)



Image Source: Potjie/Flickr



Parwana Ya Dewana?


Written by Fizza Abbas


I saw a moth

wandering around the window-pane,

in search of her confidante:

a stunning orange blob of light

with a fair skin tone and a slender body -

her ravenous teardrop,

as she fondly called him.


Nearby Charrington Rd,

a 52-ft tall, five-storey building was ablaze;

The inferno had swept through the entire space,

and there was no way to stop the music of death;

she instantly knew it was her dear rage.


Folding her wings up over her back,

she arrived at the destination

saving mortals at each step.

while her beloved was busy

flaunting his strength

like an old, white-bearded wizard

who likes to raise his hands in the air

to cast evil spells.


As came closer to her lover to prevent this outrage,

she received an elusive kiss

that soothed the cracks of her lips

but burnt her tiny self


As she waved goodbye,

I called the fire brigade.




Author Bio: Fizza Abbas is a Freelance Content Writer based in Karachi, Pakistan. She is fond of poetry and music. Her works have been published on quite a few platforms including Poetry Village and Poetry Pacific.


*About the title: The title consists of words from the Urdu language. Parwana means Moth while Deewana refers to a passionate lover.


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Day Star

(Upon the Solstice)


Written by Bernard Pearson

I will sing to the sun In its balcony sky

What light!  What light!

That  gave shadow to the first living thing

Illuminated the mountains as they grew and gave

Sparkle to the  great river’s parent babbling spring.

Sweet  Apollo rises in the east

To give The bread of life Its yeast,

And  when time has taken me to rest.

I shall  follow those Last rays as they

Fade into the sacred west.




Author Bio: Bernard Pearson is based in the United Kingdom. His work appears in many publications, including; AestheticaMagazineThe Edinburgh Review, and Crossways.  In 2017, a selection of his poetry ‘In Free Fall’ was published by Leaf by Leaf  Press. In 2019,  he won second prize in The Aurora Prize for Writing for his poem Manor Farm.


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whispering to a belly (ghost)


Written by Austin Anderson

I whisper to you when we lie in bed,  through Mom’s navel—

You the apple, the ten toes and two lungs; you used to be a kumquat and then a fig

and I don’t know when you grew your fingers or your elbows or hips but you have them now.

You are in Mom, and someday you will be out of her like death: an exhale, the spirit leaving the body,

like my soul at sunrise in the shadow of Wingate cliffs. For now, though, you are a black and white picture

and so much weight to the names we give you— a heavy ghost haunting Mom’s ribs and spine.

I want to be honest: I wrote a poem about a son; and I lie in bed in Mom’s arms, and we are scared.




Author Bio: Austin Anderson writes poetry—though friends, family would more expect him stuck in some spreadsheet or coaching forty-somethings through deadlifts fifty pounds heavier than a month ago. He's had work published in Iron Horse Review (2015 AWP Intro Journals Project Winner), The Southern Quill, & a local poetry gumball machine.


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Frailty


Written by Yewande Adebowale I have put it to test and realized that the very best of men are still men susceptible to the vagaries of life in tide and omen I idolize little these days for these eyes have seen frailty, form, and phase there are no perfect people, only the amenable there are no perfect lives, only the bearable man is fated to live and to die and somewhere in between to laugh and to cry.




Author Bio: Yewande Adebowale is a Nigerian Lawyer, storyteller, poet and author of two collections of poetry titled, "A tale of being, of green and of ing" (2019) and Voices: A collection of poems that tell stories (2016). Adebowale's works have appeared in Galleyway, Afritondo, Visual verse, Trampset, Pride Magazine, Lumiere Review and elsewhere.


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9TH DAY OF QUARANTINE


Written by Serena Piccoli

a blackbird got into my eye

fleeing from Bergamo

too much scraping of nocturnal coffins

too much smoke from crematoriums

mess up trajectories




Author Bio: Serena Piccoli is a poet, playwright, performer, and a poetry translator, who writes in both English and Italian. Piccoli's work has been published in various anthologies in the USA and UK and published a chapbook of poems, silviotrump, (Moria Poetry, Chicago, USA). Piccoli is a transfeminist, lesbian, and human rights activist, who writes about social issues, such as gender violence, economic crisis, and social injustice. She has also performed very widely at poetry and theatre festivals all over the world.


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