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“I began writing poetry as a teenager,

I picked it back up a few years ago.”

We know this person as Raven BlackRose

on All Poetry and Raventhegypsy on aol.

Raven has been a regular in the

Late Night Poets Chat on AP since May 2014.

She first discovered the room on AOL by accident

and thinks it is a great place to share poetry.

She also feels that the

LNP Poets are a very encouraging group

and enjoys hanging out there.

Her poetry has been published in two different anthology books (2 poems in each) edited and arranged by Author’s Deborah Brooks Langford and Susan Joyner-Stumpf of Debbie and Susan’s Poetry Corner

and published by Destiny to Write Publications.

 

Debbie’s and Susan’s Poetry Corner and Books  

Destiny to Write Publications 

 

These publications are available at: LuLu.com

poetry stars2product_thumbnail.php

Poetry Stars an Anthology

The Poets Pool an Anthology

You can read Ravens poetry at:

All Poetry Raven_BlackRose

and also at

 Late Night Poets Blog

Get to  know our spotlight poet by reading our LNP Spotlight Profile Below~!

 Name : Tina L. Smith

Where do you Live : Texas

Screen Name: Raven BlackRose

Origin of S/N:

Raven BlackRose is the name of a role play character I

created about 5 years ago.

How long in LNP ?  On and off for the last 2 years in AOL

and since May 2014 in All Poetry.

Age:   53

Occupation : 

Currently I stay home and take care of my grand babies.

 Education: 

High School but life has taught me more

then any school could.

 Few People know that you are interested in…

Poetry/Writing.

Favorite Author:

 Many but if I have to choose Laurell K. Hamilton

Favorite Book….

Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake Series

Top 5 interests / hobbies outside of poetry…

 1)  Free Form Role Playing

 2)  Gardening/Ponding

  3) Most Crafts

 4) Horseback riding/Trail riding

 5) Flea markets

Favorite Sports/Teams:

New Orleans Saints of course I was

born and grew up in Louisiana.

Favorite Music/Band : No one in particular.

I listen to a wide variety of music.

Favorite Movie:

 If I have to pick an all time favorite

I’d say Dirty Dancing

 Favorite Foods:  Cajun

 Favorite Poet:  Poe

 Favorite Poem:

The Raven

  BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
            Only this and nothing more.”
    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
            Nameless here for evermore.
    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
            This it is and nothing more.”
    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
            Darkness there and nothing more.
    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
            Merely this and nothing more.
    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
            With such name as “Nevermore.”
    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”
    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
            She shall press, ah, nevermore!
    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
            Shall be lifted—nevermore!
 

If you could meet any poet, who would it be?

Edgar Allen Poe

What made you choose that poet?

He was the first poet I ever read and is still my favorite.

Current Projects:

I have enough poems right now to put together a few books, so I am looking into that. I will probably publish in a few more Anthologies and maybe try my hand at lyrics. I also have a few short story and books ideas I’m working on. Oh and did I mention in my spare time I like to create one of a kind hair-bow and tutu’s for little princesses and divas?

Favorite Quote:

We loved with a love that was more then love. Edgar Allan Poe

Top  websites  you would recommend

allpoetry.com

late night poets

 My role play websites, I am in the process of revamping and combining these to put them back into play.

The BlackRose Manor

BlackRose Manor

~

 My Creative Side…

My Mamaw Made It Custom

one of a kind hairbows, tutu’s and more.

My Mamaw Made It 

 

 Up until recently I hid behind a persona I created for free form role play, called Raven BlackRose. She is a sexy raven haired vixen with piercing sapphire blue eyes that change color with her moods. She started out as a simple gypsy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Turned by a tainted vamp she ended up a vampire/lycan hybrid. Her gypsy roots gave her the ability to shape shift into several forms, such as, a large black raven or a sleek black wolf, both sporting silver eyes. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know but that is the beauty of role play. She is truly everything I am not. She is my dark side, that part of me that I could never be but so enjoy playing. She is the seductress who will lure you in only to rip your heart out, and laugh while she dines on it as you lay bleeding at her feet. She is only one of many characters I have created and played. I call them the voices in my head, some speak louder than others, some never find their voice, but together they let me lose myself when I just really need to escape. Now for the boring part.

I am probably one of the most normal, boring, people you’d ever meet. There really isn’t much to say about me. I am a wife, a mother, and now a grandmother. I live in the country, love animals, have horses, dogs, etc. I enjoy writing. I enjoy creating stories. I purchased my first computer shortly after internet gained popularity and I’ve been online ever since. I enjoy meeting and making friends with people from all over the world. Some I’ve kept in touch with for many years, others just seem to drift away. I am one of those people who has to constantly be doing something, when I get bored with one thing I’ll move on to another, and then come back to that project at another time. I am tech savvy, a bit of a nerd, and a hopeless romantic. I am a loner, I could very easily become recluse, yet other times I crave the chaos of the crowds. I have no problem functioning in a crowd, taking charge, etc. I am one of those people that total strangers find themselves telling their deepest darkest secrets to and then wondering what ever possessed them to reveal so much. I am an empath, a child of nature, my element is fire, I was born under the sign of Sagittarius and I am a complete contradiction. Just when you think you have me figured out, I’ll surprise you.