Sunday, July 26, 2015

Linda M. Crate- Three Poems


in pursuit of truth 
 
everyone tells me
that i am strange as if that's the 
worst insult you can 
fling,
but i still dive into the wreck
into the me and she and he and all the blues
and greens and blacks;
i prefer the golden scarlet carnelian kisses of
sunsets burning against my flesh
and dancing in my hair,
but sometimes just sometimes
i embrace the darkness and the void
they always want the sunshine but i revel in the rain
washing against my skin as i descend the ladder
and leap into the inky waters of 
transformation—
maudlin faces greet me beyond the surface and so i 
dig deeper
because there is always something more
than what is anticipated
i find peace in the eyes of dead ships and mermaid fins
to see the light kiss the water
like a lover,
and i wonder if the moon is jealous of the sea
so she crashes her angrily against the rocks out of mere
jealousy and spite because she knows the sun
has been untrue;
no one joins me on these voyages
they are too wild for them to reckon but i have always been
sitting on the teeth of the most ferocious eloquency
ready to cut into the truth.



wicked wolf 
 
bones are heavy to carry
i refuse to remember
yours
it would serve no purpose
except to make me cry,
and i've already
have birthed enough rivers of grief
into existence in the vanity
that is your name;
nothing i could say or do would make
you love me the way i loved you
because you never did even
care not even a little bit
you don't destroy people you love—
all you ever offered me
were the silences that cut my heart
i gave you all of me and carried your bones
so many moons simply so you could shrug mine off
like snakeskin and bite into my throat
with fangs 
so merciless even a vampire would cringe
before using them,
you are the most profound monster;
even other monsters wouldn't rip scars so deep as you—
remember the bad guy always dies in the
novel and in the movie and in life
they say the good die young but sometimes so do the
wicked,
and i hope for once life is fair
makes you lose faith in a love you never believed in
as she rips you petal from petal so none of the
roses you have stolen are yours.



forgetting your name 
 
i'll color the roses
scarlet
with your blood,
and paint the moon in the silver
of your soul;
will rip you apart and feed your
bones to the wolves
you claim are your fathers—
i'll let the carrion
feast upon your flesh for ravens are
my brothers and crows my
cousins,
and your mocking lips shall fall into
silence;
no longer shall anyone hear
the song of the
mocking jay and the world will sleep more
restful knowing one monster has
been slain because
i am a monster slayer 
capable of tying her own corset and everything
my heels will be at your throat
you'll see the fury in my eyes you always
denied was there—
i will burn you in the fires of your own lust
until you can stand no more,
and watch as the universe forgets
your name.
 
 

1 comment:

  1. Really cool and clever poetry.

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