Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Linda M. Crate- Three Poems

the knowing smile
of broken bones
greets him with a jolt,
i look on at the grotesquery
an intrigue in my eye
for i've never broken any
i want to know what it's like to
be disjointed or snapped
without feeling it; 
he doesn't needle or snarl at my gaze
inquisitive as it is, he just accepts it
as something that is —
once i was a star hanging in heaven
now i am this fragile beast
with only claws of words to defend me against
the worst enemies of this world,
i wonder if one day
brittle bones won't greet me with fractures
and i hope not;
it sounds painful i've always had a high threshold
but patience fails me, i don't know if i could
stand not being able to move that arm or leg or wrist
i've never stood in one place for long,
limitations were never something i learned to accept.

i'm trying to reconstruct myself
from remains of memories
bones long since past,
fractured beyond repair and yet i reach for
them as i once wished to catch the sun
burning away all sense of reality;
defined stone greeted
by the white light of morning, washed upon
rude erosion of the sea —
your hatred created medusa
those heads of snakes
listing all the mistakes of every bone you misjudged
of mankind; you steal me away in moments of moon silver
until nothing makes sense anymore,
absurdity embraces me with his wide arms
i try to shake him off,
but common sense isn't so common anymore
not all that glitters is gold
some of it is silver,
but that is just as well i never intended to be a rich fogey
i only ever wanted someone to remember my name
to be a bone stuck in someone's skull,
twisting it's imprint to become
a fossil they could never forget or leave behind
because i never wanted to be alone. 

deep and wide is my longing
i am an ocean
swallowing pride has
never been one of my strengths 
i am good at washing people
away, but i pray that i never drive you
from my shores; that i am the
waters you need to erode away your sorrow
as i slowly decimate rocks —
the past is always clawing at us,
we are not good at letting things go
one day all these troubles
will fall off us as dirty rags until then, my love,
it's time to close our eyes and read between the 
lines of our future; because all these things
we're so focused on won't matter
all that matters is our love
it will ascend even higher than the clouds
or stars —
you know the scars of stars
better than i do, the flames have burnt you more
than me; 
you are the moon tethering me back,
keeping me under control
sometimes my hurricanes of emotions take over me
but you're good at making me laugh again
the topography of a smile graces my
face simply because you are amazing enough to
drive away all my fears and doubts
with a few reassuring words —
drown your despondency in my waters, let the sharks
pick them apart until nothing remains but blossoms
of coral red lunacy;
maybe there is no tomorrow all this thinking does me no good
i am waiting for a sign to leave this place behind,
so we can go to a better height
away from the apathy stings of the world
celebrating one another
instead of falling to pieces yet again.

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