Sunday, January 11, 2015

Linda M. Crate- Three Poems

i will fly

all we have are moments,
and all anyone wants me to do with mine
is waste them in the waiting
for the anticipation
of their arrival;
but i am done waiting—
all i have are moments and i am going
to make them count,
i am going to live my life on my
own terms;
no longer will i allow anyone to hold me
back insist that i wait
there are rabbits i have to follow
and looking glasses to
and dreams i have to follow
because if i do not pursue the innermost
longings of my heart i might just
into a flame that never dies
burning anyone and everything in my path
i don't want that—
so i am losing everyone and everything
that's ever held me back
i will not be trapped in all the places that i dislike
and lose out on all the magic life is meant
to be
i will remember my wings,
and i will fly.


you tell me my voice
is a weapon
that i should not use
but it is the
only dagger you will allow
me to wield,
and so i will never surrender
because in doing so i would allow you
the power over me
i've given no one else;
you must think me a fool to assume
blindly i'd walk into your traps
i am no simple raven
too many lessons i have learned
and too many feathers
given to people that did not deserve them
i am wary now—
my song will be sung
from every tower
should i will it,
and i will if you will not back down
because a coward i shall never be for the sake
of anyone's convenience;
i will do the right thing even if i must
stand alone,
and i will speak up for those without voice
because i know what it's like to be
thoughtlessly torn down—
i know what it's like to be discounted because
of my age, my gender, and even my
don't tell me i don't know what i'm talking about
the world knows no color when it comes to
in this cruel world we all feel like we walk alone
but i know there must be others like me
tired of being lone,
and why should it be a crime then
for us to walk together?
perhaps, the one that should be voiceless
is you.

immortality of youth

this is not my home, the country is;
i miss all her sloping hills
and valleys
the creeks and forests and rivers
i used to dance with and by
miss walking through fields and meadows
in my bare feet
or walking miles and not seeing
a soul;
the city isn't like that—
i miss the countryside of my youth
with all her secret gardens
pockets and corners
her keys of wisdom and light,
and i wish i could bottle up the immortality
of my youth so i 'd never
have to be an adult and i'd never worry
i could simply sing with the faeries,
swim with the mermaids,
laugh with the pixies,
run with the fauns,
fly with the dragons and dance
with the druids;
i'd be innocent of all the evils of the world,
and my wild, wild heart would be
free to dance
and the wind could play with my hair and
i could feel the mud squish
between my toes,
and i could laugh without ever having to consider
or fathom the bigger problems of the world.

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