she needs you

by Linda M. Crate

she claws at you with such desperation i feel sorry for her. i wonder if this is what i must have looked like to everyone when i was chasing after someone who gave me up, too. always seeking your approval and your affection i wonder if you weren't her first. she tries so hard to act like she doesn't care, but she's like me. she cares too much and loves too hard. i never thought either of those things sins but they always seem to push people away. just know she's a delicate flower. those thorns are a lie. a defense mechanism that doesn't work. she needs you. regardless of what you may believe. 

to be selfish

by Linda M. Crate

you say it's selfish
for a woman's
body to be
her own,
but in what way is that
selfish?
a woman should still be considered
herself even if she falls
pregnant,
and she has more voice
than a corpse
so why should she be silenced simply
because she wants rights to
her own body?
i think you're the selfish one, sir,
demanding that a woman
give her life to a child that may or may
not endanger her life
and you do not know the circumstances
that lay in her path
she is more than a mere vessel for
bringing children into this
world;
so we will not listen to men like you
we will be selfish if we must—
our bodies, our hearts, our dreams, our ambitions
are our own and even if they include
motherhood
the choice is ours and ours alone.

error of your ways

by Linda M. Crate

your eyes
sharp as diamonds
cutting through
glass
you sought to destroy her,
but i stood before you
with the fury of a thousand flames
to burn through your
every winter;
the look of surprise on your face
amused me—
you are the night time fear and the dark morning,
but i am the dawn of aurora
you were the violent of blue but i was the gold
light burning through your dark heart;
and you ran from me in an attempt to preserve
yourself
because that's what cowards do
they run from the truth—
you're a man of a thousand faces
transforming like the
most vile villains in anime;
well, come here, little wolf, i am the hero and the
light always chases out the darkness in
the end
let me show you the error of your ways.

he's not worth it

by Linda M. Crate

the tupperware sits on the table. a monument to her once love. the macaroni stains still present months later. she tried many moons to forget him. sitting on my couch with a bottle of whiskey, i just let her drown. there are no words i can say to make this all right. i've tried. so i helplessly watch her sink further into despair. when she's not looking i throw away the tupperware bowl. one less thing to remember him by. he isn't even worth the whiskey, but she won't see it that way. i cannot wait until tomorrow. maybe then i can convince her the sun will shine again. now i just listen. reassure her that she's done nothing wrong and he's just a jerk. she says some men are, but so are some women. i keep the latter part of that sentence to myself. 

not worth it

by Linda M. Crate

"it's not worth it," you said
you're right,
but how do i get out of this fog?
does anyone really want to work at a
sub shop?
i need to pay my bills
somehow,
but i've never felt so dismayed
all my dreams are anywhere but here;
i love my family,
but this place has always been bad for me
i'm always happier elsewhere—
can't take all the isolation of being buried in snow
and all these painful memories,
i know everyone has hell to go through
but these flames hurt so badly
i can scarcely focus on anything else but the pain;
just want to know that all this suffering
was worth it—
they tell me love is the only healing magic in this world
i have always loved only to be left behind
certainly could use someone's love
to sew me back together
now,
and i'm an emotional wreck over the stupidest things
right now;
just want to breathe but find that i cannot—
wish i could be so brave as you to just quit but i'd have
nowhere to go and the bills would still need paid
i'd get evicted from my apartment
and the government wouldn't let me live freely again
tell me,
does anyone deserve to suffer?
all i want to do is close my eyes, and when i open them
for all the misery to have washed away

greed

by Linda M. Crate

the world worships
money
as if it were a new
religion,
and the only temple and only
mosque they need
is a shop with a sale;
but not me—
i've seen the allure of money
fail those who worship it
people
betting their lives savings
only to lose it all,
and people spending it all on booze
until all they have left is
a hangover;
money is no solution
it doesn't solve everything
only makes greed worse
because it is only meant to be a means
and not an end—
we were never meant to worship it
like people do,
and we wonder why the world is in chaos
because people love money more than
people and they love things
more than people, too, without seeming to realize
people were meant to be loved and things and
money to be used—
some people worship money,
but i will never bend my knees to the
mosque of greed.

i want truth

by Linda M. Crate

naked truths
are hard to find, anymore,
everyone wants
sugarcoated lies;
but not me
i want the truth stripped of all the
lies no matter how much it
hurts
because the truth will set me free
from the things that no
longer serve me—
it will free me from the linnets wings of
things that have lost their magic,
and people who would
drag me down into their negativity
or hold me back;
i have no time to waste i will make
my dreams come true
it's now or never—
tomorrow may never come
and today is half-over,
these moments will not come back to me
so i must spend them wisely;
i will no longer
stand in place waiting for a moment
that may or may never come
in anticipation
for people who have seemingly forgotten me
to them time may be an easy commodity
but to me it is of the essence
and my time is valuable—
no longer will i allow it to be squandered on things
that don't make me happy,
and i will make changes in my life that allow
me to reflect the joy deep in my heart
because life is truly magical
when you think about it
and smiles
can cut away through the plastic parasites of this world,
so i want to give mine away.

strange dreams

by Linda M. Crate

with laughter in his lips
she sips
preying upon all my fears
telling me
every heart ache i wished i'd never
had to hear,
strangers lie in my bed where sweet
dreams used to sing;
i don't know where these nightmares
got their confluence over me
but they exude
a confidence
that evades me when the night strangles
out every last whisper of
light from moon beam or distant star—
now all my dreams are strange
whether good or bad,
and nothing is every what it seems
in these dreams
one face morphs into another
enemies become friends and friends enemies
and family turns both into angels and
monsters to attack me
when my back
is turned;
like love lust
this unrequited strangeness between night and
day stings,
and i pause because i don't know how
to color in these strange lines
so i color outside them
instead.

autumn wonder

by Linda M. Crate

i love autumn and all
her colors
splashing life in a
world
too oft devoid of
light and laughter,
her chorus of leaves will
dance with me
in the wings of the
wind;
and she never scaled me
in judgment like summer
of freezes me
in winter's coldest
blankets
of buries me beneath
flowers that make me feel
inadequate—
she is perfect
in all her laughter
a season
of apples, pumpkins,
and explosion
of giggles
psalmed in the
limbs of
trees;
she kissed me
with wonder
and draws me out
into the woods—
sometimes
i find only animals
but there are
times i find pieces of
myself that i forgot
when the world ridiculed
me years ago.

love one another

by Linda M. Crate

Love. It has the power to cover a multitude of offenses and it is only standing united that we can truly be of any use to one another. We're all different, but that doesn't mean we can't love one another. Hatred is self destructive and carves out hearts, destroys families, and burns them in the anger. It is a force that burns and burns but when all have perished beneath it's flames, it hungers ever more. Love, it is the only thing that can save us. The only force that will put that fire out. 

once we were happy

by Linda M. Crate

i remember we had fun once. we used to walk kinzu dam together. you used to hold my hand and i didn't resent it. i remember there was love and laughter. somewhere everything went wrong. resentment built. i hated you. i don't hate you anymore, dad. i'm sad. i don't know what happened. we both had tempers. we both said things we shouldn't have. we're fractured past the point of repair. we try, but the pitiful stabs of a relationship dead hurt me more than saying nothing at all. so i'm quiet. not to hurt you but because i don't know what to say. you never understood me and i don't understand you. all we ever did was judge each other. i'm sorry. 

i can't go back

by Linda M. Crate

ingrid michaelson
plays
on the radio
while i pace the apartment
like a wild animal
i am caged
yearning for freedom
and yet
it is inappropriate for me to
go outside
only in my underwear
braless
i would be arrested for indecent exposure,
but somehow
it's okay for the grossly obese man
with his five hundred pound
hairy pot belly
to sit out in his underwear
on a hot summer's
day;
i don't understand how that's not the same
his boobs are probably
bigger than mine—
life isn't fair, they say, but somehow
that excuse never worked
for me;
i'm sick of all the hypocrisy of
everything
just want to be a child again
when dandelions
danced their visions over me and trees
laughed in the breeze
so sweetly,
and i dreamed without
fear of falling—
where i wasn't caged in all this want
and desire
with conundrums on my tongue
simply ran outside
played in the weeds, spoke to faeries
and waved to mermaids
in their blue green lagoons
oh!
how we all wish to grow older as a child,
but we don't realize how good
we had it
until it's gone.

taking chances

by Linda M. Crate

after the movie

last night

in complete and utter silence

an epiphany dawned

her lit candle

over my mind, 

i was 

reflecting on life and i realized

this isn't where i want to be

i don't know what i need to do or what i need to change

but here isn't where i want nor need to be;

each of us wants immortality

to live after we die,

but it is more important to help others and live before

we die—

that thought rested heavy on my shoulders,

and so i'm going to be braver than i have ever been

make and take chances

i never would usually make because i'm sick

of playing it safe

i need to stretch out of my comfort zone

get these books published

and climb those mountains i always thought i ought,

conquer my fear of heights

sky dive and parasail and take a hot air balloon ride 

to take a chance and talk to that cute guy

my mind has convinced me i haven't a chance in hell with

because in the end 

it is true

you only do live once,

and while this is no excuse to be irresponsible and to forget 

every action has her consequence

it is encouraging me

that i need to be bolder, to break out of my shell

so the yolk of me spills a deeper yellow

that my star dust

shines brighter than the sun.

one way streets

by Linda M. Crate

sometimes i'm wrong,
but you're not
always right
so sick and tired of
being taken granted
for and
overlooked
by people who supposedly
care;
give me an ocean
let me be
an island
grow my trees and happiness
in utter solitude—
where visitors
can come for a while then
go away,
and it'll be okay
because
i won't mind being alone
and we won't owe
each other anything;
so tired of
people
always wanting something
because i'm a giver
i give with all my heart and all
they ever want to do is rip
out every last moon beam of my
silver soul
i'm tired of these one way streets
they're all so very vexing.

temper like a sunset sky

by Linda M. Crate

i need a drink
something stronger than they serve
here
because people are
hell,
and these people are the
worst;
i swear they were all
born in the same barn—
praying
doesn't seem to ebb the
flow of crazies
always here
to bother me,
but it wouldn't be called a job
if you were meant to
have fun—
so i suck it up
because, buttercup, someone
has to,
and i'm strong—
so i go on and persevere
trying so hard to
keep
my temper before it explodes
like a flurry of color
in a sunset sky.

death will come to you

by Linda M. Crate

the music of the night
stars singing to the indigo
of the sky,
and to the moon mother
dangling
her snobbish nose
above the sea;
this speaks to me in whispers
louder than the carnelian of
your sun smile—
the more you pursue me the harder
i disappear into the heart of
a wood
dancing with stars in the belly of
her streams,
moon beams dancing their astral
silver in my hair
as i gallop away from you;
you are the manticore desiring the magic
of my blood,
and i am the unicorn goring everything
that destroys innocence to the
ground;
but i know i need help when it comes
to you—
i lure you into the forest,
and you follow
without consideration only seeking like a blind
ravenous animal;
i bring you to my bretherin,
and all too late
you see your end etched in the horizon of
story telling sequins dancing
in their jeweled thrones of a night's sky.

don't underestimate me

by Linda M. Crate

i don't know who i am
my identity
has been stripped from me
like a jane doe
in a morgue
don't know when i ceased to be
a person,
but evidently i'm only a woman
or what men
perceive
as such judging from the way
they view me like a piece
of meat
when my hips sway as i walk
my skirt flying behind me
like a gypsy anthem;
i am not
your conquest,
the ancient climb or the
archaeological dig
of gyrating hips against the nether-regions—
stop stripping of my name,
i am linda;
daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece,
great niece,
cousin, friend, co-worker,
poet and writer—
there's a passion beating in my chest that would
burn your baser thoughts to ruin
for i am a woman,
but i'm so much more than that
there's talent and emotions
woven in my fabric;
i burn bright as stars
woe to the man
that underestimates me again.

tell me something worth hearing

by Linda M. Crate

i've never been one for small talk
bores the hell out of me
it's such a chore
to think of
something without any facet
of imagination;
it's a gemstone without luster
a night without a star
rivers with no water,
and i just can't stand it anymore—
tell me a story about your
grandfather or sister
your mother or your child,
a lie about how you
saved the universe in your past life
anything at all;
but please don't talk to me of the
weather
it's nothing i can control,
and i hate the negativity of complaints
that's always ushered in,
in relation to the weather—
no, tell me of laughter
of some happily ever after of all
the things you're grateful for
maybe then i'd turn an ear in instead of
nodding politely, privately
hoping for your absence sometime soon.

i'm sorry

by Linda M. Crate

i am the
secret keeper
tell me something you will never
hear it again if it's not meant
to be uttered,
and i've buried so many secrets
deep within myself
sometimes it's hard to tell
which ones are mine
anymore;
betrayed someone's confidence once
as a child, and i hated myself
for it so i vowed to take
an oath of silence—
my voice is but a whisper but it won't
speak anyone's business
anymore
because i am an ocean of distance
won't even divulge pieces
of me
until you dig through the sand,
and when you find a
nugget of me
you'll find that i'm already gone;
too many times i've been abandoned so i thought
i'd save us both the trouble
disappear
before you decided you'd hate me, too—
and, yes, i know it's
cowardice but i've never been brave
i'm sorry.

rainbow

by Linda M. Crate

"Be a rainbow in someone else's cloud." — Maya Angelou

There are so many critics,
be an encourager
the world is already full of scoffers
scorners and indifferent
dark souls
who only seem content when they rip
someone apart thread by
tenuous thread;
who wants to be remembered
as the villain of the story
in the chapters
of anyone's life?
be a rainbow in someone else's cloud,
the reason they can smile
on a dark and difficult day;
you never know
how much you can enrich someone's life
just by being a rose
instead of a thorn—
put down your torches and neglect your
witch hunts for there's not a perfect
person that roams this earth;
just remember
that everyone's fighting a tough battle of their
own, and the last thing they need
is yet another
telling them they're doing it wrong
as they journey along their
way.