Three Poems by Linda M. Crate
cousin of the crow
the crows
were going
crazy
one night
i saw them flying
from each
angle
towards the ravine,
and i wondered what was
going on;
but it seems that they love
that creek
as much as i do--
i wonder if she sings to them
of magic and myth
as she does
me,
and i wonder if sometimes
they don't sense i
am a kindred spirit
so they follow me;
they never hurt me and i never hurt them
i am curious and they seem curious,
too--
each of us has songs to sing
misunderstood yet beautiful,
and that is why i love crows more
than most people i come across.
the crows
were going
crazy
one night
i saw them flying
from each
angle
towards the ravine,
and i wondered what was
going on;
but it seems that they love
that creek
as much as i do--
i wonder if she sings to them
of magic and myth
as she does
me,
and i wonder if sometimes
they don't sense i
am a kindred spirit
so they follow me;
they never hurt me and i never hurt them
i am curious and they seem curious,
too--
each of us has songs to sing
misunderstood yet beautiful,
and that is why i love crows more
than most people i come across.
acute pain
what was supposed to be an in and out procedure ended up keeping me in the hospital overnight, and i didn't like it; bleach and death seemed to echo their scents in a cheerful way which seemed blasphemous to every living thing—my gallbladder was worse than they knew, inflamed and infected and full of stones; wrapping tentacle arms around other organs in an attempt to strangle the life from me—but i was stronger, i was the one that prevailed, the gallbladder lost the battle; i remember before the hospital my annoyance for the campus doctor who asked me thrice if i were pregnant—wanted to tell him that it would be impossible for a virgin, and the pain was so great that the benadryl they gave only dulled the pain for five minutes, my body was screaming at me, and i wanted answers not questions; i was in my pajamas but in too much agony to care just wanted whatever it was to stop—arrived at the hospital at ten a.m. and didn't leave until three, and the pain made me miserable to the nurse who was trying her best to figure out what was wrong with me; it wasn't until they gave me the pain killers that i could be my normal self again—i was kind again, happy, a bit drowsy but not inconsiderate; all i knew was that the pain was so acute that it made me wonder if i could feel anything whether it be joy, sorrow, or pain without it being intense.
what was supposed to be an in and out procedure ended up keeping me in the hospital overnight, and i didn't like it; bleach and death seemed to echo their scents in a cheerful way which seemed blasphemous to every living thing—my gallbladder was worse than they knew, inflamed and infected and full of stones; wrapping tentacle arms around other organs in an attempt to strangle the life from me—but i was stronger, i was the one that prevailed, the gallbladder lost the battle; i remember before the hospital my annoyance for the campus doctor who asked me thrice if i were pregnant—wanted to tell him that it would be impossible for a virgin, and the pain was so great that the benadryl they gave only dulled the pain for five minutes, my body was screaming at me, and i wanted answers not questions; i was in my pajamas but in too much agony to care just wanted whatever it was to stop—arrived at the hospital at ten a.m. and didn't leave until three, and the pain made me miserable to the nurse who was trying her best to figure out what was wrong with me; it wasn't until they gave me the pain killers that i could be my normal self again—i was kind again, happy, a bit drowsy but not inconsiderate; all i knew was that the pain was so acute that it made me wonder if i could feel anything whether it be joy, sorrow, or pain without it being intense.
the last enemy
heart full of void
only ice and snow
grew in you
i am summer's daughter
full of oceans and heat
intensity and softness
flowers and thorns
perhaps that's why you shied away
you knew that you could never
tame me,
but you did try to put me
in gilded cages;
yet i could never live there
a pretty lie is a lie none-the-less
something i'd never endure--
always i've been
dreaming
you tried to steal away my light,
and trap me in your nightmare;
but you never ascertained any power
over me
and you never will
for you are death and darkness
i am light and life
always i will find a way to undermine you--
the last enemy that shall be destroyed
is you.
heart full of void
only ice and snow
grew in you
i am summer's daughter
full of oceans and heat
intensity and softness
flowers and thorns
perhaps that's why you shied away
you knew that you could never
tame me,
but you did try to put me
in gilded cages;
yet i could never live there
a pretty lie is a lie none-the-less
something i'd never endure--
always i've been
dreaming
you tried to steal away my light,
and trap me in your nightmare;
but you never ascertained any power
over me
and you never will
for you are death and darkness
i am light and life
always i will find a way to undermine you--
the last enemy that shall be destroyed
is you.
Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has five published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017), and splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), and one micro-chapbook Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018).