‘Impaling goddess’ and other poems by Linda M Crate

By Linda M Crate


impaling goddess
the creek stones
glittering like jewels
will be my crown
i am not in need of a hero
because i save myself
so if you’re looking for a damsel in distress,
i’m sorry you just found a goddess in
a dress;
my magic, my light, my dreams
will slaughter any nightmares that walk
into my realm—
my eyes aren’t the coffee you’ll pour
into your cup
because i am not the type
of person that will allow herself to be consumed
i am well aware of my worth and my power—
my brown eyes are the roots of life,
the nest of birds, the bodies and arms of trees,
live giving soil of plants, it is an echo
that will last eternities after you are gone;
so don’t go thinking
you’ll ever steal away my voice or my choices
because all my life men like you have attempted to
hide me behind the lie of a gilded cage
but a lie no matter how ornamented is still a lie—
i will impale you with the roots of my truth
because i’ve already warned you once not to provoke
the fires of my wrath.

I will haunt you until your death
no one pays attention to the city lights, i had the right of way on a crosswalk; and as i was walking some woman in a black four door car almost hit me as she was distracted by her cell phone so i shouted at her—she looked at me like a deer in the headlights as if i were in the wrong for her lack of consideration of the rules of the road, and i cannot help but thinking how many victims are accused for the acts of those who have violated them; it’s disgusting that everyone has an excuse and scapegoat—few ever accept the blame rightfully theirs, because no one wants to admit that they’re not perfect; even though we’re all flawed beings—i just grow tired of the carelessness of others that could hurt and kill other people, ignorance is no bliss if you’re caught in the crossfire; i only want to be able to live my life to do more than simply exist—i cannot build my life if i have no life to live, and if i die because of someone like that careless driver; i will haunt you until your death.

Advice she never asked for
all the painted faces, all the pretty girls; all those smiles—i cannot help but wonder which ones are real, we are taught to smile from a young age; but as i grew older the smiles slipped right from my face—because sometimes life is just hard, and sometimes simply facing the day an act of bravery; yet people will judge you whether you’re doing good or you’re doing bad—so many men tell me to “smile” so i purposefully reserve a scowl just for them, i don’t know why they feel entitled to something that doesn’t prove whether or not i’m happy; i don’t know why it’s so necessary as i’m not here for your entertainment—i can be completely content without a smile, and miserable wearing one; so tell me would you rather a truth or a lie? i suppose you’d say the lie because it’s prettier, but the illusion fades; i would rather truth no matter how bitter the roots because i can climb through hell to reach heaven—i’ve done it so many times, so maybe sometimes, look into the eyes of all those painted faces and all those prettier smiles; because that’s where the pain hides—sometimes it’s subtle, but not always, and if you see a sadness; know that for too long she’s been strong, and maybe offer a sympathetic shoulder instead of advice she never asked for.

It was you not me
i’m letting go
of wounds
so please forgive me
if your name is
lost from me,
but chances are
if it is;
then you deserved it—
i forgive too much,
and spare myself too little;
i cannot be held
for the negativity and toxicity
you danced into my
so now i am reclaiming my voice
and my divinity
so i can remember the softer
tongues of magic—
i know that sometimes people
just fade from one another’s lives,
and i know it can hurt;
but sometimes i held onto wounds
simply to please others
i don’t have the strength to carry
mountains that aren’t mine
i know you may not understand,
but it was you not me.

Get out of my wounds
i feel defiant
don’t care what you think,
want, or need;
so sick of your criticisms
when all you can do is drip
in all those complaints
you hate leveled against you—
i know you have a title,
but that doesn’t make you
any better than me;
just because you have authority
doesn’t mean you get respect
that’s earned and you’ve done nothing
to earn mine—
like my father you like to see the
worst in me,
but you are wrong;
that’s not the whole picture
but i don’t you’re listening because now
you’re carving out another heart
for your box—
no matter how many times you look
in the mirror you’ll never be
the fairest one
so take a hint from the raven
and nevermore steep yourself in your arrogance
fly away from me like a songbird
because these talons of mine will spill your
ego should you step too close
to my wounds.

A prayer to the universe
every day seems some
new fresh hell,
but i refuse to let my dreams
or hopes waver;
i cannot let my candle grow dim
too many lights have
been snuffed out—
i know there has to be a way
out of this present darkness,
and i cannot believe this will be
how it ends;
i refuse to be ended before i’ve begun
so many are insisting that we’re
i refuse to see asteroids in collision,
and the smoke of apocalypses;
i refuse to accept that grim reality
there’s gotta be something more than
all of this chaos—
i am going to keep throwing light and dreams
out into the universe, praying that she hears me;
and heals us all of this ignorance
they claim is some sort of bliss.

Categories: Poetry

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