A Black Widow & Other Poems by Linda M. Crate

Adorably Horror Series – Linda M. Crate

a black widow
i’m the spider,
you’re the fly;
what is normal to me
is chaos to you

so let me enjoy
your screaming—

they say i have a pretty face,
but i am quite terrifying;
no one ever sees me coming

until they’re dead—

charming and funny,
they always underestimate me;

always write me off as cute—

i am a black widow
one bite is all i need,
and then you’re gone
like the fallen leaves of autumn
thrust into a black bag and never
seen again.
-linda m. crate


feisty little damphyr
not quite
human nor vampire,
but a shade between
i am the feisty
little damphyr;

everyone thinks i’m funny even
when i’m being mean—

they don’t quite understand the
depths of my rage, my pain,
or my wrath;

they don’t understand that the hand that
feeds them will turn at any sign of disrespect—

these blood lusting fangs will extract every
last ruby that kept them alive,
i’m not someone you want to meet alone in the
forest at night;

but they dismiss me as pretty and beautiful
sometimes even cute

i use it to my advantage.
-linda m. crate


it’s nothing personal
tall enough not to be short
yet not tall enough to be tall
i am someone they easily
overlook,
quiet and contrite
people often concede that i am
harmless;
and i let them think that—
i revel in the fear
of my prey,
and i like to see their torment
when they realize
that i’m a monster no one
warned them about;
because no one suspects
women or their magic to be
powerful until they’re
too powerful to be stopped—
when they beg me not to bite,
i simply explain that everyone needs
to eat;
it’s nothing personal
even when it is.
-linda m. crate

a lust never satisfied
i am regal
always

they never suspect
someone so refined
and so charming
to be a monster,

and that’s the most thrilling aspect
of it all;
to never be seen until you’re ready to be heard—

fangs sharper than the edges
of the angriest moon,
and every bit as unforgiving;

i love to fall down from the trees
paralyzing them with fear as they turn around

they never anticipate the red eyes
or the aggression or this hunger
which drives me forward
always—

it’s a lust that never seems satisfied,
always demands more.
-linda m. crate


this blood lust screaming
once they put me in a coffin
threw me underground,
but i broke free from the wood
and nails;

my sharp edges were sharpened
by this rage of being left for dead
whilst still alive—

everyone knows a coffin is but a
bed for the undead,

and it was a bit infuriating to think
i would be shoved beneath the ground
for a year and simply left there
when i never asked to sleep;

but we cannot always get what we want
or so they say—

i came back from the funeral they
designated for me with a vengeance,
and they will be the first victims of this
blood lust screaming in my fangs.
-linda m. crate


Poet:

Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of six poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is: More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). She’s also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). She has published three  full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), and Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020).

At the Bay & Other Poems by Linda M. Crate

It’s the Little Things

Linda M. Crate takes us through an array of little things to soak in as we cap off the work week! Her words may even inspire you to seek some waterfront nature to enjoy!


at the bay
the bay brings me joy
perhaps not as much as
the ocean,
but a joy of it’s own
with the observation tower
and colorful murals on the pavement;
taking boat rides on
both scallywags and the victorian princess
or even just observing the beauty of
the sky flecked against the
water;
and even watching the loud and noisy gulls
little specks of white against
a blue sky and bay bringing a little
contrast of color
blooming like my favorite flowers
against the sky.
-linda m. crate


rare summer breeze
little flowers
of so many colors
blooming

it’s a soft joy
that embraces me

each petal telling
a story of a seed
growing up out of the
darkness to kiss
the sky,

and every flower
makes me happy;

but especially my favorites:
lilies, sunflowers, and hibiscus
dancing tenderly in the rare
summer breeze.
-linda m. crate


flying between the waves of the sea
when i am standing on the ocean
my feet buried in the sand,
watching the waves
twist and turn and sing with rimes
of the ancient mariner;
i feel peace
as the water carries out every
burden that wasn’t mine to carry
instead replacing it with shells
or crabs scuttling across
the sand—
and to me there’s nothing prettier
than when the ocean meets the sky,
kissing as if they’re lovers;
as if a mermaid and a faerie could
be lovers
flying between the waves of the
sea sharing only love and a song
two pretty lyrics
not easily forgotten.
-linda m. crate


enjoy the day
there is joy
in the little things:
flowers blooming,
autumn trees,
oceans lilting,
crows dancing in the sky,
puffy white clouds
drifting slowly by,
creek songs,
meeting up with friends,
rainbows after the rain,
pockets of buildings
covered in ivy,
music,
spending time alone,
books and friendships forged
on the love of such books,
anime and reading,
writing and dreaming,
finding one’s voice and passion;
sunny days and moonlit nights—
not to mention rainy day
lulls, summer breezes,
the beauty of winters tears glittering
in starlight and sunlight both;
there is joy in everything you just have
to dust away the worries and embrace
moments as they come—
no one knows what tomorrow may bring
so enjoy today.
-linda m. crate


even in the darkness
i miss sewing
the concentration
required
was worth it in the end

pieces of fabric
became the first outfit
my sister wore in the hospital,

a baby quilt and a little
fabric bear;

they said i would press the pedal
of the machine the way my
mother hit the gas pedal—

yet in the end
i still managed to create
beautiful things,

and i find there is beauty in
creating things still:
necklaces, poems, books;
and anything else i feel inspired
to make—

life can be bitter sweet so to me
i try to focus on the sweet
because even in the darkness
light can be found.
-linda m. crate


Poet:

Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of six poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is: More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). She’s also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). Recently she has published two full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020) and The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020).

One-Liners Abound! – Linda M. Crate


Author:

Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of six poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is: More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). She’s also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). Recently she has published two full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020) and The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020).

Little White Butterfly & Other Poetry by Linda M. Crate

July Online Open Mic

Linda M. Crate is here to set us up our day to focus on the simple magic of butterflies! Come read through each one to make your day a bit brighter.


little white butterfly
you always find me
when peace seems so
far away,
i think to remind me
that sometimes we must make our own
fairy tales;
life can be heavy as an anchor
dragging across the ocean floor
sometimes we need to break free of the
water in our lungs—
because water can free and heal
yet it can also hold, destroy, and wound;
i have never feared the depths
only the shallows
perhaps this is why everything
is always heavier than it needs to be in
my wonderland—
haven’t seen the mad hatter or march hare
for a while,
i am goth alice painted blue
a gravity of things that pulls me down
i could not escape
until you set me free.
-linda m. crate


even mermaids drown
sometimes the world is heavy,
but butterflies remind me
there are still beautiful things in this world;

songs of flowers
perfume me in their fragrant lyric—

flit and flutter
let the weight of the world pass you by
as white clouds and blue skies are
sculpted into art by the frame of your wings,

you remind me not to spend all
my time in the depths;

but to come back to the surface
to get air
because even mermaids
drown—

you remind me to take time to dance
with the trees and the flowers,
and watch the honey making bees as they
hum and sing and buzz
the weight of the world never dragging down
upon their wings.
-linda m. crate


because butterflies
sometimes i feel uneasy
in my bones

have spent my life in translation

few understand my language
or the mythology of my bones,
i have screamed at the top of my lungs
until they were raw and burning
like the angriest suns;

but butterflies come and drag me out of
my dark reveries and ask me to play—

how can i refuse these sweet souls?

so i dance in the rain,
laugh with the flowers,
and fall in love with rainbows;

when the world becomes too difficult
i remember the sun will shine again

because butterflies.
-linda m. crate


i come undone
once a butterfly
insisted on joining me
on my journey
as i took a walk on a
lonely country road,
and so i let the tiger swallowtail
come along with me;
such a friendly guy or gal
allowing me to take photos and dancing around
my ankles as if to remind me of my magic
because the day was dragging me down—
as if the universe knows
when i need angels
i always see butterflies when the world is
heaviest on my shoulders,
and i remember
that i am not atlas;
i can put down the mountains and the valleys—
because it is not the weight that kills you
just the way you carry it,
and sometimes i don’t even realize i am carrying
things that are not mine;
but the butterflies come and remind me the world
is full of beauty and magic and softness and i come undone
like a flower in bloom.
-linda m. crate


brave little butterflies
little white butterflies
dancing in the flowers

i see them
every summer

even when the other butterflies
cannot come,
they are always there

offering me solace on heavy days;

as they pass the clovers
flying through trees and grass and rain
i am reminded despite my pain

that i have the strength to continue on—

& so i go and go
like these brave little butterflies
existing in a world where so many things
could kill them

they refuse to hide, they know they are delicate.
-linda m. crate


Author:

Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of six poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is: More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). She’s also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). Recently she has published two full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020) and The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020).

One-Liners Abound! – Linda M. Crate


Artist:

Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of six poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is: More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). She’s also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). Recently she has published two full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020) and The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020).

Linda M. Crate – Online Open Mic

your black magic


you get crowned a good man
again and again by people i love,
but they don’t know you
like i do;
how you refused to take no
for an answer and tried to force
yourself upon me—
how when you broke up with
me i felt joy not pain,
as the tears fell from my cheeks;
they don’t know how you found me
years later at college
and smirked at me with an evil grin,
“i bet you don’t remember me”
knowing full well i would—
they don’t know the trauma you put
me through or all the things i had to work through
simply so i could function as a human being,
yet somehow i’m the villain when i scoff
that you’re a good man;
somehow i’m the witch that they must burn—
i guess your black magic is a good disguise
because they believe you’re a miracle
not a curse.
-linda m. crate


predators will be predators


i haven’t seen you in years,
and i hope i never
have to;

i don’t know what i’d do if i were
forced to stand in the same room
as you—

but any time someone tells me
i have a pretty smile it falls off my face
because i think of how you said it

just before you tried to force me to
“do it” with you,
and i know there are some that would

insist that kids would be kids;
but what about that rainy night at college
when you taunted me—

it’s not kids will be kids,
but predators will be predators;
sometimes they take the shape of children

just a hair older than you—
but i was afraid no one would believe me
if i told, and judging by the reactions

that i receive when i say you’re not a good man
i was right to believe that no one would
believe you were anything less than innocent.
-linda m. crate


i do remember you


i remember
what i was wearing that night,
and the rain lashing the window;
the evil look in your dark eyes—

i remember how i said no,
but it didn’t matter
you weren’t listening to what
i had to say;
as if i were speaking another language
entirely but i kept pleading

only for you to insist
that we were
going to “do it”—

i remember that adrenaline rush
wish saved me from your will,

and tumbling down the stairs to escape you;
your sister thought i heard my mother’s car
but quite honestly i was just running from you
regardless of whether my mother was there or not—

i remember when i got into my mother’s car
that i just wanted her to mash the gas
like a get-away vehicle;

so, unfortunately, yes, i do remember you.
-linda m. crate


people betray me


told my
childhood best friend
what you did,

and years later she still
friended you on facebook;

people always tell me
that you’re a good man and i hate
hearing that when i know
the truth—

i never am brave enough to speak up,
but the one time i made a derisive snort
i was scolded for it;

guess you have the whole world fooled
but not me—

i recognize you for the monster you are,
but people betray me when they insist you’re
a different person than what i know and remember
from all the scenes that still play in my head
all these years later.
-linda m. crate


i won’t decay for you


you are the damned spot
i cannot wash
from my skin,
but i won’t be your victim;
i will have
victory—
my life is my own,
and i refuse to live my life in fear
because of you;
i’m taking my journey back—
the trauma sometimes still makes me
stammer
like the little girl i once was,
but i refuse to let it destroy me;
i am the phoenix
whose immortal flame will always rise
from the ashes
to defeat the nightmares like you—
i refuse to be a haunted house brought down
by inner decay,
i am going to be the wreckage cleared out
by divers;
i am going to reconstruct myself from the
bruises and you will recognize me for my light
when she puts your nightmares to rest.
-linda m. crate


Artist:

Linda M. Crate

Follow This Artist:

https://www.instagram.com/authorlindamcrate/

https://www.facebook.com/Linda-M-Crate-129813357119547

Linda M. Crate – Love Starts With You

the only home i’ll know


i learned to love myself,
but it wasn’t easy;
first i had to let go of
everything they told me i was
and learn to define myself—

i had a beauty and a power
all my own, always;
but i had to reclaim my voice and my magic

once more before i could call
myself mine—

jealous and petty mean spirited people
have mocked me all my life,
they told me i was stupid or ugly and fat;
and i believed them—

i didn’t realize there was value in being me
until a guidance counselor insisted if i were
more normal i would fit in,
and i decided then and there that i would never
strive to fit in when i was born to stand out;
that i would be proud of myself and my weird

because the only person i can ever be is me,
and since i am the only one that will always
be there for me; i need to accept myself for
my flaws and my scars and i have—

i love myself because i am the only home i’ll ever know.


remind the heart to dream


self-care isn’t always
retail therapy
or bubble baths or
isolating from the world

sometimes self-care
is letting the tears flower
like blossoms in the spring
until your soul is purged
of the heaviness it is feeling,

and sometimes it is talking to
friends and releasing all the pent up
steam you’ve been holding onto;

even a nap or a simple shower
can be an act of self-care in a world
that sometimes feels full of nightmares
sometimes its necessary to remind
the heart to dream.


learned to say no


i had to teach myself no
because it felt like a swear word
once,
and i always hated to let people down;
but i learned the hard way
you cannot please everyone and trying
only displeases everyone especially yourself—
so i stopped trying to please people,
and started doing what i could
only if i felt like helping or being or doing
was i there;
and some people got angry and some people
walked away from me
but i figure that’s the price of being authentic
to yourself
not everyone is going to understand or be there
on every leg of your journey
so you have to clap and be proud of yourself—
you cannot pour from an empty cup
so if you feel depleted,
it is okay to say no;
and if you are tired it is all right to let someone down
because life is too short to make our souls miserable—
you have to take care of yourself because
no one else will.


don’t hate myself anymore


i used to hate myself,
and wonder what she had
that i didn’t;
what made you love her and not me—

in the end, it doesn’t matter;
because i am beautiful and i have worth
all my own even if you will never recognize it

i am magical, powerful, and beautiful;
with meanings and roots deeper than the ocean—

i thought i needed you once-upon-a-time
but it turns out i only wanted you,
and i am doing better for myself now that you are gone;

sometimes the heart wants the exact opposite
of what it needs—

i am not afraid of being alone, i am not afraid of the darkness;
because i know i am strong enough to defend myself and rise
from the ashes of any death given me thanks to you.


picked myself back up and learned to love me


i love myself now
like i didn’t
then

you wouldn’t recogize me now,

but i’ve grown from that spot
where you left me to die;

there was a woman
behind the glass that grabbed my hand
she led me to a future where
you didn’t stand and showed me of sunsets
i had yet to witness and moonbeams
that yet had to sing against my skin—

so i fell in love with flowers,
the wild, and the seas all over again;
i fell in love with wise old trees
and redcapped mushrooms and orange fallen leaves

i recognized there is worth to a crow song,
and found love even for myself;

to you i may not have been worth it but i am wild
not everyone can hold a flame but the person
who can appreciate my mountains and my oceans,
my fires and my trees, my fangs and my wings;
i welcome them into my tribe

even if sometimes my only hand to grasp is my own.


Check Out This Artist:

Linda M. Crate

https://www.instagram.com/authorlindamcrate/

https://www.facebook.com/Linda-M-Crate-129813357119547