Couldn’t Say it Better

Enjoy some new poetry, on us!

bitter coffee 
break my bones
as your bread feed the
marrow to the fishes,
kiss oblivion with the elbows
of the moon and yawn void
into the lips of despair 
until nothing remains
but my aching soul swallowing
the flames of the sun, burning away
every edge of bitterness dancing
vertigo on my tongue —
liar, liar 
galaxy on fire
your promise of love was nothing
but a dying rose, blowing her wings against
the wind like an origami bird;
once our passion startled leaves off trees,
but now we’re erupting into the angry
magma of disgruntled volcanoes
unknowing and caring until my heart chips into
your coffee cup and you drink the coffee
of my bitterness forever and a day. 
– linda m. crate 


living a farce 

indiscretions followed her  

wherever she lingered, to

her they sounded as cymbals

clanging wherever she walked — 

yet no one else seemed to

hear them; but she knew that

they were there, her name was

liar – adulteress – girl of envy – thief 

yet all they saw was a pretty young

girl full of promise, she gave them

one smile and they all folded

beneath the weight of her perceived

purity; sometimes she wanted the

facade to crack so she could stop pretending,

sometimes she reveled in her cleverness —

but she was always looking over her

shoulders as if her sins would accuse her

and bring her into some court of law.

– linda m. crate 


she stole his secrets and fed them

to the aurora dawn whose light

penetrated him with brutality, it 

knew the things it ought not have —

it was then that he knew that he

could no longer trust her, he buried

their friendship beneath the sea, 

watched as the waves battered her

port, and she screamed out his name —

accusing him of cruel villainy yet

even the wind was deaf to her,

she faded to a mere whisper tethered

to the sand, the crabs scuttled along

her eyelids and jellyfish caressed her lips.  

– linda m. crate 

yearning for freedom 

he stole away with her into the wind,

took her far from the shores of her 

loved ones; he’d take from her every

semblance of normalcy, he threw her

dreams into the sea to be battered by

the rocks — she never knew duplicity

until she saw the wolf shining in his

kind eyes suddenly unkind, he took

what he wanted and she let him — 

she knew it was wrong and he knew

it, too, but it didn’t stop the cyclical

nature from occurring over and over

again until one day she bashed his

head with a skillet and didn’t stop 

until she knew he wouldn’t follow, 

she was his wife and she knew that

he would always pursue her, but she’d

break free of him any way she could. 

– linda m. crate   

the way it must be 

winter stole the bright skirts of autumn,

and perverted them into white streams —

he killed her lilies and overtook her land,

he forced his hand upon her; cooling all

that she had brought to life, he took away

her laughter and bright collage of hues —

he instead replaced those with both

death and reflection; giving the earth a

promise to begin anew before we were

even ready for his coming, his insistence

that we forget the fall almost criminal —

he insisted that this was the way it must be.

– linda m. crate

Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh, but she was raised in the rural town of Conneautville. She attended and graduated from Edinboro University of Pennsylvania with a degree in English-Literature in 2009. Her poetry, articles, reviews, and short stories have appeared in several journals online and in print.


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