Powerful Freaks

We are powerful freaks;
some winged, others gilled…
all a universe of promising chaos.

I started seeing through dark-mooned skies,
my smile sharpened,
I took to weaving my fate.

When the first pet went missing,
friends and strangers whispered,
“She has all those legs now,
all those eyes;
that stomach is too large,
too monstrous
to be filled with just guts.”

While I was still naïve
enough to kiss hope on the mouth,
expecting it would kiss back,
I whispered explanations:
“My opisthosoma cradles my heart.”

But the Stones that made some of us Mythical
didn’t only expose our inner essence,
it also showed us powerful (perhaps too powerful)
in the eyes of men too scared
to see that our new shells housed the same old Selves.

they called me nasty bug,
recoiled (then trembled) when I was near;
some tried to crush me like an insect.
So many mistakes were made.

I considered smirking sharply into their flesh,
filling their veins with venomous rage,
liquefying self-inflicted blindness into convenient foods…
But I was a vegetarian,
in those nearly forgotten days.

a wee note…
– I was rereading my “Belle du Freak” poem, in order to write the short piece I was supposed to post today (but didn’t, since I just published “Large, Powerful, Wild”, and two consecutive short stories felt like a bit much). Revisiting the poem left me wondering about the spider woman’s background, thinking, why did she have to hide in a terrible circus? “Powerful Freaks” seems to be part of the answer.
Opisthosoma is the posterior part of arachnids’ bodies, often called abdomen, but different from it, since it also contains the respiratory organs and the heart.

written for May Monster Madness ← follow the link to visit other deliciously mad participants; and do visit the madness instigators: Little Gothic Horrors, Annie Walls, and Something Wicked this Way Comes…

linked to Poets United, Poetry Pantry 254

Spider Web Desktop Background
Spider Web Desktop Background


79 thoughts on “Powerful Freaks

  1. It is perhaps our greatest human failing. Killing or destroying that which or those whom are different than us. And in doing so we snuffed out the magic

  2. Awesome as only you can do it. Luv the humanness of your monsters though. They seem able to choose just like us

    Have a nice Sunday

    Much love…

  3. Why have I not heard about May Monster Madness? I have truly missed out and shall have to go back and see……….your poem made me think of Baba Yaga, in such a good way! “she has all those eyes….” My fave bit: “I started seeing through dark-mooned skies, my smile sharpened, I took to weaving my fate.” That is the moment when life begins to get very very good.

  4. To be suspected of such things.. if we could just be vegetarians everyone and save the trouble of ostracizing those that are different.

  5. This is brilliant with a little bite: “While I was still naïve
    enough to kiss hope in the mouth,
    expecting it would kiss back”–I love it, absolutely 🙂

  6. Deliciously dark and sumptuous as always Magaly, but my absolute favourite line? “While I was still naïve enough to kiss hope in the mouth, expecting it would kiss back” – love it.

  7. Mankind doesn’t have a good record of cohabiting with their fellow travelers in this world. It is good you have spoken up for the arachnids regardless of your shortage of limbs.

  8. So easy to fear and hate what we don’t understand–otoh, the missing pets are a bit chilling. There is horror here on several levels, in the twist of identity, of self, and the cruelty of the Other. Many great lines in this–wonderful to see you writing poetry again.

  9. so many different emotions and layers at play…i specially like the dark end with a twist & also “While I was still naïve / enough to kiss hope in the mouth, / expecting it would kiss back,”….

  10. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the first time we met anyone new it was like the blind auditions on the Voice. You would not see the person, only hear the song of their heart. Alas, life is not like that. She has a good, hopeful heart, even yet. Your storytelling, the way you use the words makes me see you in a past life enthralling those sitting about a fire during a long, cold night. Your art runs through your blood, your bones!

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