Page name: Coal black wings [Logged in view] [RSS]
2011-08-09 22:57:34
Last author: Linderel
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Poetry by [Linderel].

Splashes from a young woman's poetic soul. Melancholy tales of beauty, cruelty, love, and nature spoken in verse. Blame the muse, leave comments, and see the notes at the bottom.

CBW: Archive 2003-2005
CBW: Archive 2006-2007
CBW: Archive 2008-2009


Lilting Lavender

lovelorn lady

letters lie

lonely, longing
lady Luck

Laugh lowly
lunatic lover

lightning-like lust
leaves legs lazy

Lean lightly
little lady

list lies loudly


Hush, child
listen to the winds
and the stories they tell
Hush, sit still
so you'll hear the whispers
of olden spirits
Silently now
look up at the stars
to make just one wish


Fall down
under the calm black surface
these depths
tell stories we
never wanted to hear
screaming out loud to
cover the words
drowning under waves of
unadulterated guilt
gasping for breath
we dissolve


quietly, tendrils of sleep
leaving fragments

can almost taste, almost
hear but never touch

even reaching
farther than arms
can go
  ...made of clay
  tied down, bound

to the ground

melody becomes whisper, then silence
flit far away
into realm of dreams

I open blurred eyes
and cannot follow.

- 03.01.2010

An Ode to Cats

The dark tail swishes,
once, twice, and stills
as the beast stalks her prey
(quite unknowing
humming gently under their breath)
and she crouches, low
silent, careful
velvet and steel on white-stained grass
Creep just
 a little
   closer and


The prey is hers—
a satisfied purr
body cleverly entwined
around the captive's legs
That twinkle is not evil, no
but your heart has been stolen
and is being softly held
between small, playful paws.

- 05.01.2010

Blues for the Fallen

The house of my heart
has its windows barred

Once, long ago,
fairytale princes came
to knock upon a door
painted daintily in a pattern
of red and blue pansies
and sat on their valiant white steeds
would profess a love undying,
unwavering and eternal
and there would lilt through the air
a most beautiful melody
but the door never opened

What maiden live there?
Perhaps a long lost princess,
now captured or simply mistrusting
of sweet promises, whispered vows—
perhaps a witch
wicked, bitter, heartbroken
never to show her face to the world

Not one of them stayed
those handsome young men
one by one starved, left, or was lost
to the darkness of the woods
but the song still echoes around the trees,
and becoming weaker
while a shadow in the doorway moves inside

The windows are barred
in the house of my heart.

- 14.02.2010


Velvet beneath
where water blurs concrete
from feet up
head-to-toe in sky's embrace

even that fragrance
fills your being
Clap, laugh
dance with these drops

No cold
only joy, bare skin on asphalt

the music of the storm

- 15.07.2010

Assembly Line

Please deposit your clothes on
the assembly line
           h  e  r  e

prepare for

take care
to pick up your watch at the other end

check your smile in the mirror provided




- 20.08.2010


woodsmoke curls between us
obscuring vision but I still know
you are not perfect
and I was never beautiful

yet what is here
lighted by the glowing embers
passes slowly into night
and twines, warm, around my heart

- 03.09.2010

loving the night

the clock on the nightstand
is ticking the stars away
glimmering between the curtains
on your muted skin
the moon smiles and knows
every breath caught in my throat


touch by touch
caressed over gentle curves
each minute is spent
letting my fingers meet
every contour of you

- 15.09.2010


How easy it seemed
to find those tiny grains of happiness
in every day of every year
how easy to forget that

inside, all the world is burning
and the meticulous craft of some devil
will eventually tip us off balance

send us

running blind
into the arms and mouths of every imaginable hell
where the mirage of some grace
awaits, hungry

and the distorted memory
of every smile and tear and game of tag
plays in our heads over

and over

and over


until nothing is the same
even though we kept faith
prayed and begged and pleaded
and so

this is where we surrender.

- 28.10.2010

The Timid Fancy

Here is the ideal:

I will surrender my heart
and love you as ever only imagined
in dreams of starlit ballads;

in your hands confide
all my aching wounds,
old love-battle scars; and

lay at your feet the keys
to hidden corners of my self.

All of this, through the prism of emotion,
is beautiful to you—not beyond compare
for I was never so foolish—but
more than enough to make you stay.

The reality
is never made of silk or velvet. It is not soft
like dawn or a misted rain, but sharp,
edged as winter's wind.

Here, then, is the hope:

My jagged edges will
line up with yours—click into place
like pieces of a puzzle—
and if not, the hope is still this:

We will not become the shards of our selves
and injure each other
while pulling the pieces apart.

- 23.11.2010

An Ode to February

Winter has breathed upon me its silence;
frost-garbed trees shared their sleepy sighs
of yearning for a warmer breeze.
Swathed in wool, lost in cloudless azure,
I watch as crystals spark and glint
in the pale morning sun; marvel
at banks of finest powder snow
yet to be disturbed.
Crisp, biting, the air stings my cheek
and steals away my breath
until only gasps are left.
February has no mercy for the wearied soul
yet still offers a fleeting glimpse
of unrivalled beauty
in a myriad frozen flowers.

- 17.02.2011

A Tragic Little Tale

You have vanished.
Is this bitterness, beating
poison into grief-frozen veins, mine?
There is nothing graceful about this
and I ache to think
a year should be all I am given of you.

She exists no more, you say—
yet you still glimmer somewhere underneath
where I am no longer permitted.
Perhaps it is a crime I've committed,
this issue with loving you too much.
It cannot be helped.

Foolish as I am,
I sit in the lap of uncertainty
and wait for the ground to thaw.

- 07.04.2011


All the whispers say,
    “This is a blessed child.
     She will show us the way,
     redeem us of our wrongs
     and light the dark paths
     to lead us home.”
Sharp eyes and sharper smile
greet each awed pilgrim,
searching, probing for the answers
they want her to give them.
When the oracle speaks,
she releases their souls
from the cold emptiness of the world;
gates of heavens
are thrown open wide.
Every fool sings in rapture
even as he is swallowed whole.

All the poets write,
    “There is no greater glory
     than to be gazed upon by those eyes;
     no honour to compare
     to being touched by her hand.
     She holds the keys to Paradise.”
The oracle smiles,
wraps her delicate fingers
around their hearts
and twists.

- 23.05.2011


Raindrops knock at the window
and I feel hollow in the silence—
I am the only one breathing this still air
in a room that is not mine
but has become yet another home
for me to return to.

The distance is a faint ache on my skin
and the clock mocks me,
ticking away secondsminuteshoursdays
too fast even as it is too slow.
has brought me to my knees before, you know.

Yet I cannot regret giving my heart the leave
to love you.

- 23.05.2011

Summer Night Haiku

Sun peeks through veiled sky;
flowers soon to fall asleep.
Scent of rain lingers.

- 12.06.2011

The Gift of Wings

There are feathers in
your hand when you wake
and from somewhere afar you
can hear the song of beautiful
little birds, beckoning.
You want to join them.
A fluttering on the windowsill, now—
capture it in trembling
fingers and whisper
old memories into ears
that will transform your clumsy
human speech; new melodies
will be born out of your sorrow
and perhaps tomorrow
you will feel lighter.
For today, for now, you can hold the bird gently
fling it onto the sky
and smile.

- 10.08.2011

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Everything on this page is © Saara Aitakangas, a.k.a. [Linderel]. Any unauthorised use of my poetry, or parts of it, will be reported to the Guards.

- The wonderful banner and divider were made by [Chimes]. Go praise her wicked photomanip skills.
- For the inspiration behind some of these pieces, see A Poetical Gauntlet.
- Those with underlined titles have been featured on the Main Street as Daily Poems or contest winners. Those with titles in italics have been featured in issues of The Town Herald via Poetry Corner.
- [pixish] made a beautiful drawing for the wiki: <URL:stuff/coalblackwingsforLami.jpg>
- I'm an active member on Writersco.

Linderel's Arts

Username (or number or email):


2007-01-20 [Aikon I]: a scared one.... what else?

2007-01-20 [Linderel]: Bah.

2007-01-20 [Aikon I]: sorry

2007-01-29 [Aikon I]: YAY!

2007-04-03 [Aikon I]: why hide from the moon?

2007-04-03 [Linderel]: Ask my muse, she's the one with secrets and a very, very disturbed head.

2007-04-06 [Aikon I]: where can i find your muse?

2007-04-06 [Linderel]: She lives in my head, and so far, I haven't yet witnessed her communicating with anyone else except me.

2007-07-26 [Aikon I]: kan ik nu misschien met haar praten?

2007-07-26 [Linderel]: Don't talk in Dutch to me, I'm not so far yet. :P

2007-08-02 [Aikon I]: it was worth the shot

2007-10-01 [Linderel]: I think I actually understand that now. Something like "Could I perhaps speak with her now?"

...the answer to which is still no. :P

2007-10-01 [Aikon I]: meanie :(

2007-12-20 [Easterling]: This is beautiful. I love the way you write. In the beginning I tried to remember my favourites so I could tell you which they were, but they turned out to be too many...

2007-12-20 [Linderel]: Aww, thank you. :)

2007-12-22 [Leaf_DaiLyn]: ah! A kindred spirit! What a breath of fresh air! You must be my friend, okay? Your style reminds me so much of... well, me ^v^ Except obviously, you have your own stories to tell, and your own personal experiences that come out. But your style reminds me very much of mine. It takes guts to put ones' personal poetry on here, for many reasons: one, to be that "exposed" (having your insides examined closely by complete strangers), and also, I always feared putting my poetry out there because of sneak-thiefs... but i'm beginning to think "Why would anyone steal it? It's mine- I experienced what I did that inspired me to write it, no one could possibly take that from me no matter how hard they tried.." and you helped me finally relaize, that people aren't generally like that. It helps me to see that people generally have more respect than that. That's nice, isn't it? OKay forgive the rambling- back to your poetry:
It's clear that someone you loved betrayed you, that the wind talks to you like an old friend, the moon sings to some part of your soul that you can't quite reach without it gazing over you, you see things deeply and are aware of many things that lots of us tend to forget about in our daily busy lives (as a mother of four under age of 7, this can be quite distracting at times). If you are anything like me, more often than not, when you start to write you never really stop to think about what you're writing till the whole thing is done. It just... flows out of you without needing to dither about which words to use or why. Then when you read it through for the first time, you wonder "Huh, did that just come out of me? Interesting.." (I'm guesing that's why you say you have a muse- cos the words just seem to come from somewhere else with little-to-no effort on your part, though I'm sure you usually completely agree with them ^v^) *lol* Now, if you were to tell me that at some point that lasted as long as years in your life- that you would wish a certain wish on the moon about finding your true love... on EVERY moon. Or that you used to dance around in pigtails and blow the dandelion seeds afar while making wishes.. then I would be scared. Cos I imagine I would be looking into a mirror when I looked at you. *Grins* It's beautiful poetry, and it makes me feel alive to read it. It's actually quite addictive- when I finish one I just have to keep reading through the next and the next and the next. Like I said before- it was a breath of fresh air, and I am grateful to you for sharing it with me. *definately in the mood to go back to writing my novel now* Here is a token of my gratitude *Hands you the highly coveted honeysuckle vine wreath award*

2007-12-22 [Linderel]: Whoa, long comment :D
Thank you so much for the feedback! It's always a delight to have my scribblings liked, and even more so to receive such lovely comments.
Yeah, some of that sounds familiar indeed. Many of my poems are about things and people I will never personally experience or meet, but just as many definitely stem from my own feelings. And yes, more often than not, the lines just flow without me having to think about it much.
I was a fairly quiet child, but dancing around and blowing dandelion seeds while making wishes sounds like something I would do now that I've truly begun to find myself. :)

2008-01-02 [Chetleon]: I think "Illusion of belonging" is the best one, besides, "Song Bird" which is short and to the point.

2008-01-02 [Linderel]: Thanks. I do agree that 'Illusion of belonging' is one of my best poems, although not the best.

2008-08-04 [Chetleon]: I like "Ruska" and "Home", they are both powerful, and emotional.

2009-01-20 [Chimes]: I love the most recent one, Lin. It's pretty.

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