Poetry / Poets / Writers / Writing

3 Poems by Bekah Steimel

I.

When you need the words
when you want the declarations
the very center of truth
never aim your ears
toward the moving target
of my mouth
my lips
do not represent my heart
or advocate
on behalf of this love
look instead
to the purest of my confessions
carved on the remnants
of a tree
my words
my declarations
the very center of my truth
my purest confessions
outlasting the wind-swept whispers
spoken by other lips
much braver than mine

II.
The priceless poet
can spin any cheap muse
into eternal gold
ever-lasting
she is not an illusionist
counting on the faulty perceptions
of the naked human eye
she is the only true magician
a sorceress of language
transforming any pen she touches
into a universal key
capable
of unlocking the bolted brains
of the masses
pedestrian soldiers
that tend to fall in formation
and view the world as they are told
It’s not a matter of thinking
outside the box
she burns that box to ash
and leaves it to the wind
she does not color outside the lines
instead
she erases them
and reminds us
that originality is not dead
it has not all been said
or done
or discovered
she renews the world
with a stroke of her pen
finding nothing ordinary
nothing mundane
extracting beauty from everyday life
like some kind of literary surgeon
who is always on call
the life of a true poet
is not to be envied
she bounces around in the space
between exhaustion
and exhilaration
moving
without the gravity
that holds most of us down
keeps us grounded with sanity
and offers us
a common view of the universe
the life of a muse
is nothing
until poet and pen take notice
and drag it out under the light
of a well-lit stage

III.

I will mourn you
until I am mourned
love you beyond flesh
past my own breathless decay
I will hold you
as we crumble into each other
like the twin towers
the skyline will never recover
neither will we
this love is both terminal
and immortal
a love to live for
a death to embrace
without the fear of finality
I believe
breath is only a boundary
to be crossed
I will find you
where air is irrelevant
and all that matters
is what we cannot see

 


 

 

Bekah Steimel is an internationally published poet living in St. Louis, MO. Find her in The Legendary, One Sentence Poems, Sinister Wisdom, Southern Pacific Review, Vine Leaves, and more. Bekah’s pastimes include flirting, drinking whiskey and making people uncomfortable. Visit www.bekahsteimel.com.

 

 

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