Poetry 3 By Bekah Steimel


Cancer Lyric B

By Bekah Steimel

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I’ve lost you to an infinite geography I cannot map out…a distance I cannot scale. There is no looking glass or telescope strong enough to glimpse you. No compass to start me in the right direction. You are lost to me. Northern stars and lighthouses are no use. Sfumato. Up in smoke. And, now the air is clear. I can see for miles. My five senses no longer register you. You fell or flew off the grid. And, I am firmly planted in a place I no longer wish to be. I ache to track you, close the distance between us. But, you’ve left no breadcrumbs. I cannot pick up your scent. I call out to you. I plead and bargain for you. But, still you stay away. I am widowed and orphaned and abandoned. Please send me directions to you. Give me a flashlight. You asked me once if I would follow you to California, and I told you I’d follow you anywhere. I meant that.

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One decadent decade of destruction

by Bekah Steimel

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a feast of fool’s gold
painted rocks of poverty
mislabeled as wealth
advertised as freedom
and sold without receipt
but no fortune was found
no emancipation from misery
no return policy to implement
and undo such a reckless purchase
I tossed ten years into the trash
with my own two hands
but those same fingers
pulled me out of the rotting landfill
and into a pile of compost
breaking all garbage down
into fertilizer
to strengthen my garden of renaissance
and feed the world
with my unlikely harvest

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A life vicariously lived

by Bekah Seimel

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infuriates the dead
forced to watch you waste away
as they rot and crumble
without choice
if you get your kicks
without ever moving your feet
if you simply trace originals
and always paint by number
then this may be the only poem
that I will pollute with your face

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From a Distance

by Bekah Steimel

 

Death is the perfection
we seek
and fear to attain
all sins
forever hidden or forgiven
all secrets
tucked safely into timeless sleep
six feet is an infinite universe
of separation
and we are all beautiful and blurred
from a distance

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Avowed

by Bekah Steimel

 

Some promises are like beds
to be made and unmade in a single day
to climb in and out of
others are world records
just waiting to be broken
this is neither
this is a vow as honest as a mirror
as certain as death
I will love you imperfectly
I will love you and fail you
I will love you and fumble your heart
but I will never break it
or this promise
as certain as the only thing that will divide us.

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Bekah Steimel is a 37-year-old writer living in St. Louis, whose poems have been published globally. Her pastimes include flirting, drinking whiskey and making people unconformable. Find her recent work in literary magazines such as Oddball, FIVE:2:ONE and Crab Fat. Visit www.bekahsteimel.com and follow her on Twitter and Instagram @BekahSteimel.

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