BEKAH STEIMEL - POEMS

Bekah Steimel is a poet aspiring to be a better poet. Her recent work has appeared in Section 8 Magazine, Crab Fat Magazine, and Yellow Chair Review. She lives in St. Louis, MO (USA) and can be found online at bekahsteimel.com and followed on Twitter and Instagram @BekahSteimel.

---

              Post Traumatically Stressed Democrat
 
A 2:30 a.m. stroll
in between the tail of November
and the teeth of December
It's so cold
the moon is wearing a sweater of clouds
It's so cold
I'm inhaling life
and exhaling ghosts
The branches are nearly done
with their strip tease
and there is a premature ejaculation of
Christmas lights
on the faces of a few houses
Though every unidentified silhouette
is vaguely menacing
at this hour
it is the shadows I cannot see
that pose the biggest threat
in these dark times
It's been thirteen nights
since this country ran red
as if we had been slaughtered
Thirteen nights
since my country miscarried hope
and equality
and birthed the fraternal twins
of bigotry and fear
The second uncivil war
where many of my enemies
-the shadows I cannot see
hide behind the white sheets
of their smiles
while the rest spray paint swastikas
and harass me at gas stations
I am frightened most by those
who love me
and unleashed my waking nightmare
then told me not to grieve
It is not my onus to soothe you
to smooth your feathers, ruffled by our
reaction and dissent
I am grieving
I am the synonyms of grief
but I will never be the final stage of grief
I will never accept this
I will never bite my tongue and chew on
your justifications
It's so cold
the moon is wearing a sweater of clouds
It's so cold
I'm inhaling life
and exhaling ghosts
It's so cold
because I am realizing
Blood is not thicker than bigotry.
 
(Self-published on Facebook 2016)
 

 
                    Pay Keen and Close Attention
 
to the maneuvering
of her lips
but the motion of her words
always pirouetting
around the truth
her stories
her unlimited stories
cannot stand still
forever shifting
similar to her eyes
her tall tales crumble
like the Twin Towers
she is her own plane
her own Kamikaze pilot
and I cannot rescue a friend
so hell bent
on watching her life
burn to ash
 

 
                       We never find what we seek
 

we only unearth surprises
and forgotten history
discovery and excavation
revelation and removal
I sought perfection
and found security in scars
I hunted Death
and stumbled upon a reason
to breathe