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Write it.
Write it as well as you can
and if you
can't,
write it almost as well as you can
and if that won't happen,
write it less than as well as you can,
but do write it.
You know you must. So do. I want to write
a poem and call it "Bekah."
But if I do it is certain to fall short.
And so I lurk around a poem called "Bekah."
And write about nothing else.
Bekah. The most beautiful girl in the
world to me.
If I could have a daughter and build
her to custom specs, I would build Bekah.
That is how this girl eludes the poem.
I'll keep on trying, "til I reach the higher ground."
She laughs, laughs
opportunistically, with a sound
that was not known
Before her.
She romances laughter and
thrives on each guffaw,
A woman need never
Be bored.
Yeah. She talks, talks and talks
Her topics are infinitely
Personal. Her concern
Universal, her interest keen
as that of a genius
learning to read
Soon this child of brilliance
Will teach grown-ups how to be
How to keep the sparkle
humor, curiosity
For her it is something personal,
She cares. Bekah cares.
Bekah's body: 21 Bekah's soul: old
Bekah's energy follows her laugh
to the beyond that makes this world
small and miserable.
Bekah's laugh echoes beyond
our ears.
----------------
[ugh. not really]
Bekah
all i am is her mother
the vehicle she rode in here on....
she gulped her way through a life
too shortly she felt many ways
she can tell you
how she felt all the stages
of obsolescence never.
All I did
was carry her in and wail her out
She'll give you
pretty stationery drawn from edge to
edge,
mushrooms
total house music
oh my god! a medium
[they want to refuse you]
[the...illegible words, what i do not
know]
Wow. As if Bekah
hypnotized me
my girl, damned
if she was
about to miss
anything!
Eyelids weighted
supernaturally
and the kittens,
yes. The kittens
playing ring
around whatever
Skipping a tisket
a tasket
I left a letter
in my mother's
Cosmic mail basket.
Bekah. She is the undertaker
versed in counseling her peers.
All we need to do is
Surrender our finite ears.
Take easiest leave of
-------------
7:14 a.m.
And - then - I fell asleep! :)
Gee Bek. Seems I may have been on to
something.
ya think? I like that first part more
than I thought.
Oh, it cannot capture you girl. We know
that but we'll keep trying.
Because without you in the world our
love
lies heavy, tears.
Then we cry and cry and then some more.
Our love is lightened little by little.
Conveyance. Pain.
don't wanna let her go
love her need her
miss her so
Bekah-la, Bekah-la
She comes she goes
Sometimes I just wonder
Too rarely, I know.
amen.
With greatest love, your one and only
mother
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9-16-01 4:04 a.m. - You Had to Ask - Poem for a China Plate - Myth - Did You Know Your WomanBarbara Bales 1997-2002 all rights reserved
Impact Statement Delivered to the Court at the sentencing hearing of the woman who killed my only daughter, Bekah - 04-15-02 after tae kwon do
Indie Journal -
poetry tag results - Bales Law
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