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Rebekah Guerra Poem
Dear sister I have been mistreated but surely not defeated
The fit are unruly and those who rule unfit to wear their minds along their brow
Pitted and fallen are we claimed she
Uproot all the timid, surely they’ll quake
The Earth is at rest while the heavens are testing
Surely the catacombs are our place of hiding
Rapture the worthy, the poor, and the hopeless still more
Braven the brittle and salvage what’s left of the widow’s stores
For we are at war, O’ good women, it’s a fight they will get
A Patriot cry, a life worth living, a pride in my name that keeps me standing
Hearty or meek, we’ll take the keep
Bind them up, but don’t let them bleed for pure bred savages are what we need
The breasts of the mothers who weep for the bodies
The weary who laugh gas portrait tears leaving their insight foggy
The Devil is hunting, Oh but let him flee
For our fists will have him fishing for his faith like rotting bait
Breeding among us are the wolves that seek only to measure their gut
And they will fill the skies 70 meters high with the the must of unfinished feet
Winded by bows of boredom and broiled beliefs
Sifted through, borrowed, unused
The lazy will not lay seated in our ancient sanctuaries
They will lay pitted among the soiled seeds and left to the leeches
Reign in the kingdom of popular knowledge do both snakes and sirens
Danger is beneath us and furnaces over heat us,
Leavened bread will rise our eyes to the souls in need of teachers
If education ain’t free then dare me to teach for free
Let linen and fleece overwhelm us all
For the sun rises still again, constant with the moon
Midnight is foreign and sunlight is gloom
For inside these walls our eyes will close soon
The mirrors outs our flaws and undersea our scars
But heaven is shaking and creation’s worship awaits us
If every day is good and every evening soon
Then tomorrow is only distant, a matter of your zoom
Jupiter is rising further south than my liking
Perhaps it was the wind that blew it there
Or the birds that sang it somewhere upstairs
Or the lions that laughed it underneath body beats
Or the vines carried it to prepare it for more pruning
Signs are timing and the clocks are not ceasing
So listen little one, I know you are bare, but don’t be a fool
Comb your hair.
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
O’ good woman (3)
Where’s your head gone (4)
Rolling around in other men’s beds, huh? (7)
Look what I found (4)
Your baggage unbound (3)
Should I refold the linen wraps on the ground? (9)
Appease your lease (3)
Good woman, good grief (4)
Where did I go wrong? (5)
Your skin is weathered (4)
Browning and drowned (3)
Isn’t the floor quite cold down there? (7)
Forget me not (3)
Your mother’s wise whispers (4)
Surely she has prepared a house for you here? (9)
You are almost grown (4)
Full of bones (3)
Might your feet fall near? (5)
Fatherless and shy (3)
Teeth bittered and loose (4)
Tell me, does he listen to you? (7)
Don’t untie Yesterday’s shoes (4)
Let her walk (3)
If you ran bare wouldn’t they sit and stare? (9)
Bawdied and wet (3)
Chugging canines underneath us (4)
Are we lost in roots? (5)
Let us play there (4)
Before they barter (3)
For without tufts where can we sail? (7)
Lest we call (3)
Upon the one exalted (4)
Do you sleep with my prayers in your window? (9)
Perhaps on the streets (4)
Where you dream (3)
Which one hooded her hair? (5)
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
She wasn’t thinking about her time and tomorrow
She broke out without a rendering word
Nothing sat well or sits well within her
In fact, she would rather pillow the past then paint a new picture
She still couldn’t hear the sounds that she borrowed
So she wept out a rhythm with words
Anything would work if she knew how to fix it
So instead, she fell into a home with no pictures, just paintings
If only she knew how to lift up the earth
Maybe then she could save them all from the future
Fall if she could, send a new story if she may
But they lifted her out of the picture and sat her in a pit
Left her there to rot and sink in soil
Rest assured she gathered her pebbles
And left the shore for another street of land
Perhaps, she would picture a new path cemented, unfollowed
Let her hide in the bosom of her liberty
Let her race to forever, unknown eternal poverty
Her bed lays underneath the juncture of earth's armies
Her love lays blinded by the bedside table
skin unsold, eyes bolted shut with fortunes untold
Then she knew only then she'd bleed today
Unsure of every corner that needed turning away
The streets bare, bordered beneath, winded within
She could lie and forfeit the figure drawings for fortune unnamed
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
She now sits awaiting the gates
Standing in a heavenly state
He robeless gown woven of air and mist
And her body made new every inch
The lofty welcome her in
Each one with a reverence
The nectar of Eden drip from the trees
While the songbirds lift their beaks sing
She breaks bread with our ancestors untold
And shares her coffee with waiter,
The windows and ceilings made from crystals and stones
While road paved beneath her is sealed with gold
Her feet skip and dance down every alley way
For her pain is gone and suffering no longer stays
Her feet never weary nor do her hands quake
For she has been replenished no fully awake
Only if her loved ones could see her new eyes
Not a tear in sight
Let the beasts of heaven come near and rejoice
For her life they make noise
She doesn’t escape the the sound this time
For the symphonies of heaven have beseeched her
Her hands clap louder than the disease that plagued her
Her feet are light like the clouds that sit beneath her
Her voice lifts high, for death cannot reach her
And there is no night dim out her light
There is no war left to fight
And nothing left behind
She has all she needs
And wants nothing more
Solo para sentarse
junto a la flor
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
There is nothing without his breath in my air
May his eyes always light my life until darkness overwhelms my flesh
May my soul sit with you forever
There is nothing I cannot bring forth
You are my offering, my sacrifice, my lamb of giants
The future is my fortitude
And my foundation is your mind
May you guide me into wisdom and grace
Finally we are beyond the bridge
Crossing over into our glory
Laid to Rest, For A Long Time
Angel de guerra where is your shadow over me?
Have you forgotten your children?
Lift us higher then the towers of Babel
Bring them to ruin, into the soil, into the seas
The rivers ring loud and the mountains watch over me
Bring me forth into the pastures of peace
Arise young warriors your bosom is beneath me
Bow on and lift your eyes toward the revelry
For war is at hand and the mighty will steer
My dear bother Yeshu may you guide us there
Hang us over like dried loin cloths that we my burn out bear
Let us bleed out the salvation of my people and win over fear
Bury, burn and build roots in the graveyard sanctuaries
The steeples are empty and their fridges are full of fiction
Beneath their warring riots they rot inside closed doors
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
Pounding out fear
Will lead me somewhere
Where or when or how
What then?
Next page, next light
Next dance, next fight
Picture this:
A song of the past
Hidden beneath the
Habits of altitude
Lower and longer
Sound and somber
Know and find
Crimes of rhymes
Listen up close
Hear what is near
Let loose of your worries
And cling to good cheer
Setting suns can't beat
the moon
Nor can mountains fall
from the sky' tears
Burdens are bending
And faith is mending
Move in, stay out
Come far, stand out
Pleas of hyssop trees
Leave after noon
Missing out
Beneath the stones
Pampered souls
Never remember
Opposites cannot rhyme
Unless they dance in sync
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2021
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
May we rise like the chords of time
That hasten us into your greatness
Let my body’s brittle bones
Become refined
Sharpen me, madres!
Into the warrior I need the most
Valencia in springtime
Share the same sting
May we bloom in this darkness
And bear our burden’s light
Heavy is this weight we carry
But heavier still is the spirit of fight
For death cannot reach me
But it sure can teach me
The the love you bear is
Nothing compared to the love she prepared
You poured over into my blood
As if you were my own
my voice sings out cries of conviction
Her, mi madre, mi amiga, my hen!
Hovers over us now
In the mist and in the rain
God how I long to be near her
My dearest friend and sister
God how the pain reaches so deep
Like a dagger has furrowed itself inside me
My feet stagger like a drunkards gone to battle
My shins fall to the floor
My stomach screams me awake
Oh God! my chest cannot rest
Every night without you is worse
But every morning I rise as a tree cut down
Not fully awake, not yet in a dream
My heart shivers as it flows in this winter river
Take me outside and let me run and hide
Amongst the soil and sand
Bring me in all hooded creatures
For I have come to faint amongst treasures
Surely I will be buried here amongst the dead
The worms will feast upon my borrowed flesh
Let my bones rust covered with rust
Never finished only branded
My teeth sink into your fallen fruit
Eat sweet death what you have framed me to be
My head lays in the mud of the forest
My body blanketed and bare
My womb of the earth quakes
of another close stranger
I let loose a shriek that swells me into the still
My eyes blinded by the flesh of the earth’s mill
My hands have not defeated me yet
May I stand? As free as I’d fallen
Posé, Se leve
Ensemble, Adagio En Haut
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
Dear child, dear woman
walk out, not in
Out to give news with those feet
The Enemy has no ground here
Nor any fight in these streets
Dear child, dear sister
don’t surrender
To the whispers of charm
For their flesh is falling deeper
Into death’s lovin’ arms
Dear child, dear teacher
go get ‘em and meet her
The love you once held close, closer
Than the ones who held you the most
And forfeit your land
to kiss the skin of their sands
And spit in the eyes of the blinded
Dear child, dear friend
press on, pull close
the lives that muse you on
May they gaze, may they raise a song
Worth singin’, and we’ll all sing along
Chorus:
Brave, brave, brave are the maids
Who clean around the corner
Save, save, save, save the slain
Who sits amongst the mourners
Raise a toast! Raise a glass!
And better yet, forfeit the past
My love, breathe me into motion
That we may dance! May it last,
Until the morning’s over.
Dear child, dear mother
give more, love to the meek and the poor
To the bandit, and widows,
to the poor sobbing willows
And the wealthy who can’t afford it
Dear child, dear saint of sinners
give grace, when our eyes can’t look up
When the moon has burned up
And the sky starts to rusts
And the stars turn us to dust
Chorus:
Brave, brave, brave are the maids
Who clean around the corner
Save, save, save, save the slain
Who sits amongst the mourners
Raise a toast! Raise a glass!
And better yet, forfeit the past
My love, breathe me into motion
That we may dance! May it last,
Until the morning’s over.
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
The sun is a new
But these tears only brew
When my eyes finally clear
All I see is you near
The very sight of you
Brings me warmth of the noon
Inhabit my space
That I may receive your stilling grace
Love like the benevolent shears
Of a seaman's fishing spears
That hunt to catch
To feed, To resurrect
By the the power of your passion
That could hear a thousand foreign tunes
Prepare the feasts for it will be roaring
With all of our dancing feet
May we hold each other near
As this thunder deafens our ears
Bring only what you need
For my loneliness exceeds
The highest of mountains
And the deepest of fountains
For my love was ever stronger
Like that of a daughter
But nonetheless
I’ll let you rest
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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Rebekah Guerra Poem
Sifting through the things that I need versus the things that no longer serve me:
People that make me uncomfortable
People that have too many opinions about every subject. To me that means they have a scattered focus. They drift to and fro without a concise resolve
They pattern without purpose
They wither and faint
Their bones shiver when they see war
But I will fight for them
For my sister who fears no tomorrows
To the woman who sits behind blind eyes
Without resolve she awaits the pleasures of the world
Copyright © Rebekah Guerra | Year Posted 2020
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