bekka walker

bekka walker Mar 2015

Watching you stumbling through your chords I swear to whatever the **** we call god, I saw you for the very first time.
P0etic and afraid.
B0ld and timid.
Moving through time on the wavelengths your fingers said were appropriate.
Unsure and solid.
But most of all h0nestly eager.
I soak you up as you glance my way.
You see a city beneath your surface.
I say a universe~
I told you I saw it in your eyes.
Little brown nebulas dying to escape.
I see it now~
Like the color blue.
I am the egyptians and you are my sky.
Shine on Geminii.

bekka walker Jan 2015

Your soul on the map of my heart

Precursor:

I met a girl who ran from her own footsteps. The harder she ran, the louder the pounding, the greater the fear. She either couldn't stop moving, or became paralyzed.

and this is for you.

I wish I could write poems for you, but I can't quite pinpoint your soul on the map of my heart. It's expansive like the ocean- sometimes you're Christopher Colombus, and sometimes you are North America. Complex like the wonders of space. More captivating than a dying star on it's last stage of nebula spilling light and color into the cosmos as it kisses the darkness goodbye. Your soul is a locket and the universe is inside glowing against your human heart, and your eyes aren't big enough windows to see it all. Your fingers are secret entrances into the place that no one goes as you solemnly strum out your sorrows and joys. Sometimes you are the ocean, sometimes you are the bottle, and sometimes you are the message inside! Moving along with space and this thing we call time~ you are revered. A goddess amongst humanity for the sprinkle of divine that's touched you, kissed you, birthed itself within you. You may refuse to see the halo floating above your ether, but I promise its golden light shines upon those who forget that they are not alone. In their hurt you remind them that this is what it is to be human. You are what it is to be alive. Changing with the wind you fear your face is a facade.You are not who you were, and you don't know who you will be, and whoever said it must be one way has robbed you of the truth. Because constant consistency is for the complacent and change is the destiny of the alien angels that inhibit this earth, moving us towards a higher consciousness. Your secret language you hide between your bones is craved by those who are controlled by silence- bring them to life with the breath of truth you possess. Your fear makes you selfish, so steam forward full force, with self abandonment.
You, my beautiful.
You, my love.
You, are meant to change this world.
If I had to pinpoint your soul on the map of my heart,
I might guess you were an extraterrestrial threat- an alien-
born among us to bring heaven to hell. So let your burning heart go among this icy world. Don't fear the unknown, it's pertinent to your existence. Someday you will know, but for now, let your heart speak the things your mind cannot comprehend.

bekka walker Dec 2014

My Cosmic Comet

You're on the other side of the world, and still you don't feel so far away. Almost like my mind has created a black hole you live in and the gravity of the situation has bent time and space in half for me.
Maybe thats a far out notion,
But baby you're a far out man.
Your cosmic waves have knocked me out of orbit and thank the divine because I was headed towards a righteous meteor waiting to smash me to bits.
You've shed some light on the darkside of my moon when you fearlessly landed on my daunting craters and planted a flag of freedom.
Is it naive of me to believe in miracles?
But what is this life other than miraculous?
It's like you told me in my dreams-
"You've got to find the cracks in reality".
And that's where I'll meet you m'love.

bekka walker Dec 2014

My Red Cheeks and Your Wooden Walls

I lay my red cheek heavily on the wooden walls that have enclosed some existence for... how long?
Planks upon planks of royalty- sliced apart to shelter me. Keeping me safe.
What kind of sound did you make when they cut you down? Did others see? Did you hear their hearts break as you thudded into the ground? Were you proud?
To lose your crown.
And now you're holding your place, as a families base in some nowhere tiny town.
So tell me, What have you seen here?
You freckled knotted wood!
You can trust me, you can tell me!
As I sleep- whisper into my dreams.
Your gorgeous and solemn,
and
your dead silence makes me angry.
My little red cheek blushes even harder at your hollow absence.
Are your secrets trapped forever behind your once so stoic posture?
And if your secrets are lost, can I whisper you mine?
Will you keep them hidden in your history? Add them to your rings?
Remnants of who you were stare back at me.
I guess you could say the same.
You have heard my secrets.
You do hear my cries.
When it's 3 am and the weight of my sorrows is too much for my shoulders, and your floor boards creak, just like you could speak.
You know that sometimes our shelves need dusting.
You offer me a place to whisper more grey matter into the air,
still hoping to lure you out of silence.
It's not fair that you know so much more about my soul.
Could you please tell me what I'm going to sound like when I come thudding down?
Your secrets are too deep.
So I'm left with my little red cheek anxiously pressed against your wooden walls.

co/tab

bekka walker Dec 2014

More than death

If I had the words to say, I'd tell you.
But words are fleeting
and far too many people over
complicate simple meaning.
So I tell you "I love you" and hope that it's enough.
3 little words hang heavy in the air.
They are the gravity.
Or more,
They are the tiny secrets between gravity holding it all together.
I will every molecule in my being to keep them from imploding,
******* along the seams of my skin to make sure everything inside me doesn't come ripping through.
I am a child first playing with fire,
I am the shepherd girl facing my giants with rubies instead of stones.
Burning inside,
I slingshot myself into you,
hoping that,
together,
our explosion will rip apart both our bodies,
our insides will splash across the stars like we always dreamed they would.
Our protons and neutrons amounting to something more than death.
If I had the words to say I'd tell you,
But I love you will never be enough.

co/tab

bekka walker Dec 2014

is

Things that matter are things like space and stars and gravity.
But sometimes those things don't wake me up in the morning.
Perhaps I'm searching for happiness in mountains of magazines
and
billboards are filling my mouth with bubbling ideas of dollars
and
cash is bloating up my throat.
Biting my nails tastes like dirt and sweat from inside some falling apart shack.
Am I dying to the world?

bekka walker Nov 2014

a great barrier

I wake up in the morning wishing I could melt into your ether,
but Apollo isn't strong enough.
So I crawl my body on top of yours hoping that maybe I'll sink down into you, But gravity isn't on my side.
I neither sink nor float.
I'm trapped, perfectly suspended, between two disbeliefs.