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Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈

@rteller.bsky.social

918 followers 1.2K following 443 posts

Midwestern Gen Xer #poet www.kreativejoose.com

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Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 04/09/2026

Here's a poem of mine, "Dripping Gown" for #PoemsAbout #SheddingSkins @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 25/01/2026

Here's a new #poem I wrote today... www.kreativejoose.com/2026/01/the-...

The world I come from wasn’t like this
In the land where I grew up
Everyone knew that racism is ugly
Everyone knew that Nazis are evil
And that hate is dangerous
The land where I grew up took in refugees
Gave them hope and sheltered them from enemies
Offered jobs and schools and churches of all kinds
But not much was taught about slaveowners
Not much was taught about genocide
Not much was taught about how it came to be
Except to say that it was destiny
Just look at this beautiful land
At the mountains and prairies and
Opportunities
Look how free you are in this world
To dream about wealth and safety
Where not much is taught about empathy
And not much is taught
About propaganda

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 09/01/2026

Here's a #poem I wrote this week about this week

I am a mother in Missouri
Where oceans used to be
Where mountains have slumped over
In their age
In their weariness
I am Minneapolis
I am Portland
I am Chicago
I am New York
Just as the sun rises each day
And sets every evening
My heart beats
My blood runs cold
I long for the comfort of caves
And the serenity of small streams
With every headline a flash of lightning
I ache for torrential rain
The kind that collapses trees
And blocks roadways
The aftermath crafts the path for us
So all that's left is one choice
That leads us to love
That leads us to live

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 23/12/2025

A #poem of mine called "Manufactured" #PoetryCommunity #writing #poetry #PoetrySky

No one is here to think about
The sound it takes to make a couch,
The thrumming of needled machines
Stitching a quick and low thread count.

Upholstery is mostly strings,
All tied together tight and neat,
From colors changing suddenly
In some confusing, humming scene.

The fabric doesn’t know the pit
Of chopped up foam in fluffy bits
That mingle in their flowing ways,
Pushed into pillows ’til they fit.

The cushion covers hear the way
The vacuum pressure takes the stage
To make an unsuspecting square
Shrink down for slipping over there.

And you won’t hear a wooden frame
Flinch or quietly complain
About the staple’s stinging wails
When shot from guns with coiled tails.

The buttons have the worst of it,
Smothered with layers where they sit,
Then pressed between heavy machines
That bend and lock shapes as they click.

When everything is said and done,
The zipping, stitching, stinging hum,
The stuffing, shrinking, tucked and wrapped,
The creased and pleated patterns match.

The screwy squat feet bear the weight,
And everything looks plush and great.
No one thinks about those sounds
When all we see’s a perfect couch.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 19/12/2025

For #PoemsAbout #Money here's one I wrote called "Death and Taxes" @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

I was eighteen
When I lost my dad.
He didn’t pass away,
He just killed us.

I used to talk to him
About his work.
He used to explain things
I thought I’d need to know.

See, he was an accountant
For the geological survey,
And before that,
he worked on maps,
And before that,
He sold insurance,
And before that,
He sold jewelry,
And before that,
He built furniture,
And before that,
He sold shoes.

So I thought he knew a lot
About how things worked.
I would ask him questions
And listen.

One day he said he was having an accountant do last year’s taxes.
“Aren’t you an accountant?” I asked.

“Well, yes,” he said.
“But last year some things were different
With the house
And your mom’s piano students
And some other things.
So it’s just easier
If I pay someone else.
Tax codes change.
There’s a lot to keep track of.”

I’ll be honest.
I hadn’t thought much
About tax codes.
So I asked him,
“Should I use an accountant
When I’m on my own,
When I’m doing taxes?
Is that the way to go?”

“Well,” he said. “it depends
On what kind of job you have,
What kind of income,
But you don’t really need to worry about that,
Because probably, what will happen,
Is your husband will take care of those things.”

In that moment
I had only one certainty:
I could not listen to him
Anymore.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 15/12/2025

Sharing a new #poem from my website this week #poetSky #PoetryCommunity I'll be making an effort to do this more often 🍃🎵

Honeysuckle

Give me a guitar to strum
With a turquoise strap and twelve strings
One that's black and emerald green

I'd walk around with it barefoot
But shoes are required
How am I supposed to feel inspired

The city lights are dim these days
The pavement is painfully gray
Unsung chords lead me away

I wander the forest and kneel in the moss
Sometimes I find honeysuckle
Sometimes a wasp

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 14/11/2025

For #PoemsAbout #Desire, here's one of mine that was published recently in Locust Shells Journal locustshellsjournal.com/volume-2-iss... @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

that tension between the zucchini
Change my mind about the sordid way he smiled at me
and brushed his shoe against mine
I apologize
my foot was in his way
again
then again
so I lift an eyebrow as the server arrives
with a plate of appetizers
and I’m granted another smile
temptation
tension
I slip my foot out of its shoe
desperate
daring
slide it between his knees
into his lap
he caresses the ankle
my Achilles heel
and finds out
he loves zucchini

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 31/10/2025

I wrote this a few months ago for a different prompt, but I also like it for this week's #PoemsAbout #Blood @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Nebulous

Make my heart explode all over this bed so my skin and bits of ribs and lungs and blood cover the sheets

Then you'll see how nothing was inside me from the start so there was nothing to be lost after all

I must be a black hole the way light keeps coming toward me like it can't bear to stay away

I miss that spark that lit me up back when I felt like more than stardust floating helplessly through space

What is this place where hope can't hang around and there's no air to breathe

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 24/10/2025

Here's my piece for #PoemsAbout #BurnForTheCamera @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

The Shadow Dance

A shadow taps along behind
Because it doesn’t have a mind.
It shuffles back
Along a track
That bends away when spotlights shine.

Now Plan, she was the brightest star.
Her smile beamed from near to far,
And we all knew
That it was true,
Her sparkling eyes could stop a heart.

And me, my hopes are just a dream,
From heel to toe my steps unseen.
They look through me,
“How cute is she?
Trailing this flashy beauty queen.”

Great beauties need a shadow there
To echo back their every care,
So people see
When they should be
Applauding that bright glow they share.

And everyone will dance along
To music she is playing strong.
They sing her praise,
Their cameras raised,
When all I want is my own song.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 11/10/2025

Here's my offering for #PoemsAbout #ImperfectMe @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Twelve

Sometimes I feel
I don't belong
And being here
Just feels so wrong.
From deep inside
A quiet moan.
And all I want
Is to go home.

I get nervous.
I don't know why,
And all I seem
to do is cry.
It's dark and wet
And hard and old.
And all I do
Is what I'm told.

The world is there.
It's big and bright.
But all I see
Is empty night.
Nightmares and fear
And evil queens
Are all I have
In place of dreams.

But someday soon,
I don't know when,
This misery
Will find an end.
Can someone please
Help me relieve
The endless fray
Of being me?

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 04/10/2025

I'm a little late. Here's my piece for #PoemsAbout #Mannequin @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk

Surveying

I may as well be a mannequin
All I can do is stand here and watch
Even though I voted
And I called my representatives
And I filled out the surveys
And I went to the town hall
But still children are being tied up
In the middle of the night
While the President is building
A golden ballroom
And all that's left to do is
Stand here with a sign that says
Please do not touch

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 19/09/2025

Here's my offering for #PoemsAbout #SilentPlanets @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Quiet as dirt

When I'm dead and buried
I'll hear the earth sigh
As I sleep silently
The soil hums
Inhaling with each winter
Exhaling slowly with each spring
No voice to issue complaints
A chorus only visible in
Vibrant autumn leaves
Vivid and varied
In their undying rhythm

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 17/09/2025

Here's one I've been working on today, "Wonderboy" #PoemsAbout #Candlelight #WednesdayWIPs @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

The day Robert Redford died
I was supposed to call the IRS
To reinstate my installment plan
But I left the number at home

The day before I had an interview
For a new job I was excited about
Only to find out it paid $15k less a year
There was no way I could take that hit

Robert Redford was 89 years old
And died surrounded by loved ones
Hollywood mourned and the world mourned and I thought of my mother

For some reason she taught me to follow my dreams
Then endlessly criticized me for it
Maybe all along the lesson was to watch out for women you can't trust

Light a candle for my dreams and mourn the passing of someone who followed his
There'll be no headlines when I die
Just a quiet dark house wishing for more time
We can't all be there to strike when the lightning's hot

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 05/09/2025

Here's my piece "On Brick and Concrete" for #PoemsAbout #Facades @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk and a photo from my hometown that inspired it

As the sun sets, let's walk around to the back alley, to the cracked paint and bent siding. The boarded up window doesn't care what it's hiding. I don't care how solid the street-side brick facade is. I rely on rotting concrete, rusted rebar breaking free. Layers of peeling paint show the true age of this place. The rusted dumpster isn't lying. The doorless shed isn't trying to be something it's not. I sigh in the comfort of gray shadows. These worn out walls are real. They haven't changed in forty years. They know me, and I them. In decay I trust.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 29/08/2025

Here's a new piece "Trouble Brewing" for #PoemsAbout #Riots @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk The struggle is real.

The morning is too quiet
The air is cold and stale
I fear the coming riot
My worn out face goes pale

The waters have run over
The grounds are dull and dry
How shall I find a way forward
When all I ask is why

I beg myself for fortitude
For uproar in the street
To not succumb to this foul world
And this new day's defeat

A grumble, moan, the stomp and roar
The hopelessness defied
How can it be on this dark day
The coffee pot has died

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 21/08/2025

Here's my piece "Dance with me..." for #PoemsAbout #Chandeliers ✨🎵 @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Under this nest of stars that sparkle silently, I can see the gold flecks in your eyes alight. And as we breathe each other's air we stare into the endless sea within each other's faces, within each other's hearts. What places rest within us where we find relief and laughter. Am I here? Are you real? Your smile, bright and brilliant, like the fountain of glass light floating above us here tonight.

Dance with me...

Under this moon of mirrors as it flickers,
you can see the wild beat that flashes through this crowded room. And in my eyes the promise of tonight's surprises, waiting there. Adventure rises through our bodies, through our minds, our arms high. What boundaries exist in the sky? Am I you? Are you me? Your hair flies back, unleashed, rebellious as the darkness teasing us with ecstasy.

Dance with me...

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 16/08/2025

Here's a piece for #PoemsAbout #Ceasefire @thebrokenspine.co.uk. @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Closure

I won't apologize
And neither will you
So you moved
A thousand miles away
And every day
As you sit on the beach
And watch the waves
The tide rolls in

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 08/08/2025

Here's my piece "Adrift" for #PoemsAbout #BlackSky @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk

Adrift

With no stars
Leading the way
I'm left
Searching the sky
Staring at sea
The moon
Black and new
Offers no light
To ease the endless
Stillness
The quiet rush
Of wave after wave
Pushing me toward
This abyss before us
Wide and open
Weighty
And waiting

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

I just submitted my MFA thesis! 🎉 A 60-page collection of personal narrative poetry using a child’s perspective, including elements of magical realism and a childhood understanding of spirituality and connection to the natural world.

What the Grown-Ups Forgot

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 01/08/2025

Here's my poem "Knowing Rain" for #PoemsAbout #StarCrossed @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk

If you cherish my beauty,
Then soak in my pain.
You can't understand sunshine
Without knowing rain.
Take a look out the window.
I'll show you my heart,
If you sit quietly.
Here's a good place to start.

There's a star out there somewhere.
It's where I belong,
In a far away land,
Where the world knows my song,
Where my logic makes sense,
And my smile can last,
Where my breath can run slow,
And the night goes by fast.

Somewhere those arms
Make a steady embrace.
I don't know who it is,
And I can't see the face.
I just know there's a star
Up there where I belong,
And I'm longing to find it.
I know it's not wrong.

Am I strong enough now
To keep searching so far?
I don't know where to look
Or what's clouded by scars,
Or how old I will be,
Or what stories it keeps,
Or which endless direction
The twinkle might lead.

There's a star out there somewhere.
It's where I belong,
In a far away land,
Where the world knows my song.
If you cherish my beauty,
Then soak in my pain.
You can't understand sunshine
Without knowing rain.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 18/07/2025

Here's my piece "Waning" for #PoemsAbout #WaxTears @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Do you think a candle knows,
With every breath it burns,
That as it glows with purpose,
It weeps until nothing's left?
Does it know fulfillment?
Does it know love?

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 11/07/2025

Here's my poem "Sacred" for #PoemsAbout #Keepsakes @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

He has a book of poems,
But it’s much more.
It’s traveled far.
It’s been through war.
Since the day it found him,
Throughout his life,
He’s moved house
Over 30 times,
But never lost it,
This sacred book,
In spite of all
The hits he took.
He holds it dear
Within a drawer.
The spine is cracked,
The corners torn.
For years it sat
Hiding from use,
Words locked tight
In pages loose.
And its long night
In this locked drawer
Means these dear words
Were read no more.
But here’s the thing
About old books,
They don’t care
What hits they took.
The words are there
Upon the page
And can be seen
At any age.
There’s just one rule
Before you read:
The more damaged it is,
The more gentle you must be.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 04/07/2025

Here's a slightly revised version. @rotherwrites.bsky.social thank you for the suggestion of making Man plural. #PoemsAbout #BurnItDown

They say the greatest spark is when
Men invented fire
But before that day we didn't have a way to
Torch the fields next door
Even though dynamite was invented to build things
Men decided there was much more
To be blown up
And even though fireworks were invented for celebration
Men decided to point them at each other
To everyone's horror
So I don't think it's fire
Men are inventing

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 04/07/2025

Here's my piece for #PoemsAbout #BurnItDown @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

They say the greatest spark is when
Man invented fire
But before that day we didn't have a way to
Torch the fields next door
Even though dynamite was invented to build things
Man decided there was much more
To be blown up
And even though fireworks were invented for celebration
Man decided to point them at each other
To everyone's horror
So I don't think it's fire
Man is inventing

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 27/06/2025

Here's my poem "Ink Well" for #PoemsAbout #ItsASin @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

what kind of symphony
our deaths
might have been
in this world that so quickly
points out love
and calls it
sin

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 20/06/2025

Here's my poem "Manufactured" for #PoemsAbout #Transitions @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social @karenpgonzalez.bsky.social

No one is here to think about
The sound it takes to make a couch,
The thrumming of needled machines
Stitching a quick and low thread count.

Upholstery is mostly strings,
All tied together tight and neat,
From colors changing suddenly
In some confusing, humming scene.

The fabric doesn’t know the pit
Of chopped up foam in fluffy bits
That mingle in their flowing ways,
Pushed into pillows ’til they fit.

The cushion covers hear the way
The vacuum pressure takes the stage
To make an unsuspecting square
Shrink down for slipping over there.

And you won’t hear a wooden frame
Flinch or quietly complain
About the staple’s stinging wails
When shot from guns with coiled tails.

The buttons have the worst of it,
Smothered with layers where they sit,
Then pressed between heavy machines
That bend and lock shapes as they click.

When everything is said and done,
The zipping, stitching, stinging hum,
The stuffing, shrinking, tucked and wrapped,
The creased and pleated patterns match.

The screwy squat feet bear the weight,
And everything looks plush and great.
No one thinks about those sounds
When all we see’s a perfect couch.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 13/06/2025

For #PoemsAbout #FierceBattle #Scars @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

Can we stop for ice cream?

I can’t believe you
How dare you
ask me that
You are so
ungrateful
Why can’t you
appreciate
what I give you
You never
appreciate
anything I do
for you
I’m a good mother
You should
appreciate
what you have
But you don’t
You always
ask for more
Why should I do
anything
if you aren’t
going to
appreciate me
I’ve never heard
anything
so rude
in all my life
You owe me
an apology
right now!

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 06/06/2025

Here's my poem "Spirits" for #PoemsAbout #Spectacle @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

Sometimes I wonder who I am.
I feel like I'm a grain of sand,
And if I open up my hand
I'll slip into another land,
Where daffodils are blue and pink
And everyone hears what I think,
But no one understands a sink,
And I could use another drink.

So bring me some old rusty toys,
And you and I can make some noise.
We'll laugh and play beside our boys
Because we know we got our choice.
And maybe when our night is done,
You and I can find the sun.
We'll sit and watch while everyone
Tries to something something some.

All they know is all their chains.
They're slowly marching to their graves,
'Cause they don't know how to behave,
And we can see their hearts need saved.
So come with me, come hear the call,
You and I will have a ball.
Maybe when we're done we'll fall,
But we'll know we had it all.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 30/05/2025

Here's my contribution to #PoemsAbout #Defeat 🖤 @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

For Wear
I'm running out of black clothes
I still have jewelry
Earrings
Necklaces
The shoes are always the same now
Black Doc Martens
Classic boots
They are at this point the only option
But I'm running out of black clothes
So do I make a uniform?
One outfit
Always the same
Seems too impersonal
Dehumanizing
To standardize mourning
But I'm running out of black clothes
And how
Demoralizing
To build a wardrobe around loss
The fashion of grief
A closet open
Ready for wear
I don't know what's worse
They say black goes with anything
I'll need a purse to match

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 23/05/2025

For #PoemsAbout #Glory here's an excerpt from a longer piece, "Dripping Gown." @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social You can find the full poem here: www.kreativejoose.com/2020/10/drip...

I turn some music up so loud
And dance all night under the clouds.
The raindrops sliding down my skin
Make me feel alive again.

I stomp and splash
And spin and scream,
Sway back and forth
Like it’s a dream.
To lose myself
In this wet night,
Bare feet in puddles,
I delight.

Pour all this darkness down on me.
You’ll never get a frown from me.
Just find a silver crown for me
And slip this dripping gown off me.

’Cause I’m the queen of what’s insane.
I breathe lightning and drink the rain.
And no one here knows my real name
When every day’s a different game.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 18/05/2025

This is a couple of days late. My firstborn graduated this weekend and there's been a lot going on for that! 🌟🎉 I'm catching up today. Here's my poem "Wrap" #PoemsAbout #NeverForget @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

You know how it feels
when you slide the key into the knob
and it fits smooth
without a jiggle or jam?
It was like that.

You know how it feels
when you catch a throw one-handed
from across the room and you know
you’ve pulled off something amazing?
It was like that.

You know how it feels
when you’re soaking in the tub and
you lean your head back against the wall,
close your eyes, and for just a breath,
gravity doesn’t exist?
It was like that.

It was a
slide the key in smooth,
one-handed catch across the room,
floating in a dark, warm tub
kind of hug.

A bandage for my wounded soul.

It was like that.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 09/05/2025

Here's "Nebulous" for #PoemsAbout #Stardust @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social #PoetryCommunity

Make my heart explode all over this bed so my skin and bits of ribs and lungs and blood cover the sheets

Then you'll see how nothing was inside me from the start so there was nothing to be lost after all

I must be a black hole the way light keeps coming toward me like it can't bear to stay away

I miss that spark that lit me up back when I felt like more than stardust floating helplessly through space

What is this place where hope can't hang around and there's no air to breathe

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 02/05/2025

Here's a new one from me for #PoemsAbout #Green 💚🌳 @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

Honeysuckle

Give me a guitar to strum
With a turquoise strap and twelve strings
One that's black and emerald green

I'd walk around barefoot with it
Except shoes are required
How am I supposed to feel inspired

The city lights are dim these days
The pavement is painfully gray
Unknown chords lead me away

I wander the forest and kneel in the moss
Sometimes I find honeysuckle
Sometimes a wasp

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 18/04/2025

Here's my piece for #PoemsAbout #GutterPrayer @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social #PoetsOfBluesky

Puddle

A puddle sits within a hole
It knows it doesn’t have a soul
It knows there’s no way it can grow
A puddle has nowhere to go
An empty dip is all it knows
When wondering about its home
A puddle has nothing to own
A puddle has no path to roam

All it can do is sit and stare
And wonder what it’s doing there
And soak the dirt from lower layers
While trying to imagine stairs
How anything could take a step
Above the floor where it’s been kept
And move beyond the hole it wept in
Finding time it won’t be stepped in

Show me please a place to be
That doesn’t have me on my knees
Where I can sprinkle through the trees
Without a worry if I’ll freeze
And crack the pavement in the road
While trying to outlast the cold
Or drying up in winds that know
A puddle’s death is always slow

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 11/04/2025

Here's my poem "Waves" for #PoemsAbout #Saltwater @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

There's nothing like the beach at night
When the seagulls are asleep
And the wind is still
The dark, cool sand comforts your feet
And the waves play with the moon

It's nothing like the Lake
Early in the morning
As the sun rises and the surface
Of the water is smooth as glass
So calm
So quiet
Breathing feels obtrusive

It's like the way our heads hit the pillows
After a long week
And we lay next to each other
Staring into those eyes
Where all of time lives
All of our future
All of our past

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 05/04/2025

Here's my piece "Cracks in the Wood" for #PoemsAbout #Thresholds @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

what happens when a tree dies
does it make a sound
does it feel death’s door
does it wish it’d had more leaves
or newer roots
or smoother bark
what happens to the tree next door
does it wilt
or crack
or split
does it mourn the squirrels that used to come over
or long for the birds’ return
what happens when a tree dies
does the forest know
does the creek weep as it spreads news of the loss
what happens to the soil
what happens to the cave nearby
do the trees around it cry
does anything happen to the sky
and why
don’t we know
the feel of death’s door
the grain of its surface
the cracks in the wood
why don’t we know
the dirge of the forest

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 29/03/2025

Here's a poem I've been working on this week #PoemsAbout #ShiftingSkies @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

Black feathers

I wake up after the storm and take a slow deep breath. Limbs and twigs are strewn across the yard, glistening with a wet sheen as sunlight skips across harsh corners. We leave the wood, let our neighbor pick the sticks up later because we know how much they love bonfires in the front yard. The high hot flames. Silhouettes of children running and squealing. Let the week turn to cinders while we sleep. You and I, we prefer black feathers. Punctuated caws as crows alight on nearby trees or the lonely lamp post across the street. Throw out your feed and we’ll watch them line up as the clouds part.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 21/03/2025

Here's my poem "Find Her" for #PoemsAbout #Awakening @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

That girl who aches for pencil and paper
the one who swings her feet
and looks up at the stars

That girl who demands cold pizza and soft hands
the one who brushes her hair
and shops for empty bottles

The one who strips off her clothes to sleep because she understands body heat
The one who says yes to the candy aisle because a dollar is nothing to pay for a smile

That girl, that girl
the one who says yes
the one who gives no fucks when she's getting dressed

She'll get you out there
She'll get you free
She'll get you everything you want to be

That girl, that girl
She's waiting inside
And you'll find her when you have nothing to hide

So tell us your story
pull out the pain of
every time your heart felt nothing but rain

'Cause that girl is waiting
and she wants to breathe
She wants to make wishes on dandelion weeds

That girl, that girl
She's what you need.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 15/03/2025

I'm a little late but here's a new #PoemsAbout #SoftLight @brokenspinearts.bsky.social. @alanparry83.bsky.social

Sometimes when you light the way
For others
It's a spotlight
A headline
Breaking news and we all light up
But these days that's hard to find
So I find
A soft light
A candle
A campfire
The glow of a screen
Anything that lights the room at all
Lights the way
Otherwise
We're buried in darkness

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 08/03/2025

Happy International Women's Day! Yesterday my employer had a flower bar and invited all women employees to make a bouquet of their choice. 💐🌻🌷

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 07/03/2025

Here's an excerpt from a longer piece. #PoemsAbout #Dawn @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social If you have interest in the full poem, it's here: www.kreativejoose.com/2015/02/a-ne...

The moon will some day crumble.
The sun will fade and die.
So I choose you, my golden light,
To fill my spirit's sky.

When the thunder rumbles,
And the quake of change is near.
I pray you know this certain truth:
A new day dawns and I am here.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 21/02/2025

Here's my poem "Homecoming" for #PoemsAbout #WordsUnsaid @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

How about you ditch your friends
And I’ll ditch mine
We’ll sneak away and find somewhere to shine
We won’t be high schoolers
We won’t be misfits
We’ll just be two spirits who finally exist
Let’s break off these shackles
Of schedules and cliques,
Kick back and relax in the infinite bliss
Of the rhythms we two can create and define
Through the endless churning of the
beasts in our minds

Come with me now please
And this moment will freeze
All the doubts and uncertainty stifling the breeze
You can follow me past all the doors down this hall
And we’ll open a window together and fall
Past the bricks and the desks and
the chalk and the rails
Past the wires and boards, the lightbulbs and nails
Past lockers and tiles, the clocks and the teachers
Past concerts and plays and gymnasium bleachers

We’ll fall into petals of beauty and grace
Evaporate raindrops invading our space
And whisper about the sweet luck we have found
After secretive hours of sneaking around
Slip into my car and we’ll just drive away
Let this whole town gossip of the day
Two shining stars disappeared from the sky
And of course everyone will speculate why
But they’ll never know
These creatures we two,
We theorized something better to do

We left behind futures with reason and rhyme
Abandoned constructions like money and time
To fly across magical forests with ease
To sleep in lost caves and
climb fish and catch trees
To kiss above cliffs under beautiful moons
And dance along rivers to nocturnal tunes
So much grand adventure awaits us ahead
Instead of their planned expectations I dread
But I haven’t learned how to shift on a dime
Or sort through the rules of my overbooked mind
Just walk away now
Maybe someday you’ll know
How badly I longed for a place we could go.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 14/02/2025

Here's "The Marrow," my offering for #PoemsAbout #BonesOfTrust @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

There's an ancient rhythm that is running through your bones.
It's the heartbeat of the river that is calling you back home.
If you walk up to the water, let your footprints wander in,
You can feel the passing current. Let it wash across your skin.

Then you wade out to the middle and approach the wall upstream
As it pours over the edge where the river takes a leap.
Come and face the thunder that is swallowing your ears
And step into the waterfall free of doubt or fears.

Then the power of the ocean and the peace of morning dew
And the joy of a blue sky all come rushing into you.
Then your body is a river and your bones are living stone,
And your mind becomes a forest for the churning waves of foam.

When you look out through the curtain, water will obscure your sight,
But let yourself soak up the view.
All you see is light.
Step back into that waterfall as it floods you with glee,
And you can taste the marrow of what you are meant to be.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 07/02/2025

Here's my poem "Revival" for #PoemsAbout #BetweenTheSheets @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

What magic is this that allows me to breathe?
To sing in the spaces between compressed trees,
To scratch and to squirm, to click and to clack,
To always move forward and always look back.

Do I crack, never knowing the realness of you?
If I’m here and you’re there, is our meaning less true?
Do I scream in your pillow or live in your head?
Will these fingerprints touch you long after I’m dead?

What magic is this that allows me to breathe,
Through time without space, through life without greed?
I somehow survive throughout all starless nights,
And now here we sit in a blue morning light.

Shapes tumble out, these small curves and lines.
They spill from my fingers, they drip from my mind.
Though I sit here alone, unsure what to do,
In this sacred silence, you sing with me, too.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 31/01/2025

Here's my #PoemsAbout #OldSkin @alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social

My Age

This skin is too soft
These cheeks too round
This face
It looks too young, too sane
It looks so strange and it doesn't explain
The years that I've lived
The places I've been
I need skin that's tough
Pocked and weathered
That wraps me in truth
Not this bizarre youth
Else how would you know
To beware my wisdom
Or see my real age

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 25/01/2025

Thank you! That line is inspired by this photo of the blizzard along the Gulf Coast this week.

News image of beach with palm trees covered in snow

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 24/01/2025

Here's my #PoemsAbout #BlankPages @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

For who

A palm beach buried in snow
white as a blank page
that waits for a story you'll never write

You look ahead instead
at the future
pale as death unknown

And we'll never know
the scream of the tree as it fell
the painful saw
the pulp it was pressed into

Or the chipping
the beating
the bleach that ripped away its hue
that stained it white
and left it here
for who

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 17/01/2025

Here's my #PoemsAbout #FromTheAshes @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

Burning

This pocket
full of posies
holds me
up
don't you know
dust to dust
won't let me
trust you
but you must
understand
this tree
standing in the center
holds us up
as we burn
and erupt
blocking the skies
and...
rise

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 10/01/2025

Here's my piece for #PoemsAbout #Clarity @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

The space between raindrops

I crave the space between raindrops,
The pause before the breath,
The rise of that sweet stillness
That brings my heart to rest.

Come fill me with an empty hall.
Nourish me with peace.
The silence just before applause
Sets my soul at ease.

Rebekah Teller 💙🏳️‍🌈 @rteller.bsky.social · 02/01/2025

Here's my poem "Unseen" for #poemsabout #untethered @brokenspinearts.bsky.social @alanparry83.bsky.social

Somewhere there’s a tapestry
Made from all that’s happening.
Every day I add a string
That’s woven through a silver ring.
The color, I can’t really see,
Even though it came from me.
Faithfully with it I weave
Another row, then add a bead.

When morning comes, I softly sigh,
Reflect upon my thready life,
And think about patterns gone by,
And how the knitting made me cry.
I mourn the colors in the night,
Wonder why I have no sight.
Thoughts forlorn, I long for light.
If only sadness made it bright.

Another string will then appear
Just as I can feel the fear
Of running out as loose ends near
Or having nothing left in here.
My heart will blindly weave this prayer,
But I won’t see an image there,
’Til with a whisper in my ear,
I hear, “Time to wake up, my dear.”