Rats (Life Poem)
Stepping through the building site of El Rancho,
The faded glory of the best hotel in Haiti once.
I think of “Old Times” when this was Paradise,
And a Rolls Royce collected you at the airport.
A seedy casino, neglect, an earthquake later,
Rats the size of cats show you to your room,
And “home from home” this is definitely not,
Everything turns to dust in the end, it seems.
Even us.
poem by Ian Beckett
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New Year In Vienna (Life Poem)
Old Year on last legs staggers slowly towards midnight,
Memories in our pockets are like butterflies and stones,
A deep dark lake of forgetfulness swallows the stones,
Some sink deep, others shallow, a source of pain again,
Butterflies now free lift our spirits in a tapestry of colour,
Flying high on past pleasures and treasured moments,
New Year born in a carnival of gluhwein and pink pigs.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Tonight (Love Poem)
In the darkness of this night,
Take my hand and hold it tight,
Caress me gently, touch my hair,
Just wanting you is hard to bear.
Kiss me now, our worlds collide,
Set free my passion deep inside,
Let me feel your heart beat fast,
Take away this pain at last.
Whisper soft those words of love,
Touch me, let your fingers rove,
To the place, we fly together,
Alone, together, each for other.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Tell Me About Love (Love Poem)
I love you openly
But you cannot see this
Because you are looking
In the wrong direction
Just turn around now
And you will see.
I love you quietly
But you cannot hear this
Because you are listening
In the deafness of silence
Listen for our love now
And you will hear.
I love you completely
But you cannot feel this
Because we are touching
In sometimes sadness
Hold me closer now
And you will feel.
poem by Ian Beckett
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The Gift (Love Poem)
There was never any objection or obligation or any-big-thing in this,
There was never any problem or procrastination or pride in this,
There was never drama or doubt or decision in this,
Only love.
There was never any concern or confusion or conundrum in this,
There was never any plan or principle or project in this,
There was never any struggle or soul-searching or sorrow in this,
Only love.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Hello (Love Poem)
Hello is just too a small word to express the
Happiness of hearing your voice, the close
Feeling I get when we talk, I wonder why?
Five letters in a word that was made for us
Because of the telephone, what happened
Before, was it just "How do you do today? "
This does not explain why, when you pick up,
My heart beats fast when you say the word,
And the missing-you distance is not so hard.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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Slow Motion Hell (Life Poem)
The week was spinning at 1000mph
I was sitting at a bar with friends
Very slowly I reached for my drink
And drank savouring the moment
Feeling every second in 3D sharp
Living in the moment, in control
My friends noticed my escape,
Expressed concern that I was
Having a stroke, so be warned,
Living life in slow motion might
Lead men in white coats to your
Door, your new heaven, may
Become an unintended hell.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Blue (Love Poem)
The smiling eyes like deep blue pools of love,
Delicious drowning feeling every call I make,
A flash of our seventh heaven lunch in Wien.
The lovely feeling of you nestling in my pocket,
Forever with me, good vibrations, but apart,
This lonely traveller is sleeping with you now.
Ten thousand miles, so far but yet so near,
Another week before my blue turns bright,
In your “Hi, good morning” arms again.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Schizophrenia (Sorrow Poem)
I am certain now that I am me and he and she
So I try to hide hoping you will not notice but
They say things They do things
To make you think To make you ask
That he is crazy Is she really mad
That they are not Then they are too
But he is she too And they say
So when I take the I should take the
Pills, so they and he and she will all go away,
So I will just be me again and you will not be,
As frightened of us.
poem by Ian Beckett
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