Home Again (Love Poem)
I am with you now…
our distance banished, in skin-close loving warmth.
Your smile....
melts the icy chill of loneliness with springtime sun.
Your eyes…..
shine brightly now that a missing part of you is home.
Your lips……
express a long absent love in intimate eager urgency.
Your arms..…
banish an acre of empty bed in skin-close comfort.
Your body……
shivers in anticipation of loving touch that is meant to be.
I am with you now…
…needing you…holding you…loving you.
[...] Read more
poem by Ian Beckett
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Friday Night (Life Poem)
Chica cailiente, straightest hair,
Image rich, asset poor tonight,
Sexy sirens, seeking Mr. Right.
On this Friday in Santo Domingo.
Single fathers with kids, eager
To earn a weekly happy moment,
For all the mistakes of the past,
On this Friday in Santo Domingo.
The other men are here hunting,
Searching, looking everywhere,
But, into their partners’ eyes,
On this Friday in Santo Domingo.
The girls here are too young,
The men are twice their age,
Desperately looking for love,
On this Friday in Santo Domingo.
poem by Ian Beckett
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In Vino Veritas (Life Poem)
Dos cervezas por favor in De K’ffe,
Cold bite of the first beer refreshes.
Una mas and workday fades to dull,
The night feels bright and hopeful,
The Palitos de pollo satisfies hunger.
Conversation flows to Cepas de Altura,
Three bottles later the stories repeat,
Groundhog day of interesting lives,
With eternal friendship in every bottle.
Six corks line up like truth bullets,
In an aggression of arguments,
Maybe he has just said too much,
Friendship of an unremembered hug,
Next day sorry and failings forgotten.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Time Before Time (Love Poem)
I sometimes go back to my time before time
The past was over and the future was yet to begin
All moments since merged in a jumble of living
Slipping like sand through my fingers each day
Could I have known what the future would bring?
All the highs, the lows, the loves and the hates
Does it seem possible that all of this stuff
Just happened to me without reason or rhyme?
But when I look at my boys who weren’t even born
Those unforgettable ripples in the pool of my life
I know then that everything is real and worthwhile.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Connected (Love & Life Poem)
We are connected to this life by many threads
Which we only notice when they are broken
Whether family, friends, work or welfare, all
Pull us apart in different dimensions in time.
You are connected to me by small pleasures
Which we only notice when we stop giving
Whether interest, intent, wish or wisdom, all
Pull us apart in different dimensions in space.
We are connected to each other for ever now
Which we only notice when we are apart again
Whether travel, trust, freedom or failure, all
Pull us apart in different dimensions in love.
poem by Ian Beckett
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I Might Have Been (Love Poem)
I might have been a poet,
who was dreaming of the stars.
I might have been a scientist,
who was inventing nothing new.
I might have been an honest man,
who could not pay his bills.
I might have been a millionaire,
who was jumping to his end.
I might have been a criminal,
who was living like a king.
I might have been a terrorist,
who was fighting for a cause.
I might have been a politician,
who was playing dirty games.
I might have been a lover,
who was lost in search of you.
I might have been a failure,
but you made me what I am
poem by Ian Beckett
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Earthquake (Death Poem)
Our so-empty lives are filled with pointless plans,
Every decision impacts life, and sometimes death.
The earth split - death was in that sometimes day,
Where unending need became the end of their world.
Montana was my home-from-home in Haiti,
Art deco paradise, an instant hellish grave.
What of my shoeshine man with dirty shoes?
Two hundred dead too hard, one is possible.
Little things we do to change the world,
The smallest possibilities in this nightmare,
Saving lives each day with lifeline texts,
Today we are the hand of God in hell.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Life And Death In La Paz (Death Poem)
Taxi from El Alto spirals towards the clogged streets
A thousand metres down from hell to high-rise
Thanksgiving in America a daily struggle in Bolivia
Street lamp effigies signal certain death to thieves
Two bodies on road surrounded by yellow tape
Hombres sleep-like stillness an uncovered curiosity
This morning neither knew it would be their last
Fifty police listen to chief behind mahogany lectern
Death brings them 15 minutes of news-time fame
Cars and peasants pass by with unheeding speed
Is death the end or just another part of life in La Paz?
poem by Ian Beckett
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Little Things (Love Poem)
The hello again smile whenever I arrive home,
A welcome hug when I feel you in my arms,
The want you now look in a crowded room,
A want you back when I am going on a trip,
The sleepy smile as I leave you alone in bed,
A hope you have fun with our boys goodbye.
The holding hands as we walk on the beach,
A million Little Things in our lifetime together,
The no regrets ever as my heart beats fast,
A comfortable cuddle as we drift off to sleep,
The spring in your step after a sleep-in morning,
A closeness with the other half of me - with me.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Fate (Death Poem)
Before I was born my fate was a thread,
To be spun and measured and cut at a time,
Determined by Fates inflicted on men.
Why is an impossible burden allotted to me?
And why the decision that since
Pandora was created,
My fate ever since,
Is determined,
By spinning of thread,
In the sandstorm of life,
By immortals who meddle.
On this earth, when I really prefer,
To be left on my own to live life in despair?
With my daily bread and a glass of wine,
And the love of the woman I love by my side,
Who sleeps in my arms as I dream or my fate.
poem by Ian Beckett
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