Jamila

Dust
Grits her yawn
Her wind ruffled pool
Slaps
Fried blue concrete
This Arabian sea-side
Tires her dry eyes while
Tall shadows, bleached parasols
Blur through her
Squinted tears
Blazing her long hot days
Through mocktails
Banal tales
Airport novels
While the palm dials
Time to her
Dubai brightened
Sun

Gateaux Piment

When you’re short of breath walking up the street
Gateaux Piments

When your jeans hug tight and your buttons squeeze
Gateaux Piments

When you’ve just the time for a sneaky snack
Gateaux Piments

You wake with a start from a sweaty nap
Gateaux Piments

When your itching toes get no soothing scratch
Gateaux Piments

A tasty treat in a handy batch
Gateaux Piments

Country poem / Shtrum Tikh

Strum tick
Strum tick
All sing along
Strum tick
It’s my country song
Late in fat moon
Shiny night
Strum tick
Lights a stream of bright

Strum tick
Strum tick
Soulful pace
Strum tick
Here’s a heart warmed place
Rich in history
Sweet in sound
Strum tick
Swell with hearts sweet pound

Strum tick
You’re my hearts hot fire
Strum tick
Music drawn by wire
Here in this sweet tune
So sure
Leaves the beat
For love to pour

Scamper the rabbit

Our big, fat, white rabbit
Called Scamper
Has short white ears and pink staring eyes
I like feeding it carrots or lettuce
But Scamper likes sunflower seeds best
Our uncle Bill says Scamper’s too fat
And would be better off cooked
With carrots and broccoli in the pot
But mum’s promised we’re not going
To eat him; no matter how big and fat Scamper got.

In The Middle of the Night

In the mid-
dull of the night
I lay
and listen to the rain
In this hot room
the sounds of splash
draw out my
slightly sighs again
Were you not here so
short-a-time-ago to
sweat with mine
The ticks
tock by
so bluh
dee slow
hammer out
such emp
tea time
Through this din of rain
and thunderous clocks
my thoughts
collect on you
I’m sure though
slow these days
will fly and
bring me close
in time to you

Morning

In the morning, when you wake
please wait.
Push me from your head –
Don’t push me from your bed:
Let me rise up
and wake up
and get up, to see
what you looked like
and smell like
and felt like to me!

The Keeper of the In…

Remember when you were lightening,
in the dark so wholly frightening.
You were the free one, so fantastic,
Wise as Thales, deep with magic

You escaped the demon slaying:
You escaped the holy, praying:
And you escaped a mind,
lost fraying.

I followed footsteps in the twilight:
I called to others to save your limelight.
Yet in the morn’ you’d lost the sunlight!
I summoned voices to save your last night…

I knew you could, you would, return –
Your name would once again
The throats of others burn.

We could’ve lived on forever
Although I pleaded, you claimed never,
Days would come when I’d know fever
Bear this heat (with you, survivor).

Our web of lies will not be forgotten
Another fable of the truly rotten
This high-hyped-pyre, this treaty written
Large of sound, yet lite on wisdom

Echoes of your grand lightening
Once in the dark, so wholly frightening.
You seemed the free one:
Pulsing magic.
Was just my minds burst –
thoughts fantastic.

  • this is an edited version of poem originally posted in summer of 2015.

50 Ways in Which I love Her

Those fingers and toes – that’s twenty
Her neck and her nose – There’s 2
Her belly
Her hair
Her smile
Her flair
And of course how she shares
I love you.

In my mind the tally’s now 30
Plus I argue her ‘Love You’s’ worth double
Then here is one more
I assure you, worth four
How she know’s
Every time
When there’s trouble.

From 50, we’re down to 16 (ish)
As my lovers
Hot love
Makes the chart
Some might find me smutty
To point out the putty
My mens-rea, tho’s to
Illume
Love’s dark art!

My ways carry on
Thru this dubious song
Which reminds me
My love birds warm trill
Humming when she finds happiness
When life is less a mess
Her’s the voice of the angels
A pill

Her giggle
Her get up
Her phobias
Like drinking and smoking
And shops
The way she finds worry
In the doe eyes of love
And that peak that she rides
And how quickly she
Stops.

Welcome to love life’s top 5!
Though I’d happily drone till you’re bored.
From the arch of her brow
To the grace in her swing
And her lips,
bitten tender in thought

The second spot’s filled by her breasts
And you might think that bawdily stark, but…
The point of this poem
The top of the chart
Is her forever surprise that she’s stolen my heart.

2511

I’m out on my own
with my dancing –
romancing!
All soulish and lonesome;
all jumpy
and live.
In front?
Maybe once – but now
mostly behind!

It’s a frightening
awakening,
unabashed assault,
on my brain
every day
and it’s sending me old!

She says different

This isn’t mixed messages
She only sends out one
It’s long and convoluted
And sits uneasy on the tongue
But
It’s just the same
It always is…
Her conciliatory song
That i love you
That I’m a little bit worried
That she’s not sure who’s right
Nor what is wrong
As I waste what we’ve been given
Charting courses, this stagnant race,
As we writhe in guilt
Or fake and wait,
consumed in lies through lost nights due embrace
Her voice as calm as stone
Embittered, pleading not be left alone
There is a light that glances us
In loves fine spirals
Leaving some sweet trace…

Lostening

We blink at each other
thru some fug of confusion
The slow eyeball roll
to a grasp for conclusion
I hear your noise distant
As when wisps of mists cloud
All the words that you say
And I blink in ascent

Some time some time ago
we sang the same lyrics
Your accented verbs
lit my mind with loves fire
Attuned to the vibrant chords
Lept from your full lips
I wondered the musical
majesty of breath

Yet here we sit side by side
Tone deaf and mystified
Straining to glean
just a semblance of sense
I hear you, don’t get me wrong,
My ears are not yet deaf
What i hear is not quite though what your tongue likely meant

Love is the drug

heart-drugs

Love is the drug I hear them say
Can I get it in a tablet or a nasal spray?
Love is the drug and it’s messing with my brain
Your detox did today but I’ll backslide again

Let me get caned in your cuddles
Do a gram of wet-eye-stares?
Or maybe try some methalove;
Warm and close but not as scary?

Love is the drug, light afterglow
My shot in the arm, your ultimate dose
My sweet narcotic of nuzzling necks
A sure-fire hit for knock-out sex

Love is the drug
The balm
The pain
Our tearing loss
Our need to do it again

From the soaring highs of love’s hot fix
Where blood rushes blindly inciting my psychosis.
We lie it’s forever. I believe it’s what hurts.
An infinite comedown and it’s aching our hearts.

 

The Uprisen

Stańczyk by Jan Matejko (1862)

Stańczyk by Jan Matejko (1862)

I’m revolting in our kitchen
I will not wash another cup
Nary the bins are emptied
And I care not who’s turning up

In the toilet I’m revolting
You can guess the seat stays raised
A growing ring of gloomy grey
Entombs the tub in waves

The floor of our thru-diner
Is an irksome furry muck
For I’ve revolted against the oppressive regime
That bids I vacuum up

Window’s streak with weeks of grime
The laundry mountain hums
Shadows stretch from coves
– such as spiders hide –
Yet I’m sticking to my guns

Once in a while love stands the test
Resists worldly weights and… sails
Yet sometimes – oft noticed far too late –
Once in a while love fails

So leave me to my misery
Let this dirt I foster bloom
You Watch your ‘Bake Off’ finally
I’ll sulk, revolting,
in some dark room

Beck’ Beat December

Beck' Beat Poetry December Poster

In a tumultuous world, a world of apparently unending descent into division, where is the warmth? The Bonhomie? Where is the sensible ascent of humanity through the love of verse and appreciation of the dynamic, the diverse, the intertwined voices of people?

Yes that’s right; our theme for the December edition is LOVE!

Bring your best, worst, favourite, most tear-jerkingly audacious verse to #beckbeatpoetry December to share with our appreciative audience of word lovers.
New for the end of the year: #storytelling

You have 5 mins infront of other people. That is the only limitation on our Open-Mic event.
Doors open 6.30, the mic goes live at 7 for your own, or your favourites to be shared.
The audience are receptive, enthusiastic, and gone by 8PM!

Look out for the latest tales at https://facebook.com/beckbeatpoetry and follow our exploits on Twitter @beckbeatpoetry or #beckbeatpoetry.

Pop

You know, he’s the most enormous person there is in the whole wide world.

Where is he?

The music is fading.
Truck’s stopped and everyone else is getting off, entwined in mums and dads,
so where is he?
You glance from big grinning face to big laughing head… Nowhere!

Try not to panic!
It feels empty now.
Gripping hold, tight, to the bar.
Afraid to stand, you fight back those early tears
and bite your bulging bottom lip.

Two huge hands reach in.
Click. You’re free; those hands, in your armpits, thrusting you skywards!
A reassuring bass voice
“Hello Twinkle! You enjoy that?”

“Dadeeeeee” you squeal,
beaming your best tooth-filled Beam back,
as he hoists you snuggly onto one arm and presses you against his wall of chest, for a carry!

Now that you’re three,
your arms easily encircle his tree-trunk neck
and you both sail along past other tempting stalls and flashing rides.
“Dinner soon” He harrumphs, close to your forehead
as you quietly de-panic and enjoy the comfort of the best ride in the show
– your best daddy in the whole wide world.

Party at Aunty Kayes 1932

Party at Aunty Kayes 1932

In Dreams I Am Healthy And Wealthy

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

So dreams come each night differently –
Last night there was a foreign tramp eating our swans
We fought – I couldn’t find my voice
In dreams I often don’t

One night I may be lost in an enormous house
Or fleeing an ominous villain
At night these thoughts invade my head
Escape my bed
Fill up the dead of sleep

Sometime ago I dreamt of flying
Skimming treetops down steep slopes
A quick paced spring and over again
A divine dream of falling down

This is the trick of these night flicks
Filling my brain with illusion
Each day I awake
Into a lovely right life
And take a tick to bring peace to confusion

But even these dreams
As glorious as stars
Never leave me wishing
They were how things are
Even though in my dreams I am healthy and wealthy
I’m richest with my Malika

Sad Tears

Tears drop hotly from cheeks
They run down
Dry before they reach the ground
A store of tears built up o’er weeks

Dressed in coats dragged fresh from the streets
Worn bare
Reveal a heart so rare
Cold golden heart mired in defeats

Through windows high in walls
Open to sky
The saddest song drifts by
On cold hearts sits the saddest song of all.

Alison

My pretty dame.
I will meet you again
again.

Sometime
in distant time
refrain…

I love your eyes
your sweet smile, pretty,
and quietly close
I sing this ditty.

One Night Thinking

Softly ruffled; her voice
breaking like equatorial tide
against my ear, my love

Tentatively closing on a body
quietly shivering (not with cold)
with anticipation

Wracked and closing loudly
as her breath hums tunes known well
the end is close, I’ve loved

All the while I listen for her
words pour out like treacle
my mind is alive with her games.

Birthen

Woman; you were born a lady
pure as earth before the sea.
Lady I can see you calling
but I cannot stop you falling,
in this dark, they once called night –
you’re the person throwing light!
When each day has come on silent
this your knife; a final repent?