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Nancy Beckman Poem
Steps up to the mic and loses his cool
acts like a fool, way too cool for school
flunked out twice
wasn't raised to be nice
but you better believe he can pay the full price
with his back to the wall, he falls back on his own
just when everything blows
he's spitting lyrics so hard when it hits you
you know he does have some issues but that isn't the issue
its part of a plan
to be bigger than Stan, or a man who abandoned him when he was born
fatherless can't be stressed when he's reeling in all of the cash he can get
won't look back not the way
gone for now but to stay
won't leave us not today
he isn't going away
media says he is getting depressed but they only see lyrics
they don't see his feelings
don't you run now
you can only see how
a little support raised this kid to be a rap god who took an
a whole army and won
so don't say he's done because he's winning not won
and his song has been yet to be sung.
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2018
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Nancy Beckman Poem
The asphalt driveway is blackened over by rain
sand bags lie in the corner of the garage in case water creeps in, some sheep scurry in distant fields
Your elephant eyes are locked on the TV; 55 inches of electronic love
I liked lying under the moonlight on summer nights as moths danced towards the patio light I remind myself in melancholy moods, child please don’t cry, every season changes
Your vehicle’s mileage spans out to El Dorado’s grave and back
The snares of your life keep drumming it’s slower now, consistent patters; the TV is staring back at you copper pennies lie in wait beside your remote control, everything has a place with you
If I could tie a rope around your Will I would direct it towards my family, we are hopeful you will see us, and remember tossing your children in the air, serving crepes every Christmas morning and the brick house you lived in with your wife for more than two decades, a pool of tumbling memories without all the injures, it is ok to feel free, to be a part of a living zoo
thunder rumbles past our yellow one-story apartment, somewhere swans sleep unaware of rain
swaying slowly when you stand, I’m starting to realize God balances us all out
cement like air fills my lungs as the newscaster gets soaked by yet another wave
staring blankly, you blink at the angel food cake on the counter and shuffle on, towards the Rio Grande
bones of drowned years clamber past Nevada, Arizona, all the tumble weed states
falling forward we catch ourselves each day, we shade our eyes from the glaring sun, as the dust gathers below the Grand Canyon
you shuffle in and switch the channel, the trumpets settle in my heart as you ask, how did it go today?
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2019
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Nancy Beckman Poem
A hour is lost
tucked inside a dark vase, gone
creamer drowned coffee.
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2019
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Nancy Beckman Poem
Romanticize a scene
it falls in endless dreams
begin and then you see
that what it is is all it will ever be
crimson petals in a vase
lace curtains rise, open windows
open eyes
kisses soft
whispers cannot compete
of how delicate a moment is with you
leaves drop onto the ground
cold cobblestones
dusk drops upon us
melting on our tongues such is Autumn
until the second we must part
I'll hold you tight here in the dark
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2018
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Nancy Beckman Poem
A stuffy nose leads to runny nose, frozen toes and thick as jelly mucus
sitting in your chest not allowing you to rest, mucus really sucks because there is nothing you can do but suck on lozenges and say aw nuts -
sitting on the couch all afternoon
watching cartoons run across your living room
listening to geese fly by
thinking is it time to lie down and rest
just take a breath and maybe two.
My lungs feel like they have ingested glue
they huff and puff to no avail
so off to the kitchen I go to warm a big huge heaping bowl of...
touch of magic, toad tongues stew, a pinch of nutmeg, thyme for two - what are some homemade remedies that work for you?
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2019
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Nancy Beckman Poem
BETH ? REST
UP
Fever - fever rest
feeever rest -
darling don't fight it - no don't fight it
I will lift you --------------------------------------
I will take you by the touch
no
don't
fight it -
BON IVER
CONCERT 10/7/2019
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2019
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Nancy Beckman Poem
A sweet blackbird sings in the evening night
they tell her blackbird don't sing so high
A sweet blackbird flies in the evening night
they tell her blackbird don't fly so high
A sweet blackbird chirps, enjoying the morning light
they tell her blackbird to turn out your light
A sweet blackbird flies alone at night
she says to them "I am alright"
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2020
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Nancy Beckman Poem
At some point you have to see
that it is probably just me
to be sensitive to sayins' is just to be
so whatever people say to you
sometimes you have to say back: it's probably just me.
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2025
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Nancy Beckman Poem
You need to listen to me when I say
I simply cannot do this anymore
I understand why you turned away
In my eyes, there was something that told you
I was no longer the youth I once was.
I used to harness the wind
Not even your arms could hold me
I have tried in my own way to love you
I want nothing more than to kiss you
through the braids of Orion's constellation but now stars are dying at my feet
They twinkle then fade away like aching dust.
Part II
My heart is a furnace — it warms to others warmth.
those who aren't you aren't of any interest to me.
But yet I sit and watch the embers dissolve.
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2020
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Nancy Beckman Poem
Feels like we’ve set each other adrift
Thin hugs are no gift
Your clothes hang in our closet
Frames of smiling faces sunshine backdrop
Me talking to another shouldn’t make you shudder
Now it’s too late to recreate
Something that was once so great
It’s like trying to fix my grandmother's broken blue plate
It was priceless and now
no amount of glue could hold us together
Choking on cold leftovers of affection
Isn’t something I had reckoned
If it’s over, please tell.
So I can know if your love has reached the bottom of its well.
Copyright © Nancy Beckman | Year Posted 2018
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