Nicola Beckett on BANANAS
17 hours ago
Oh...... another day .... thrown away
another pain .... nothing gained
Stride on - to the sunlight
Stride on - through the shadows
Stride on - even though it's night
Stride on - to the 'morrow
(to the sunlight)
But Oh.. another day .... thrown away
another pain .... nothing changed
Monday 1st February 2021 1:51 am
And from there to there,
And finally to there.
Sunday 20th December 2020 1:07 am
Life is like the smallest flower
Stretching for some sun
When all the bigger ones devour
All it could become
Sunday 15th November 2020 1:30 pm
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
አሊያ ሕልሞች ከገቡ መቃብር፣
ሕይወትን ምን ለየው
ክንፏ እነዳለ ስብር!
አሊያ ያም ይሔም ሕልም ከሔደ
ሕይወትን ምን ለየው ከምድረበዳ
Thursday 5th December 2019 7:32 am
Forcing passers by
Curious for peep stand,
Swelling a throng
By every square
Or a roadside
Using his right leg
A nimble right hand
With the other holding
The artefact items hard
A hand-less man
Makes attractive tables
And cutting woods
The way the task demand,
A task ,many normal people
Imagine, to handle hard.
Those who appreciate
Wednesday 8th November 2017 7:09 am
Ode to the Dreamers
For us, are the highest mountains,
For us, are the deepest valleys,
For us, are the lush green pastures,
For us, is the evergreen spring,
For ours is a hunted breed
For ours is the troubled kind
For we live in the world, yet never with it
For we know of humanity, yet never of humans
For we live at the edge of oblivion
For we spread o...
Thursday 12th January 2017 4:58 pm
The violets speak softly to me,
They whisper to remember who came before,
The tiger-lilies interrogate me,
They say that spring pastures are no more,
The violet flowers inspire me to see my powers pure,
With the gifts that Venus pours my beauty will adorn,
The tiger-lilies scratch and chase me,
They say my will is cracked and torn,
Thursday 23rd June 2016 5:13 pm
"Like peeling an onion" you said.
Over punched pins,
Threading maydays into cloth.
Fingers fumbling at loose seams,
Moth eaten, scrapped themes.
Now, all I am is an empty spool,
Someone's discarded thimble.
Try the pattern again.
Friday 4th July 2014 1:13 pm
A narrative poetic thought.
Tuesday 18th June 2013 10:10 am
In the wild, the bonsai is an amazing sight and a moving lesson from nature. It depicts the wonder of a resilient soul.
A fond gaze
rests upon hope
of pliant supplication
stunted and weathered
each scar a witness
to fate's coarseness
its scourge did not prevail
A bent torso
flowing in the breeze
over sheer drops and crags
the dour might as old as time
Thursday 21st April 2011 12:07 pm