Biography
I began writing at the age of 25 as a way of recording and making sense of the world. Most of my poetry is reflective and confessional. My influences include Dorothy Parker, Maya Angelou, Sylvia Plath, Julia Copus, Carol Ann Duffy to name but a few. I've been published in 'Dazzled by the Moon' and 'A passion for Poetry' two anthologies. I recieved a special commendation for my poem 'Angel' in the HASSRA national annual competition. I was part of 24 hour Arty people and we performed live readings and published our work. I have also facilitated poetry workshops and projects in the community for projects such as womens week . I'm based in Bolton and my interests include photography and art. I also photograph weddings occasionally and also portraits.
Samples
She's in the Sea Again
...........................................
She’s in the sea again,
She’s got her sundress on,
Striding through the dark waves.
Silhouetted by the moonlight.
He’s calling her name again and again,
louder and louder,
and only the rocks can answer.
His voice echoes off them,
he stumbles.
She watches him.
Her eyes are sea shells,
her dress is made of sea horses,
she’s oblivious to his shouting and ignores him,
watches as he staggers back,
giving up the search so easily.
She dances with the waves,
free for a while,
Her dress blowing in the wind,
She’s in the sea again.
The Moon Watches
.........................................
I want you and you are not here.
I pause,
the water trickling between my fingers.
Dishes left uncared for.
I picture you stood here.
Grasp onto your memory, before it too seeps away.
You’re smiling again.
fixing me with the look you always do.
The one that says I am wrong,
that I should carry on.
The moon watches us together,
dancing on the dusty floor.
The colour of our memory everywhere.
It’s light photographs us.
Always together,
always apart.
Entwined
....................
Entwined,
Forever,
Limb around limb,
Clasped in embrace,
Captured in stained glass,
Purple and blue,
Hues of love,
and lust.
Secret sighs’
Etched by a palette of watercolours,.
Now all can see,
In the windows above.
Your face hidden from view.
Tucked into your lovers nest
Of half truths and half remembered lies,
Soft daylight caresses your skin and his
and you awake caught by the dawn.
Hushed whispers,
Of hurried words and gentle sighs.
Some love is secret,
But pure,
Not bound with tape
Vows or papers.
It’s fragmented and rare,
Like the dawn light,
Exposing the beauty of skin upon skin,
Mouth upon mouth,
Seeking salvation,
In sweet folds of time.
Angel
..........................
The firework heavens,
open their skies.
Snow falling on leaves,
echoes a sweet melody.
The beat of a wing is heard,
through the twilight hours of days.
An angel flies,
through the December air,
embracing the rhythm of notes.
Ice melts with the slowing down of time,
yesterdays lost in a haze of life.
The stars are smiling at me tonight.
God takes away,
who he loved the most,
leaves behind a hole to fill.
Candles burn in churches still.
Icicles form in the dead of night.
The beat of a wing is heard.
Little Ghost
-------------------------
In memory of Edith Piaf
Bundles of joy escape me,
I hear you cry out in the darkness,
My dreams are tied up in knots.
Sometimes I hear the tread of your feet,
See your shoelaces trailing on the ground.
Grazed knees from playground troubles.
The wind is cold.
I hear thunder tonight.
In the morning all will be calm.
The sun will come again and the clouds will lift.
But tonight I sing a lullabye, to my little
ghost in the sky.
Nicola Beckett 2010
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Last blog entry
Posted on Tuesday 2nd February 2010 8:05 pm
It should be snowing by now but it isn't.
Gazing through the window,
I trace the outline of your silhouette with my finger
on the glass pane.
I watch you and you are unaware of my gaze.
My nail scratches the surface.
Like our conversations.
Heavy with the unsaid.
Our lives are entwined.
Like the branches of the tree.
Yet sometimes.
You speak to me with a strangers voice
and I look at you and don't recognise your face.
Words stick in my chest,
heavy on my heart they lie.
You stop, sensing my presence.
Look up and smile, wave.
The sky still heavy is waiting for snow.
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View or make comments. (6 comments)
Anthony Hayward
Sun 7th Mar 2010 23:22
Great stuff ... Thanks for sharing.
Cordially
Anthony