Biography of Lawrence Beck
My advice to anyone reading one of my poems: read it so quickly as you can the first time through. Since I write in a rush, my melody will become most evident if you read in a rush.
I have a web site, www.lawrencebeck.net, which contains more of my recent poems than the 50 I leave up here. I refresh this site every other month.
Alas, I must add this: if you write to me asking me to read your poems, I may, but I will not comment on them. I am very sick of numbers hogs who troll through a day's list of contributing poets, and ask each one to read his or her poem. If you write well, someone may notice and comment. If you browbeat people into reading your poetry, the comments you receive are worth nothing.
Lawrence Beck's Works:
- Under The Knife -new-
- El Hombre De El Norte -new-
- Sunset -new-
- Three Guys In A Bar -new-
- Closing Time -new-
- Examining The Wreckage -new-
- Godzilla -new-
- Two Views Of A Departure -new-
- Such A Scrawny Thing -new-
- Bell And Whistle -new-
- A Declaration Followed By Awkward Silenc...
- Alexander The Great
- Palm Trees And Ivs
Lawrence Beck Poems
Twilights come, the earth's and mine, The ancient planet creaking on its axis, Moving toward the night, the man, A minor perturbation, slumps upon
How It Is
She's asleep. That's how it is: The sex, the sleep, not much Between, but I'm peculiarly Awake. I look at her, at peace
A Grainy Photograph Of A Side Of Beef On...
I've had this rotten sinus headache Since I left Australia. Maybe I just Don't like it here.
The Regenerated Limb Always Is Smaller
She's back. I haven't asked her why. I haven't asked her anything. She Is and isn't who I knew. She looks The same objectively, and, thus,
The Unsent Gift
I saw an opal pendant in Australia, And I thought, for just a moment, That I ought to buy it, put it in an Unmarked box, and have it sent
One day, I'd like to set off with a camera To photograph some of the places I've gone: Bellevue, Naperville, Scottsdale, Aurora, Here in west Omaha, places where houses
Stasis simply isn't, is it? Nothing can be Kept the same, and, thus, though I'd Have been, if not content, resigned To go on creeping up to you three
He's seen them on TV, out in the ocean, These giant whales, rising up suddenly, Leaving the water to float in the air. It seems doubtful that there's a reason
Satisfaction (had I any) isn't much to write about. A coolly pleasant August morning, coffee, Money, home from work to wander, lightly Obligated, through the house and out into
A Lovely Summer Day
I know that everything is fine. I know it In my mind, as if a parent with a pointed Finger came to me and told me so. I see a sky with dumpling clouds.
Rub' Al Khali
I suppose she'd be relieved to learn That her name pops up now without An image tied to it. It's just a label For a void, like interstellar space,
Don't Get Up
Oh, stay late with me this time, Kate. I, too, must be at work at dawn. Stay And go to work from here. No one Who cares will ever know. The street
My One And Only
My love, of course, has gone away. It's been So long that I have ceased to see her absence As a loss. My friends remain. I'm glad they Do, yet you know how it is with them.
Mrs. Laughlin! What a treat! Has it been Two dozen years since we sat on this very Curb, and smoked and talked throughout The night, two adults like high-school kids,
The Unsent Gift
I saw an opal pendant in Australia,
And I thought, for just a moment,
That I ought to buy it, put it in an
Unmarked box, and have it sent
To you. I do not hope to win you
Back. I'm not sure I still love you
Anymore. So many months have
Passed. I'm still annoyed that you
Betrayed me. Anyway, the pendant