Biography of Joshua Beckman
Joshua Beckman is an American poet.
He was born in New Haven, Connecticut. He graduated from Hampshire College.
He is the author of six collections of poetry, including Take It, Shake, and Things Are Happening, which won the first annual Honickman-APR book award. He is also the author of two collaborations with New York–based poet Matthew Rohrer, including Nice Hat. Thanks. During his residency at Women's Studio Workshop, in 1997 he published There Is an Ocean, a combination of six prose poem/narratives about young men’s encounters with bodies of water, portraying the tension inherent in youth (especially among young gay men). He is an editor at Wave Books and has translated numerous works of poetry and prose, including Poker by Tomaž Šalamun, which was a finalist for the PEN America Poetry in Translation Award, as well as multiple co-translations with Alejandro de Acosta.
He is also the recipient of numerous other awards, including a NYFA fellowship and a Pushcart Prize. He lives in Seattle and New York. A graduate of Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts, Beckman was the editor of the short-lived literary magazine, Object Lesson, which served as inspiration for subsequent literary and artistic publishing ventures.
Joshua Beckman Poems
Leave New York
Leave New York or the poem will kill you Langston Hughes wrote $ $ $ to be black and $ $ $ so, soaking soaking 'Sapwood posts are a little bit cheaper'...
Oh, atlas look you forgot my island.
Seagulls beside ferry boat
Seagulls beside ferry boat. They're people-watching.
They'll spend the summer
They'll spend the summer crushing the garden— a steam let off slowly.
Untitled Poem [Unslide the door]
Unslide the door, uncap the lazy little coffee cup. The pasty people must be part of the dinner. And a city turns its incapacity in,
The going. The letters. The staying.
The going. The letters. The staying. The life of the little boy. The staying and the life of the little boy. The letter. The mushrooms. Dear Mom,
[In Colorado, In Oregon, upon]
In Colorado, In Oregon, upon each beloved fork, a birthday is celebrated. I miss each and every one of my friends. I believe in getting something for nothing.
[I'm not with my]
I'm not with my blue toes or my doggies nor am I under any arched roof rotting blossoms in my drain, sunlight pouncing upon me, nor am I fixed like a tree, nor am I unfixed
Silver streamers dazzling winter
I let my body down slow which is what they say to do, like a whale with its breathing and floating in the ocean.
[Ocean which I pushed up]
Ocean which I pushed up with my fingers so I could touch the orange sand below
[Lying in bed I think about you]
Lying in bed I think about you, your ugly empty airless apartment and your eyes. It's noon, and tired I look into the rest of the awake day
[It was as if her love had become]
It was as if her love had become a big eye or some historical logic or a religious particle lodged in the brain. In the most costly services of a great society
[Dear Angry Mob,]
Dear Angry Mob, Oak Wood Trail is closed to you. We feel it unnecessary to defend our position, for we have always thought of ourselves
[Dark mornings shown thy mask]
Dark mornings shown thy mask made well thy visage and voice rolling over and hearing some perfect sweetness that one broad soul poured forth