William Blake Beckett Poems

I see a tundra filled with sparkling white.
I squint my eyes at it's dazzling allure.
And I wonder if it would be alright
If I were to hope to see it once more.
...

Man in the sand
wearing a cloak
rags and scrap cloth
seethed as he choked
...

Birds of prey
But are stuck to the ground
Trying to fly
When there's no one around
...

Oh great-grandpa,
gone in a flash,
Survived three wars,
always under attack.
...

On a hillside in the North
a drummer boy marches
parading through flying lead
wading through marshes
...

100 children lie awake.
100 lashes left to take.
100 mouths still left to feed.
100 infants cry in need.
...

Remember me
But do not weep
As you approach
My own grave stone.
...

Is it a blessing,
To have nine lives?
Is it a blessing,
To Know no lies?
...