See some of my poetic pieces throughout the years below. I add new selections weekly, so make sure you come back and visit.
wilderness trails cleared,
hand irons shift to handcuffs –
new roads to be paved . . .
(© 2005 Marcus Harris, originally published in Songs In Search Of A Voice)
out of all the fingers that have coursed your thighs,
I wonder how many know
they’re not the first . . .
and
despite the princely promises from ample hungry eyes,
I wonder how many ever
quenched your thirst . . .
you see –
they say that life goes on
and we find reasons to be strong
each passing moment as we
overcome the past . . .
but the loneliness just won’t heal
from the emptiness that won’t yield
because of the phantom memories of
what we had . . .
see
we were more than just
Sunday walks in the park,
country rides after dark,
sprints through fields of lilacs
ours for the choosing . . .
yeah
we were more than just
quickies at noon,
picnics under the moon,
strip poker played
’til we both won by losing . . .
see
we were really
the taste of April dawn,
the first steps of a fawn,
the blossoming pitch of laughter
from newborn lungs . . .
yeah
we were really
the flame from Coltrane’s horn,
the flesh of a summer storm,
the incontrovertible reason
that God made song . . .
you see –
you know that every whole is more than
just the sum of its parts . . .
so
you know that real love is more than
just the bonding of two hearts . . .
but
since
you often whispered of the fullness
of our vows –
how can someone else
complete you now?
(© 2005 Marcus Harris, originally published in Songs In Search Of A Voice)
the empty stomachs,
the sleep-deprived eyes,
the attention spans drop,
the truancies rise,
the 30 bodies,
the 25 desks,
the furloughed engineer
needs a steady paycheck,
the wheelchairs, the helmets,
the learning disorder,
the cuts, the layoffs,
the treading shallow water,
the pens, the pencils,
the paper donated,
the broken chalk,
textbooks from 1980,
the underfunded schools,
the low performing students,
the funds and scores up
when low performers booted,
the lunchroom patrols, the badges,
the nightsticks,
the classroom trials,
the hallway convictions,
the 3 white officers,
the 1 black scream,
the chokeholds, the tackles,
the record at 13,
the whites with shotguns,
the blacks with nail clippers,
the zero tolerance policies,
the black suspensions triple,
the alternative warehouses,
the homebound vacations,
the “post-racial” paths,
the Jim Crow destination,
the slangin’, the grind,
the bangin’, the 9,
the parties, the panties,
the promise left behind,
the felonies, the warrants,
the 2nd class citizens,
the 25-to-life,
the swoll belly visitin’,
the strollers, the preschools,
the first bus rides,
the empty stomachs,
the sleep-deprived eyes…
(© 2017 Marcus Harris, originally published in #snapshot)
you breathe,
the air is sweeter
you stand,
the sky is bluer
you walk,
the ground is softer
you smile,
my chest is warmer
(© 2017 Marcus Harris, originally published in #snapshot)
© 2024 Marcus Harris. All Rights Reserved.
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