See some of my poetic pieces throughout the years below. I add new selections weekly, so make sure you come back and visit.
to tickle
with cherries,
to tease
with strawberries,
to swap
bated breath,
to knead
moist flesh,
to suckle
tender teats,
to bed –
no sheets . . .
to twist
on all fours,
to thrash
across floors,
to pierce
silent halls,
to thrust
against walls,
to wheeze
in climax,
to melt
like candle wax . . .
to clutch
weary thighs,
to kiss
closed eyes,
to whisper
in sin,
to exchange
smug grins,
to coo
like lovebirds,
to beg
for thirds . . .
(© 2005 Marcus Harris, originally published in Songs In Search Of A Voice)
Instant short-term loans,
four hundred percent interest –
instant servitude.
(© 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)
Jabari called it
the sun,
Braxton said it’s like
the moon -
they’re half-right…
Chloe’s smile
is
the glow of the morning star,
delicate,
timeless,
like a diamond…
Chloe’s smile
is
as strong as
the promises the sun streaks
across the sky,
decorating
the dark heavenly canvas
left empty as
the soft waning crescent
fades into
the shadows…
Chloe’s smile
is
not the similes, the metaphors,
it’s
not the parts -
it’s
the whole,
the quiet, powerful poetry of
the dawn.
(© 2017 Marcus Harris, originally published in #snapshot)
© 2025 Marcus Harris. All Rights Reserved.
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