Poet, Author, Filmmaker, Philanthropist, Activist

Poet, Author, Filmmaker, Philanthropist, Activist

Poet, Author, Filmmaker, Philanthropist, ActivistPoet, Author, Filmmaker, Philanthropist, Activist

Latest Poems


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Recent Selections


The Struggle Continues

small Black town,
white police handlers –
open-air assassinations
the growing new standard...

Black President,
"post-racial" nation –
peaceful Black protestors,
martial intimidation...

gated communities wondering
"What's all the outrage for?"
we've already seen before:

Amadou, Sean Bell, Eric Garner, Ramarley,
the Danziger after Katrina, James Powell, Kimani,
Malcolm Ferguson, little Nick Heyward –
script’s always the same,
ending never changes...

Desperate calls for peace
amid martial law decrees –
while young Black lives are
devalued by degrees... 


© 2014 Marcus Harris


Déjà vu (For Syria)

babies gassed...for gas
refugees out, pipeline in
war machine rolls on

© 2017 Marcus Harris


Allow Me

Something about you…
a hint...a clue...

but it's not your eyes, your lips,
or the switch of your hips…

it’s dimensional,
an intentional
hidden secret
waiting to be uncovered,
inviting me to discover
the veiled wisdom beneath...

you see,
this is not about physical gain, bragging rights,
'cause when we finally do turn off the lights,
I'll listen to the words your wounded soul speaks
and wipe yesteryear's tears from your shaded cheeks...

your Nefertiti vibe
makes me wanna serve your tribe,
Queen Amina,
strength unseen,
slay my fears,
and at your behest,
make my doubts
your next conquest -

I request
to know what you truly believe,
whatever inspires you,
I require to
make my daily creed -

you see,
this is not about a quick hit, a cheap thrill,
your face is the wheel in the middle of the wheel,
the core, the essence,
the divine truth,
the stars on the fourth day,
the ultimate proof

that He reigns,
and His love, mercy, and grace
are ingrained
in the promise of your face –

in case
it's still not clear,
all you need to hear
is you're worth it,
so make me earn it,
'cause whoever wins your heart
must deserve it. 

© 2017 Marcus Harris

From #snapshot


If I Were A Poet

my grandma
used to talk about
when she met
my granddaddy -
what she said,
I forget,
but I'll always remember
the glow on her face when
she spoke...

I imagine
I looked the same
when you winked at me
in homeroom...

and if I were a poet,
I'd know just the words
to describe the feeling
your lips on mine
your fingers in my palm
maybe I could express
the way my heart
used to flutter
whenever I got a text from

I guess
I could also explain
how it felt
when I saw
at the mall with

© 2017 Marcus Harris


Brock Turner/Cory Batey

I see
wears a blindfold,
holds a balance and sword,
is supposed to judge everyone
the same -


I know
of light complexion
get acquitted by perception,
while those of darker shade lose that
rigged game. 

© 2017 Marcus Harris



We used to
reach for the stars,
now we just
reach for our phones,
so distracted,
so many reasons
to look down,
drifting, floating through
lured by
hypnotic flashes of
artificial light...

I first saw you,
I felt like an astronomer
who discovered some
brand new star –

truth is,
stars aren’t new,
they’ve been around for
millions of years,
their light always shining,
seen everywhere else in
the universe –

truth is,
they’re just
new to us,
to stop floating, drifting –

like you,
to look up again. 

© 2017 Marcus Harris