From Years Past
The Gift Of You
Let me pay the cost to earn
your heart,
don't give it to me freely from
the start,
through promises kept and
steadfast faith,
allow me to prove you're worth
the wait . . .
Let me be the stars that brighten
your path,
guiding you along as the
storm clouds pass
and the light of my devotion is all
that remains
as dark memories of your past loves
steadily fade . . .
Let me be the bloom for the seeds of
your faith,
the cherished reciprocity you've
forever craved,
after all your unrequited love
and strife,
pour into my cup all the gifts of
your life.
© 2020 Marcus Harris
Chainless Gangs (Black Codes Revisited)
wilderness trails cleared,
hand irons shift to handcuffs -
new roads to be paved . . .
© 2005 Marcus Harris
The Darkness
the smiles flowed,
then folded,
the laughter rolled,
then receded,
from morning stars
to
afternoon sky
to
evening earth
my view subsided,
curved inward,
and that's when
I found it,
the hollow place,
the hidden hole
where my wounds,
some self-inflicted,
still bled...
slowly,
I offered it to you...
you showed me yours...
and together,
somehow,
we drew light from
the darkness.
© 2017 Marcus Harris
From #snapshot
Astronomy
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
cyberspace,
lured by
hypnotic flashes of
artificial light...
When
I first saw you,
I felt like an astronomer
who discovered some
brand new star –
but
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,
reasons
to stop floating, drifting –
like you,
reasons
to look up again.
© 2017 Marcus Harris
Brock Turner/Cory Batey
I see
she
wears a blindfold,
holds a balance and sword,
is supposed to judge everyone
the same -
but
I know
those
of light complexion
get acquitted by perception,
while those of darker shade lose that
rigged game.
© 2017 Marcus Harris
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
of
your lips on mine
or
your fingers in my palm
and
maybe I could express
the way my heart
used to flutter
whenever I got a text from
you...
I guess
I could also explain
how it felt
when I saw
you
at the mall with
him...
© 2017 Marcus Harris