Tag Archives: Brent Harris
Myths and Stories
All our myths and stories Have roots deep in time Not all truth and glories Buds, weeds to sun climb
Remember Not
I remember When young One time When I lived In the moment Though not the moment The time itself Nor do I recollect The now When I became Self-reflected Imputing moments With meaning Without presence Revealing that In this world, now Communication requires Us to give up Our being, connection With our self Too great […]
From My Core
I once told people I had a dream But all I did was wish and scheme I did not get where I wanted to go Or figure out what I did not know When I dreamed, worked as well Soon on my dreams I didn’t dwell Knew what I hadn’t known before Share what life […]
May Well Find
If you can think You may well find Nothing on your mind Cannot stitch together Two thoughts equal aught You’d better take a sweater
Isn’t That Odd?
How then may I write? How can I stop Made for this time, now and none other To sharpen my razor on a broken strop World deep enough in drek to smother People who lead lie, serve their agenda Believe in their scriptures, not their god No choice, no one real, each a pretender Laws […]
An Immodest Proposal
Sadly, this will be the second time I will have posted this piece on this date, the third anniversary of the Newtown murders (the first to fall on a school day). Because many tragic deaths continue to occur, I have vowed to mark this tragic date, in this manner, until such time as we come […]
Till Such Time
Fabled treasures are the purview of men Hearth, home, filling the hope of women Been told, but doesn’t mean it’s true then We heard this meme over and over again Terrified men work to return olden days After, oh so slowly, we changed our ways Realigned our shoulds, oughts and mays Until the time we […]
One-eyed Man
We are conditioned, convinced when we are but babes in arms Depends on the teacher to determine whether this helps, harms Despite where we live, we are persuaded to think as we are told In America, the United States of, we’re pressed into their mold Molded thus, in childhood, know we’ll have any life we […]
On the Town
Could it be I stop for coffee in the morning That it’s little to do with imbibing caffeine Could it be I am engaged in my sojourning Simply so I may see and by others be seen
What Time? What Hope?
Being greedy In small steps Grabbing what What you want As though It’s yours By right Or rite Casting bones Waving feathers Odds and ends Imbued with power At midnight Any hour Darkness hides Our fright Our trepidation Nervous laughter Hoping, hoping Longing to know The secret Wrest the prize The surprise You know Has […]
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