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The Web Poetry Corner

David Harris

of

Washington, DC, US

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Urban Summer Scene

by

David Harris

This is no favorite summer memory

I spend one night seeking forbidden magic
in a dim room above the Florida Avenue Grill;
the humid air is like a fist,
assaulting the skin
outside, boomboxes patrol the night
drowning the city's
cries and sirens
in their ferocious din

Stone-eyed addicts, slick with sweat,
roam the corners searching for a score
I wait, with the cold-faced woman
who lured me here,
for something sweet from the corner boys

A thick night breeze ruffles the only window's
scanty curtains;
it is just a tease-
an empty promise of relief

Like this woman who brought me here-
I am here only because of the way
a fragile summer dress clings to her hips
I am not in my comfortable suburban
air-conditioned home;
there is no excitement there

A corner boy softly raps on the door;
my eyes follow her slenderness across the room
my heart leaps with hope
and the promise of summer fireworks


Quest

by

David Harris

You sent me on this journey
where all I see is the road
and the sand, busily shifting in the wind,
around my face and invading my eyes and ears and nose
and the sun,
a cruel relentless hand
pressing me into the ground

You taught me to imagine,
at the end of your road
a private Eden filled with shady trees
thick and dripping with luscious fruit,
strange bird and beasts
waiting for me to give them names.
Those, and shimmering pools of silence
for me to bathe in
so I can escape that sun

That sun, now threatening to crush me
beneath its endless weight,
an angry sun
promising to drown me
in my own sweat
as I trudge along your road

Your road
leading me, you promised,
to where I can sleep on a bed of silk
and not among the thorns and nettles I've known,
where I can shower in cool cascades of mist
and I can touch the rainbows
before my face

Here, there are no rainbows,
only sand and tumbleweeds
and that relentless sun
that lies between me
and the promises
that lie at the end of your road


Soul Dimiuendo

by

David Harris

A mood can be as dangerous
as wind or rain or lightning

At times my light looks dim
like a distant star drowned in the dawn
I have sought the brightness
in sources false and true
I have sought brightness
in places where dark means death

My mind dangerously wanders
toward memories of castles made of clouds
where I am king and nimble servants
await my every wish
and when the clouds disperse
I found God's own dungeon;
those servants fade away like dreams
and leave me alone with the pain
of empty regret

my mind secretly wanders
toward those who she forgives all sins
and plants an infinite kiss upon me
to ease the pain
of remorse and regret;
I recall the days when she is parent,
I am child,
and even in my endless shame
I retreat into her arms

My mind wanders
toward a world lush, green, inviting
and a hundred feet below me,
and I send a message
to all who've shown me love-
don't think I've forgot the charms
of that seductive darkness

There are moods as dangerous
as hurricanes and earthquakes
that happen quietly within a soul;
there is rejoicing
when clouds disperse
and patches of
clear blue appear
but when the wrong chord is struck
storms lurk
beyond the horizon