Added 2/5/2010
The Poetry Of Tim Harris
Let's balance the ugly with the beautiful.
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19 Poems By Tim Harris


Read Up Then To View A Tim Harris Photography Slide Show Click Here-  http://www.photoworks.com/slideshow/album/ADCC89321069?source=pw980
Good To Be A River

The water said to the rock, You're so lucky to be so firm and solid

You're so permanent and durable
 
The rock said to the water, You are the lucky one you flow everywhere

 
You get to be in the sky, in the mountains, in the forests, in the oceans, and in the river with me

 
The water said to the rock but sometimes I wish I could be anchored like you

 
And the rock said and sometimes I wish I could be taken to a new place everyday like you are

 
I am stable, strong and always here to share my strength

 
Your strength is in your motion and together we make this river

 
And the water said, I carry countless tears, make green things grow

 
and knowing you're always there gives me the strength to do so

 
Yes, it's good to be a river

 

And the rock said, Yes, it's good to be a river



The Torch

Share what you can when you can
Cast seeds when you find the soil
and repeat what happened the day time began
Sing your song be it loaded or long
It's the carriage to the next front porch the torch
till the next dawn


Your Heart Falls
 
Your heart falls with the first drop of morning dew
off a rose pedal carrying reflections of yellow, orange, and reds
carrying venerable and strong colors
hitting the ground
time passes

Your spirit rises within the morning mountain mist
carrying within the songs of birds
and the scents of lush green plants
together lifting upward
all dissolve into each other as the sun burns through
all breathing throughout the day
becoming the wind to dance in till the calm of sundown
with radiant colors applauding all

 
Angels Kissing

 
As a little girl she made Snapdragon flowers roar
 
Saw clouds changing into animals
 
Believed thunder and lightning was caused by angles kissing
 
Carefully touched the magic dust on butterfly wings
 
Tonight the magic dust is beginning to cast it's spell
 
As her nipple grows between the lips of her new lover
 
And wings of passion stretch into it's commanding shape
 
Her fingers in his hair as they have each other completely
 
Pleasure without mercy, flames of colors never seen before
 
Drowning into the flames
 
Sparks of sweat showering their thirst
 
As they quake though time and space
 
And land into each others arms
 
Breathing each others breath
 
Never have two hearts pounded harder or more still


No Buddha Buts About It

Play the cards dealt

Never ignoring heart felt

The rabbit disappears down his rabbit hole

Some follow some see nothing at all

Winds ascend the view

Scents and songs transformations due


Storm In Your Tea Cup
 
Lightning can strike suddenly
 
You find a storm in your tea cup
 
Sweet turns sour
 
The rain is too cold too hard
 
Water making music
 
The music will change it's tune
 
Skies will clear
 
Peace will come again
 
The lighting wasn't a direct hit
 
Only close enough to throw you
 
Fresh tea in a stronger cup


New Beginnings


build strength to work magic
change the picture to brilliant from tragic
only limits are those you state
it's your time feel it's fate

a warrior of peace
brilliant light to release
draw from its wealth
the wingspan the stealth

that hard road was a gift
every step had its purpose
tomorrow's load a one hand lift

it was what it was
free from the maze
this is now that was then
close eyes to gaze
every soul a friend



All Real Summer's Night

 
summer's night crickets far off playing a serenade
 
low in the sky the crescent moon's light painting shadows
 
spot lighting the trees, rocks, your face and a dream
 
the ocean air flavors the breeze
 
one foot in the heavens, one foot on the ground
 
these seasonings spicing the spirit
 
sweet as cider your lips feed the fires of all the stars
 
the beauty of your breasts raise the tide again and again
 
one foot in a dream, and one foot in the wind
 
the long awaited union
 
time slowing to a stop, gravity losing it's hold
 
becoming the cricket's song, the moon's light, the sea's air
 
fading into a subtlety sharply profound
 
a bird flies overhead and cries witness
 
joyfully confirming it's all real


Details Of The Big Picture
 
Crisp night air purges the day's smog
 
Hungry to renew to a golden field
 
Exhaling misguided notions that can fill a valley
 
The stars will vanish with the sunrise
 
Swimming upstream to return to a place of clean water


Open Mic


show time at eight
sign up 7:30
don't be shocked
someone's bound to talk dirty

from a blank piece of paper mysteries come un-woven
bearing the soul the night has been chosen
who will be the jaw dropper
a new voice or familiar face the next show stopper

come a few times
gain more than rhyme
new highs
new lows
new eyes

words becoming geometric shapes
words painting vivid heart aches
stepping stones making mosaics

there is a rabbit hole in Sleepy Hollow
five-minute limit to follow
it's on a grade
it twists and turns
wax and wanes

the entrance is in twilight
the exit delivers you in moonlight
every sunrise will burn with new insight


 
 
Just Three Words

 
Haunted by yesterday
 
Eyes spinning fast
 
Tired of thought
 
Hell with abstract
 
Finished with metaphor
 
To be literal
 
Grow the garden
 
Eat your meal
 
Sleep all night
 
Find an adventure
 
Awake all day


 
The Call Of Spring
 
Feel that breeze
Hear that bird
See that light on the trees
Take it in
Taste the breeze
Smell the bird's song
Feel the light on the trees
Take it in
Let it spiral
A vortex filling your chest
Share your laughter
Nourishment of the soul
Your soul nourishing the world


A Place
 
There's a place where science ends
and philosophy begins
and poetry is present
and all truths lay within an embrace and a kiss.


The Stone Wall

 
A stone wall lays still in the woods
The summer warmth grows the moss
It's builders and purpose are long gone
and forgotten by all but the wall

A man walking through the woods through his soul
came across the wall
Stopping to rest and reflect he sees the wall as a reflection
The harmony of the woods makes it easier to face his realities

Believing unlike the wall his stones never had a purpose
The man vows to dismantle his tons of rock
Or just let the earth swallow them up

He thanks the wall for the insight and continues on his path
The wall sees another creature come and go
Evening will slowly fall
And another season will quickly call


Late February

The soul's hunger makes the eyes strain
looking for a new plane, feet in frozen mud, hoping for spring
is history repeating with every soul at every moment
seeds and flowers without soil and sky
ready to take root in a place sometimes felt
pearls deep and elusive
holding my breath with every dive

The Church Of Frankenstein: Fire Good!

Hot coals, crackling logs, tall bright flames, intoxicating smoke, dancing sparks

As like many faces of a single life
As like the few generations enjoying the fire together
As like the range we are to be within our hearts
As like seed, soil, sun, wind, rain, time to make the wood to make the fire
As like the awareness, gratitude, blindness, renew
As like poems of prophets
As like a time of peace

The Church Of Frankenstein: Fire Good!



White Tails

put aside the doubt
you have to just trust
when I say I know the way out

rabbits and deer have white tails so their pals can follow
a morning can be near void of bitterness to swallow
pack a meal and water
hightailing it to the border

if you could stand where I am
you'd say the same for he
if I you and you me

 
Hear the rhythm, See the colors

Sort out my soul
A worthy goal
Seeing art in the cracks
In the world as a whole
Appreciation, gratitude, rage
Every day a new page
Monday a laser
Tuesday a haze
High in an oak
A well delivered new joke
Sailing on a broad reach
A lesson learned
A lesson to teach
The art of living
Challenge of forgiving
My boomerang as it flies
My rope spinning
Watching with mind not eyes
My unicycle spins
Along with the earth
All counter clockwise
All moving forward
Hear the rhythm in my photos
See the colors in my words


The Yoga Practice


When the student is ready
the teacher will appear 
not far off
but near
the teacher within
when found you begin
returning to the place you savor in
stretching to sky
sweet as pie
stillness bright as gold
breath deep as sea
troubles on hold
it's too much of a fee
down to the earth
reaching
feeling a rebirth
no room for sorrow
only the heartbeat to follow
the practice is mine
free to fly
making music in time

To View The Tim Harris Famous Photography Slide Show Click Here-  http://www.photoworks.com/slideshow/album/ADCC89321069?source=pw980
 
Send any comments to timgoes@aol.com Thank you, Tim

Copyright 2007-2010 Tim Harris. All Rights Reserved.
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