The sadness,
Of never being able to see,
The rainbow hues of the world,
Like a lock to a key,
Are the couleurs to the world,
And seeing someone's face light up with joy,
Of only being able to feel,
Not see an awesome toy,
My dear friend Harlan,
I'm sorry for the eyes you can't view the world with.
Categories:
harlan, senses,
Form: Free verse
AUNT SARA CATHERINE
Each Southern breakfast in your kitchen
smelled of fried apples, cornbread,
and country biscuits
with all the fixings.
Your grown sons came over every day
to eat at your table come what may.
Nobody could cook as good as you.
I like to imagine you started cooking
when you were two.
You were warm, loving and very giving;
nothing too difficult for you,
working or sitting.
But you wrote none of your recipes down.
When you died, God took your cooking far away
from everyone in Harlan town.
Now your recipes are hidden
somewhere beyond the sky,
but in order to receive them
I too will one day have to die.
Janet Marie Bingham
Categories:
harlan, blessing, care, confidence, devotion,
Form: Rhyme
The healing hands of time
Can't mend it.... when it's in the blood
The morning sun can't kiss away the rain
When there's been a flood
Destiny has dealt me.....
Another losing hand...
'Looks like this homeless heart
Is on it's own again
I can crawl down in the bottle
But, the tears always wash me out
I can step out of the shadows
'Still I can't shake these endless doubts
'Walking through the tunnel
Reaching for the light
Wondering every morning
Will I make another night
Searching for a shelter
A little cover from the pain
When you're running...helter skelter
Life is so against the grain
If I could only find...
Sweet yesterday....when I held her
I'm so out of place.....
Searching For A Shelter
Protected by copyright
Colab. with Harlan Howard
Categories:
harlan, anger, blue, cry, grief,
Form: Lyric
It courses through the blood
hidden from view it seeks out
the T-cells attaching itself
it silently goes to work
Invading and taking over
not caring if it's host
be a young person or old
killing of the white cells
Your gender it cares nothing for
or if you are straight or gay
insidiously it can hide for years
a master of disguise it patiently waits
Growing stronger all the time
breaking down the body's defences
it corrupts turning cells alien
not caring that as it slowly kills
That eventually it will too die
that as it completes its invasion
leaving a sick body open to attack
covered with open sores and abrasions
This silent killer in murdering you
does itself meet its own doom
dying along with its host
will we ever find a real cure?
This is about Aids/ HIV though it could also refer to cancer HIV is ingenious in
its ability to hide itself inspires by Harlan Coben's book Miracle cure
Categories:
harlan, death, murder,
Form: Free verse