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Best Poems Written by Harper Darnell

Below are the all-time best Harper Darnell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Its Only My Neighbor

I hear two raps on my door and  fear awakens me like my little brother did when our house caught fire on 14th street,I sit straight up expecting to smell smoke,its only my neighbor bringing me tomatoes from her husbands garden,I smile,say thank you,and drop a zanex.

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The Lady At the Bus Stop

she screams obscenities at the shadows that dance in her head,while the tone of midnight whisper the lyrics of dead poets in her ear.She knows she's alive because sweat covers her body like a misty autumn rain and she is chilled.She awakens,morning beckons her like a bad hangover,she is trapped in madness and desires the interlude of a life undisturbed.

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The Sons of Other Men

Oil, profit, blood, expendable are the sons of other men.

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Stoned Wall

A stoned wall I pretend to be,but am just a broken fence in reality.

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As a Child I Grieve

Softly,silently as a child I grieve,for the touch of my beloved unrequited love, for the laughter of my children distant,for when nights are ambushed by the coldness of quiet rooms,when the estasy of every memory inquires of my loneliness,when the absence of touch chills me to the bone,when there is no pillow to rest my sorrows upon,when mornings arise and I find my arms around a stranger,I softly,silently grieve as if a child.

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Let's Celebrate

yesterday was last year,today clay promises lay broken upon the party floor,we awaken hungover to death crying as liquor induced wishes help us cope with this new year,are we mad dogs chasing our own tales?while San bernardino cries and Paris weeps.

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The Girl I Met Briefly Today

Dark early due to a winters rising,I sing of falls
passing with a violent vibrabto,I pass my time chained to my thoughts,I dream of places I've been before a northern passage with golden fields its always fall in my head yet winter is alive and my dark skin is chilled,I sit with a poets pen and a writers prose and watch the winter moon through my window and write nothing, i hear the murmuring of my kitchen clock it reminds me that i have no place to go I'm alone and wish I could share my wine with the girl I met briefly today,I will drink alone and wonder of my next hours.

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In Our Quiet Room

In our quiet room I think of your body which is between summer and spring,my body which is between autumn and winter yearns, I lay my lips upon your back,your body is soft as a fall morning....my lips discover your inner rooms.

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A Soft Morning

Beautiful she lays naked ,her body still....a soft morning

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As Grief Plays

When I buried My Father I laid tears 
upon the breast of my lover,as grief played its tune.