
The one that
Swore that you
Could not live
Without them,
Will always be
Mystified that
You didn’t die…
Especially, since they did all they could to kill you.
-JBHarris, April 2021
The one that
Swore that you
Could not live
Without them,
Will always be
Mystified that
You didn’t die…
Especially, since they did all they could to kill you.
-JBHarris, April 2021
There was a wise man
who said
I would rather be a warrior
in a garden
than a gardener in the war
when I was a young woman
a little little girl
we were taught
the nursery rhyme of
Mary Mary quite contrary
how does your garden
grow
well they don’t tell you
is that Mary had to be
contrary to make their garden grow
so well
she had a break up ground
she had identify
and dig out Weeds
And some thing
she had to let grow
together in opposition
before she ripped up
what might’ve been good
a woman’s heart is the same
to be contrary in order
to grow
nowI being a love poet
in the time of war
a warrior in a garden
whom is constantly
at war I put down
The ho to pick up
the sword on a daily basis
I wonder what seeds
can grow from the soil
as I go through the narrow
barefoot
hat down to keep
the sun out of my face
light colors to reflect
the heat of the sun
like my grandmother
and her grandmother
and her grandma
before her
knee deep in the dirt
and all the other ugly things
that the world has thrown
upon me and inside this garden
by which I now have control over
fencing put up
the scarecrow put up
to ward away all those
who wish to feast on
what I have put time
And love and blood into
then I see the tomatoes
come up
the hot peppers
Soon after
they change color
from green to red
and then I see
the roses that need
tending to the need
the most love and
I wonder if I have enough
in me to make them bloom again
-JBHarris, April 2022
Note: This piece will be in THE DEATH OF PETER PARKER & OTHER FAIRY TALES (August 2023).
In the myriad of hours
that I count since
counting you
as part of my hours
And days taking
your smile
your laugh
your joys
into all considerations
I wonder
is there ever truly room
for me in your hours
And days
to be counted
important among?
Counted enough
to be worthy
to be chosen.
From the pondering
I find myself wanting…again
-JBHarris, December 2021
I miss him so
Tough that sleep
Is the enemy.
-JBHarris, 4.2023
A crush can crush you,
so I’m feeling him
I’m feeling him like Christmas morning like when your edges lay just right like
the best shade of red lipstick to get peoples attention
and also to know
that you’ not playing… I’m feelin him
I’m feelin him and
how I watch him walk into a room and hush comes over it
I’m feelin’ him
like I want to get to know him with
all his clothes on first
I’m feelin’ him
like I could know him for ever,
and he already knew me forever
like time got our name on it
Like I’m feelin him
intrigue and inquiry and intelligence coursing all through me as
thoughts of him and I
and him and me
and this thing called us
And together… I’m feeling him
The butterflies in my belly
Find their way to my chest
So my heart remembers it
Can beat.
And with this becomes
a rhythm that my lips
find smile for
and hold to that same
3/4 time
I’m feeling him…
Damn.
I just might want him to be mine.
-JBHarris, 4.2.2023
For Me, Not Him
He said that
he loved me,
Completely.
Utterly.
Said I was in
His bones.
Maybe that was why he is gone.
-JBHarris, 1.2021
Do you know what it is
Like to hold
The ocean?
To be able to
House it
Summon both
Storm and
Calm—
only to be
Thwarted by
Those whom
Only have
Water glasses?
-JBHarris, December 2022
This piece will be in the work VENGENCE IS THE BODY (June 2023).
Vengeance is the body
not broken for you
not longing for you
pushed up
turned up
and pressed against somebody else
with somebody’s something
with legs that spread wide
Like the river that bares
The name of the land
Where queens come…
Tangled in passions
Like magnolia roots—
Revenge is the body
served up
Well loved
expertly laid
With back turned
into only formations
squids could make
Willing other fingertips,
To wipe your handprints
away and memory
becomes ecstasy as
your face is replaced
with his, because you said
as long as I had thighs like this—
I would always have somewhere to sit
Sending the chosen quaking
as body is weapon
weapon as body
and kill switches are activated
to make sure that
every piece of you that
was attached to me
can feel ecstasy
Boomerangs back
as you brush
your teeth in the morning
Let all pieces of you
be returned to me
and all pieces of me
be memory to you
I wish you know it well
because—
vengeance is the body
unbroken because of you
-JBHarris, August 2022
when they tell you
to write your bio,
tell them your pronouns
are try and me.
when they ask
your job description
your designation,
your pay rate
tell them you are
a troublemaker,
and you were
born to be a problem.
Show them your skin tone
the color of sun–
of the most excellent Earth,
by which your ancestors
were chained to,
brought from
you have every right
to exist
to challenge
to be
and be outspoken
even when your voice shakes.
be in the room
to bring others in
the room.
Let nothing be the same after us.
In this the holiest
of representation
of the I in us,
and we in them,
no, and we be the people
by which they represent.
We are going nowhere.
We are whom your ancestors
Warned about:
Melanin-wrapped memory.
Whom are called and unbowed
We are here and are coming.
There is no door locked us
because we will
bust out windows.
Change is here.
Let it continue with us.
-JBHarris, 4/7-2023
Written in response to the 2 Tennessee Representatives expelled from the Tennessee House of Representatives in April 2023. They were expelled because they were demanding gun reform. On 4/7, they were reinstated.
This piece will be included in The Death Of Peter Parker & Other Fairy Tales (August 2023).
The vows that I rehearsed
havecnow become elegy
Quiet and cold
rehearsed and practiced
over tombs
My eyes have
grown tired of crying
my heart has grown weary
of the king who will not come
for me
whom has crowned me
coordinated me
as exam
laid his mark and collar
Yet it will not consummate
this love will not allow
his pride to come for his bride
Does he not now I have waited?
And I am in quiet for him?
Growing gills to breathe water—
Only because he asked?
I am Persephone to his Hades
comfortable and dark
Needing new air
to return to the world
of light —
Yet new fruit to keep me
in his possession
disparaging the weather
the wisdom of my mother
who has given me only spring
knowing that winter
will always be at hand
because I must be with him.
My veil has now become a shroud
Chapel Now a seplechre
And now I am here sentenced
in the land of the Dead
looking for my way back….
wondering if Heaven will have me again
JBHarris, 7.2021