A Lingering Pause

I recently wrote this poem. It reflects the miserable feeling of being stuck. I hope you will enjoy it.

A Lingering Pause

By: J Philip Harris

I linger in the afternoon, the afternoon that lingers

Empty on the makers loom, tangled by the stringer

My body drags the aged floor alone and out of breath

Sleeping in the secret curve, estranged and scared to death

 

I linger in the bygone years, the bygone years that linger

They fool me, so I stay awhile enamored by the memories

My heart is nailed to dogwood limbs, deserted in the sterile range

Banished from the brotherhood, eaten by the mange

 

I linger in the open wound, the open wound that lingers

And slip the silence on my hands; No, slip it on my fingers

Like bells of heat reminding me that trouble’s ever at my door

To touch a wretched criminal completely at his core

 

I linger in the midnight hour, the midnight hour that lingers

I reach to pull its blanket down but quickly break my fingers

 

I’m tired of the Lingering, the emptying, the fingering

I’m tired of the empty fields leading up to harvest

I’m tired of the fire trail blazing through my forest

 

Rest to want

Rest to have

Rest to keep from pausing

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Deep Water Love Letter

It’s been a really long time since we have posted a blog. Things have been really crazy since we graduated college. We have been diligently seeking God’s will for our life and what direction we should head in. During this period I have compiled most of my poetry and had it copyrighted. I have always wanted to publish my works, but have never gotten the courage to take the first leap. I guess this is my attempt to do so. I have always passionately enjoyed writing poetry; words have always salved my troubled soul. As I do have many poems, I will be posting one every week for the continuous future. I hope that, maybe, you might connect with one of them. Please feel free to ask any questions and give any type of feed back, both negative or positive. I am an open book, as you will see in my poems. Books often beg for questions since they are intended to be read. So, I hope you will read my soul and question it.

This first poem is close to my heart. It is my magna vocatio. I hope you enjoy.

 

Deep Water Love Letter

By: J. Philip Harris

 

Deep water love letter

Read from in the chaos room.

Written for the waning heart

Where darkness seems to loom.

Chasms high where devils low

Reaching through the naked show.

Great big lover’s hands

Resting on my shoulder frail.

Living on the bitter bread

That’s long been gone stale.

Frightened little dirty child

Forgotten by the earth.

Abandoned by the frightened one

Who only gave you birth.

Come in, Come down

And take me by the hand.

I can be your Father.

I can be your Friend.

I can be the safest place

You’ll ever need to land.

Deep water love letter

Etched upon my heart.

Here I am, here to stay

Never will I part.