Poetry by Farah Lawal Harris

Posts tagged “sky

December Showers


even though it’s cold outside,
i crave spring-time love.
not out of necessity,
but the pure, simple complexity:
energy rushing through the beats in my chest
and spreading to an extra sway in my hips
and curve in my smile
and spark in my eye.
even though my skin is now dry,
i feel like sticky pre-summer nights that never end,
where the sky stays the same foggy blue for hours
and midnight conversations buzz
and enlighten in my ears
like fireflies.

i wish it could be spring all year…
the beginning of flings and i don’t even care
if they disappear by Labor Day.
but i guess if it weren’t for barren winters
and handsome smiles without words to follow
and today communication that results in
uninterested tomorrows,
i wouldn’t care about the weather.

i want to be seasoned with rain that’s fun to run through
and kisses of potential and hands held for first times
and dances without music.
i’m counting down months until my next season change
and hoping it comes sooner
than when the weather man claims
cuz it might be winter outside of my window
but it can still be warm in my heart.
wind can chill me in climates where i have to wear my coat
but sunshine can fill my throat
and sing the most beautiful songs
(even if they are off-key).

i feel like a spring-time love,
not out of necessity but pure luxury,
boredom, entitlement, fulfillment
and simplicity.
energy rush through me
and change this weather like fall leaves
and leave me satisfied
as summer tip-toes with holes in her socks while
temperatures are increasing
so that like a bear hibernating,
i would have stocked up on enough love
to carry me over to days when the sun
stays up late because even she can’t resist the temptation
of the rush that comes
from spring.


Walking on Clouds


i’m walking on clouds
and negative people on the ground
try to pull me down.
but my soles are of a different kind
so i step past cumulonimbus grass
that feels soft when i lay on my back
and walk back and forth on the tree stumps
of heads of those who are trying so hard
to rain on my parade.
i suppose that they
are not aware that i live
in the uppermost part of the sky,
so precipitation is only a serenade
that leads me to dance a dance of pride
that seeps out of my pores, spilling outside
on my dark skin as affirmation
that something deeper will begin.
a height of happiness
that i thought i’d need an airplane to see
is now the route right in front of me
and i am climbing,
excelling past those who want to stay down low
and make accusations that have no clout
and sit there and pout
as the smiling world changes around them.
be careful because the earth is spinning
and if you don’t move your feet,
you will fall off, never to be seen.
look in the mirror then look around you.
see that times are changing and so should you.
remove the crazy glue from off the bottom of your shoes
and step toward something new.


Incognito


at night, i feel hesitant
about the confines
of tomorrow’s business suit.
i’d rather be barefoot
or better yet swimming,
traveling laps as i count
the waves of the sea.
but we don’t always get what we want,
do we?
my pinstripes are jail stripes
and i wish to break free
but it’s hard to wave goodbye to benefits
with today’s economy.
so to my cubicle cell i report early in the morning,
knowing that the stars will soon come
and i will join my nebulous family
in the galaxy–
we will soar past impossibility,
bursting in the heavenly skies to be seen
by everybody.
right now i am discrete
as to not alert those around
that they have a comet in their midst.
i keep a low profile, smiling politely
all the while knowing that when evening comes
i might be flying…
in my dreams i am climbing,
eyes closed because even i
am not yet adjusted to the shining.
i am stepping on the footstools of regularity,
grabbing onto the rope of extraordinary,
making my home high up in the atmosphere
and saying goodbye to everything
that rests here.


How High


on the train,
i glide past tree tops at eye level
and wonder if this
is the highest i’ll ever soar.
i always imagined myself closer to the sun
so that my rich hershey kiss skin
could toast like almonds
while still remaining sweet;
so for once i could feel the air
and rest my tired feet.

in my head when i lay down for bed,
my pillows transform into clouds
as i float away for hours
that only last for minutes.
i wake up with the desire to travel again,
rub my eyes and hope i’ll see the sky
surrounding me for more than
fleeting moments in window seats of trains,
looking out at tree tops
hoping that my time in the air
will be higher up in the atmosphere
and that it will stretch for longer
than a few train stops.

i want to float all around,
not just between here and there,
spending too much time underground
so my eyes sting from simple things
like the sun when skies are clear.
the green leaves seem too bright
because my eyes have gotten used to night.
i want white, yellow, orange and blue
to be comforting for my eyes to see
i want to talk to eagles when they land
and ask them if they remember me
and when they reply “yes,”
i want them to beg me to fly once more,
to join them in a place
where i don’t have to be confined
by doors.

it’s hard to ignore
while i sit looking out of the window,
observing the world around me
that i am bigger than
all of the trees that surround me,
taller than everything
that tries so hard to ground me
and meant to elevate to wherever the wind goes.
so as i wonder if the train tracks are the highest
i’ll ever soar
i can confidently say, the answer is no
and that these wings of mine
will carry me to see so much more.


Her Night


being alone let’s me
hear and see
things I never noticed
were there.
it’s kinda nice
being able to check in with me
and not think about others
for a while,
to feel stillness and my feet on the ground,
observe this life I thought was ugly and horrific
and somehow
see beauty,
to be somewhat
on the road to rediscovering me…
maybe she
is hiding in leaky roofs and buzzing insects
and noisy cars that pass by, or
maybe she is in a white night light
or the bluish purple sky.
i think
i have a chance of finding her
if i sit still enough and observe,
maybe i can feel her if I understand
that me is her
and her hurts
but she still lives
and her has been hustled and abused
but she still gives
and her wants to give up
but she is still here
with her feet on the ground,
observing the sights and sounds
of a night as beautiful as she
wishes she could be
again.


Await the Day


i await the day that you will
need me,
that me being a part of your life
is so much more
than regular routine,
but more like a route
to everything
that makes this life worth living.
although it hurts to stretch,
i want you
to fill me with your love,
reach so far that you erase
my hurt and heartaches
from past people who didn’t know the right way
to expand my feelings, who abused my willingness
to try and my inability to stray.
don’t run away,
just stay a little longer,
let me show you how i can be a woman,
how i’m not just a girl,
but someone to make you feel complete.
i see us leaping, jumping
into new horizons,
the purple and pink and orange we create
in the sky without any clouds to bring rain
on our union.

it’s so clear now–
you’re slipping away,
leaving me and
i don’t want you to go,
but something about the way
you’re drifting
tells me that you’re serious this time.
i wish we had more time
to explore and discover,
to be more than casual lovers but truly
there for one another.
please, consider reconsidering
so that you can relieve me of the shivering
that occurs when you are not near.
as you walk away,
i already feel cold.
bring me your warmth from your spark,
fill up the room of my vessel
so that i never feel dark again.

touch my heart again,
let me romance you,
let me convince you
that you are making a mistake.
damn i hate
to beg but you’re leaving me
with no choice. the voice
of our love is hoarse
and me, i just want you
to come back.
i feel empty and without a soul
when i walk around with half of you in my body
and the other half floating beyond my control.
let’s unite and promise to keep it together
because to be honest, we need each other.

self,
i’ve been without you for too long,
forgot who you were
under the guise of being strong
and in my pursuit to survive,
i lost sight
of who you were
and the fact that i need me
and i await the day
when me will come back to this body
so that i can be whole again
rather than begging for the friend
of myself that i
lost and can’t seem to regain.


The Peace Eclipse


i saw an orange moon tonight
and something within me got memorized like
the moon symbolized hope.
at first i thought it was the sun,
about to set and disappear into the sky
but when i realized
it was the moon hanging low,
i felt different inside.

something about brightness in the middle of darkness
shows me that even in the darkness
of my mental situation,
even in the instability of my choice of occupation,
even in the fact that i want sunshine and life is still raining,
there is light.

there is peace that surrounds me no matter where i drive.
i look up and it’s in front of me.
i speed off and it’s behind me.
i go left and it’s beside me.
peace that’s eternal, not just nocturnal like the moon,
not here for a few days and then there’s change
like the lunar cycle, but
something in rare form
like actually being present to watch a caterpillar transform
into a butterfly,
like a concert without sound
or like truly making mama proud,
it feels as if the clouds
over my head just dissipated.

i’ve anticipated
peace
for a long time
and perhaps if i could look up
and see an orange moon on a tired night,
maybe peace is not too far away
because i just got a glimpse of what it looks like today.
i just hope it won’t shift like this eclipse,
that it won’t be a singular occurrence
in the pages of my life
or something i can only achieve
in the poems that i write
because i need it in my mind, in my words, and in my thoughts.
i need peace to envelop me like nectar on tree bark,
sticking to my heart
and rubbing off on whoever i touch.

i need peace so much
that you can just call me Middle East,
you can just call me ghetto streets,
you can just call me New York City police.
i only want drama on the stage these days–
i want the inner tragedies, satires and farces to go far away,
for them to be so drastically removed
that i’m naked enough for my skin to touch
the cool calm breeze
accompanied
by a leisurely drive
and an orange moon in the sky
that on this night
equaled
peace.