The least of us

Tonight, a cold north wind
finds a tormented soul,
encrusted in cast-off old rags,
discarded fabric, forgotten cotton,
feet clad with worn out leather,
a motionless form lays crumpled,
held in a cardboard shroud,
the scraps of existence, no joy,
a forgotten shadow of life,
of what was, of what could be,
the wonder of city night lights,
perform kaleidoscope dances,
they mask the most precious,
humanity’s sack cloth clothed,
life should not suffer so,
life abundant should provide,
the lesser are the mightiest,
the strength of the spirit,
existing to remind us of,
in a heartbeat, are you, am I.

©2014, Donald Harbour

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Slaming the slam

this night is cold and wet,
an ice water rinse of clothing.
parts of me curse my inability
to find shelter, leading me to
a lapse in judgement, it is
an illustrative life event.
my only solace, a dimly lit beer tavern,
it is a  rain drop caught on the tongue
quenching a drought of understanding.
there thrust into amateur night chaos,
finding a poetry slam pit of confusion.
in a grungy corner perched on a stool
presumed poets are preaching,
spewing out denial, these floundering
disciples of expressionism, railing
against men, women, war, peace,
a rambling dirge of complaints,
they are puppies barking at nothing,
cats piteously crying for recognition.
words strung together, randomly
searching for cognitive thought,
limited by their experiences, they are
lost lunatic poetic apostles ,
wandering a wasteland of thought,
the poems dried fish divided
for the masses. their vinegar will
never be made into wine, their bread
offered is stale, pitted by the weevils
of claustrophobic boredom, the  voices
self searching plastic soul surgery.
the  beer is flat and tasteless, untouched
I return back  into the drenching night,
thankful for its companionship, once again
wrapped  in the comfort and warmth of its misery.

2014, Donald Harbour

A birds nest tale

In the backyard, with indifferent abandon,
a holly bush leans against the fence.
An invitation that will be taken.

Within the protective dense thorny green foliage,
mom and dad Cardinal make a twig home.
Soon peeps announce a new families hatch.

Foraging with industry the male and female
endlessly fly to the yard garden grocery store.
The tomato horned worms do not survive.

It is an organic garden relying on benevolent help
from these talon red feathered creatures and good bugs.
Ravenous chicks doom the plant destroying worms.

A peek in the nest reveals two fluffy hungry babes
their open yellow rimmed beaks pointed skyward.
They are ravenous to any rustle of the branches.

Flashing dazzling colors, song birds dart about,
one of the benefits of planting a harvest of veggies.
Everyone benefits the bounty; birds and neighbors.

The family dogs seem to sense their unspoken duty
protectively lying in the shade beneath the nest branch.
Coming inside at nightfall they give up their guard watch.

Night darkness can become the indiscriminate evil hour for life,
when dark hides the skulking casual destroyers of homes.
The time of burglars, murders, the devils spawn, feral cats.

One of the neighbors daily feeds these treacherous felines,
in sympathy for their dispassionate wild primitive existence.
The cats have no morals, only a taste for baby birds.

©2013 Donald Harbour

I am an addict

I have to admit, I am an addict.
There I’ve said it; I am an addict.
I crave my drug of choice,
Drink it in, wallow in it.
I rejoice at it’s nurturing feeling,
Its uncomplicated high.
I fear my soul is lost to it.
It fashions my dreams,
Whispers to me in the night.
It takes away my depression,
Catapults me through anxiety,
My days are spent seeking it,
I pay what ever it demands.
The torture of absence aches my being.
It is a canopy that shields me,
I hide in its unfathomable reality.
Having consumed its sweet musk,
It now courses through my veins,
Shaping my world, my mind, my beliefs.
There is no help for me,
I do not seek intervention,
Counseling is a rich mans joke.
Naked before it I seek only its cloth,
A mantle of glorious colors and light.
Alone in this sanctity I am immortal,
Bringing me to my existence roots.
I have no choice but to give in to it,
Though, my love for it is shameless.
I hold no one responsible except myself,
There is no arrest for using it,
No laws violated, no prison.
It is bought and sold, yet free.
When you call me and no one answers,
I will be incapacitated by it,
Unable to respond to mankind’s devices.
I do not wish to be disturbed,
I will be with my obsession,
Inhaling my dependency;  Nature.

©2013, Donald Harbour

Kingdom come

People are a disingenuous species,
Stealers, cheaters, killers, devourers.
Religious psychopaths imagining a God.
Teaching false humanity, love thy neighbor,
Unless the neighbor believes not as you, then,
destroy him in the creators name.
The hypocrisy of religion is salvation,
the cosmos cares not about beliefs,
the Creator cares only about life,
All life, even the hypocrites of life.
There is no judgement day, there is now,
there are the fish in the sea,
the birds singing in the trees,
the babble of cascading brooks,
azure blue skies with white clouds,
there is you, there is me, there is
only time flushing detritus of delusion’s delirium.
The excuses for our species,
the greed, government, uselessness,
organic perversion of universal life.
We will be judged not by our accomplishments.
We will be judged on our stewardship,
and the earth is taking names.

©2012, Donald Harbour

Embracing nothing

did you ever know desolation
knowing that there is nothing
but a mind trapped in a loop
the scene playing over and over
no way to turn off its totality
a feeling of vast aching emptiness
a wilderness scream no one hears
no one cares no one ever will

the streets are  full of catatonic people
moving objects in cloistered shells
avoiding each others eye contact
no smile no hint of human recognition
they are a wasteland of flesh and bone
bodies clothed in a death shroud
plaintive expressions of indifference
no one cares no one ever will

the thought occurs you are alone
you are the only thinking human left
you feel the species quickened demise
fear has replaced rational reason
in a moment breath is gone collapsing
there is a panic of emotional suffocation
you now know the burden of loneliness
no one cares no one ever will

©2012, Donald Harbour

Greeting a winter morning

The alarm twitters on the night stand,
Window panes are glazed frosty dark,
A winter drizzle fogs the morning,
It is a  rolling mist of chilled foreboding,
With metallic mouths  we greet each other,
Peering from beneath hay stack tousled hair,
Another day reveals itself as a comic,
I listen to the patio wind chimes sing,
They are temple bells calling for meditation,
Although together we harvest the years,
The feeling is that life will never end,
Mornings are the heralds of continued love,
Blurred promises to honor the day,
It expands chrysanthemum tendrils of light,
The window still casts its non-commitment,
So we turn away from its fractal vision,
Inward to the home, to coffee, and each other.

©2011, Donald Harbour