Harvest McCampbell, Poetry Archive

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Note: The gentlemen (there are two) mentioned in this poem were friends and suitors only. One is still my friend, the other has passed to the other side. The gentleman mentioned in Forever Changed is a completely different person; in the past he was more than just a friend. (The future has yet to unfold.) One of the interesting things about poetry, is how people read their own stories into the lines. It seems a little clarification is necessary to keep my story from getting too muddled up. Forever Changed is about a dysfunctional romance, 'Sudden Violence' is about our very human decline. However, it also speaks to the poets embrace of solitude, and injuries from an accident, which whisper back to the dysfunction of  the romance.

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Sudden Violence


1. Decline

he was once robust
fit and muscular
a tribal council hopeful
wishing to be
my lover

i did not
gravitate
towards
his embrace

instead i
observed
his decline
from a distance

tonight i
was invisible
a few feet
from diabetes blind
eyes

I was glad to see
he had love
in his life
and also glad
it wasn't me

and this other one
riding the miles
home to the rez
beside me
began his decline
years ago
began it
with a bottle
others hurried
it along
with knives
and other
sudden violence

he reasons with me
that other older
more disabled
men than he
have mates

but i do not
gravitate
towards
his embrace

i wonder
about my own
decline

we do not
last forever

i wonder
in those
brilliant
autumn days
will i dress
in colorful
fall leaves

gravitating
towards
the earth’s embrace

will i have
regrets

in the season
of my
own
decline

Copyright 11/14/04 Harvest McCampbell

 

2. Through My Brain

after the darkness
and before
the gloom

i opened my eyes
like an infant
the world was bright
images registered
on my retina
with no possible
interpretation

long moments
later
i realize
im sitting
in a car

im sitting
in a car
in the brush

im sitting
in a car
in the brush
and
the motors running

better turn
the motor off

i glance around
find my hand
connected to my wrist
connected to my arm
connected to my body

i glance some more
see keys
dangling from
the ignition

i will nerve
to speak to nerve
muscles to respond
to collaborate

long fumbling
moments later
the engine
is as silent
as the thoughts
that should be
chorusing
through my
brain


Copyright 3/10/05 Harvest McCampbell

 

3. Not Fun

my brain prickles
exhausted
by the very
effort
of straining
for thought

my fingers
falter
stumble
get lost
amongst
themselves

i can not form
the simple
twine
my hands
have woven
since I was
young

my son
enters my
field of view
speaks

the sound of
my voice in
answer
startles me

i am amazed
i can speak
out of the
depth of
this
befuddled
silence

concussion
its not
fun

Copyright Feb. 1, 2005 Harvest McCampbell

 

4. Among the Stars

he told me once
on the long
ride home from
the coast
that he was named
dexter
before he was
even a tiny child

he used both
hands
that first
spring day
reaching towards
the wonder
of a butterfly
hovering
in still air

later
his grizzled hands
gathered discarded
lumber
fashioned
a bench
where he held
court
with his gnarled
walking stick

whenever i passed
he would
raise his hand
and smile
raise his hand
and right
my world

another long drive home
he lifted his voice
filled the car
with complicated
rhythm intricate
melody

i could have
fallen
fallen
fallen
at that very moment
if i would have
let myself
but of course
i wouldn't

he forgave me
this
with a story

when i drove past
and lifted my hand
smiled and waved
his world was
set right

we had between us
this simple
equation
this simple symmetry

i thought it would go on

but one spring night

he lifted his hands
towards that
glorious butterfly
and followed him
into the sky

i hear him signing
still
up there
among
the stars


Copyright 3 AM 3/11/05 Harvest McCampbell

 

5. No Pain

“don’t cry for
me
i am made of light
and feel no pain”

“i am not crying
for you
but for this
my own small loss
for your song
which now
lives on the
other side
for your family
for dreams
lost”

“don’t cry for
me
i am made of light
and feel
no pain”


Copyright Dawn 3/11/05 Harvest McCampbell

 

6. My House is Haunted

he hunkers
down
on one of those
squat round
cedar stools

foot fit carefully
to the notch
elbow on knee
hand steadying
square drum

he sits
singing
gambling
songs
in my
sleep

my house is haunted

Copyright 8:00 AM 3/11/05 Harvest McCampbell


7. Ready

some people
clearly
see too much
their shock
startles me
when eyes
meet mine

others behold
me with
great relief
i wonder
if in those
moments
i was knocked
clear of my body

did i wander
years as a
ghost

am i still
there
in the shadows
of houses
i never
inhabited
whispering
poetry

the relief
i see
is so clear
it must
be true

and then
there are
those
who think that
after all
after everything

after that sudden
violent moment
and all the small violences
of its
aftermath
that i should be
ok

it is this
the shock
the relief
and the denial
that i am ready
to let go of

i am ready
to just
be

Copyright 3/11/05 Harvest McCampbell

 

8. Dear Friend

days ago

my plum tree
was glorious
in bloom
a fragrant
chaos of
singing bees

today
the blossoms
have turned
brown
green leaves
unfurl

her spring
has past
into the long season
of calm green

our lives
are like this

bursting
into
momentary
chaotic
bloom

and then
spring
has past

dear friend

i will miss
your
smile
a long
long
while


Copyright 3/12/05 Harvest McCampbell

 

9. The Plan

it all happened
so quickly

every bit of it

none if it
was part of
the plan


Copyright 3/12/05 Harvest McCampbell

10. We will go on

surviving
is what we
are good at

whether we are
singing
among the stars

dreaming as old bones

whispering poetry
from the shadows

or busy with chaotic
bloom

surviving is what
we are good at

we will go on


Copyright 3/12/05 Harvest McCampbell

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Note:

The poetry on this page may be rotated from time to time. For information on posting or publishing this series or any of Harvest's writing please contact her by e-mail: harvest95546@yahoo.com

Links to more of Harvest's writing can be found on the Words page.

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Harvest McCampbell

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