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Best Poems Written by Tom Harris

Below are the all-time best Tom Harris poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Tom Harris Poem

A Morning In May

If I were to tell you
Of a Saturday in May,
Of lying in bed as the sun came up
And brightened the room;

If I were to tell you
Of the fluttering curtains,
Of the cool air flooding in
And how I curled up beneath the blankets to stay warm;
Of the birds, some with sweet songs, others harsh,
Of the thump of the newspaper tossed against the door
And the sound of a train approaching a distant crossing;
Of my thoughts in that sleepy haze,
Of my confidence and anticipation
As I compiled a to-do list in my mind;

If I were to tell you
Of the faded and frayed blue jeans,
Of the torn, paint-splotched sweatshirt
And the battered tennis shoes I put on;
Of standing before the mirror,
And thinking my clothes had seen better days,
Knowing those days had not been better than this;
Of my breakfast
Of shredded wheat and toast with strawberry preserves,
And how much better it tasted than it did the day before;

If I were to tell you
Of the coffee that morning,
Of its savory zing,
And how I warmed my hands on the mug;
Of going outside,
Of wondering about the fellow who wrote of the day
And rejoicing and being glad in it;

If I were to tell you
Of that fellow waking on a morning like this,
Of his feelings of awe and inspiration
And how they moved him to write about the day;

If I were to tell you,
Would you remember waking up
On such a morning in May?

Details | Tom Harris Poem

I Have This Disability

I have this disability
The one called imbecility,
Along with instability
And rampant incivility.
I lack dependability
And have no credibility.
I’m short on sensibility,
Am prone to gullibility
And have the inability
To see my fallibility.
And yet, with great humility
I say with plausibility
The concept “genius” –  you’ll agree – 
Really fits me to a tee.

Details | Tom Harris Poem

My Ambition Up and Left Me

My ambition up and left me, and now I’m really in a sweat.
   The computer’s on, coffee’s hot, a CD’s playing, I’m all set
   to write a story, poem or book until I start to write and then
   my wandering mind goes quickly off to hither and then yon. When,
   I wonder, will it come back to compose some poetry or prose?
   Unfazed by caffeine and dark chocolate, my ennui just grows and grows,
   transforming all my good intentions to pavement on that Hell-bound road.
   I should be frustrated; I should be angry. I should pen an ode,
   or rambling essay, or some fiction, or fictional non-fiction
   praising my valiant deeds, stunning looks, and perfect diction.
   Instead, I check my e-mail, look at Facebook and play solitaire
   when I should be scribbling novels or love poems to a damsel fair.
   But me? I keep on staring at the computer’s large, empty screen,
   confident at this pace I’ll have a paragraph by Halloween.

Details | Tom Harris Poem

Fame Everlasting

“Two eminent scientists say the human race is likely to become extinct at its own hand within 100 years as it exhausts resources through a population explosion and unbridled consumption.”
www.earthweek.com and The Plain Dealer, June 26, 2010

Just as the beasts that have gone before us – 
Like the dodo and Tyrannosaurus – 
We homo sapiens, some people think,
In a few decades, we’ll all be extinct.

Two scientists say that it now appears
In ninety-five maybe one hundred years,
The extra-terrestrials will commence
Referring to humans in the past tense.

So, I’m thinking if I get hopping
And find someone to print this jotting,
My fame of fifteen minutes from this rhyme,
Will come at quarter till the end of time.