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POETRY

 "Best of the Net"
 
Poetry Nominee (2021)

Urban Desert

By: Janea D. Harris

I imagine it is a joy to begin one’s day with succulent fruit for those that are able,

For me, a medley of delicious, nourishing berries is often missing from my table. 

I dwell within a desert, but not the one that first comes to mind,

My urban desert is man-made, a quality grocery store is nearly impossible to find.

Yet, bourbon, beer and scotch are all right within my reach. 

I have many options to purchase whiskey, but none for a fresh apple or peach.

Oh, how I would love a meal compromised of savory carrots and leafy greens, 

But it appears that liquor, sweets and cigarettes are the only sustenance that I need.

 

*Sundress Publications, Best of the Net nominee (2021)

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Sculpture Miss Nitro
by Peter Voulkos

Entangled

By: Janea D. Harris

I am far from ordinary,

Twisting and winding at every turn.

It truly is my curves that make me unique,

Just when you think I am headed on a linear path, I pivot.

Forcing your eyes to trace my tangled curls,

It is not your intention to become wrapped up in me.

My beauty is unlike any you have ever seen,

You look away, only to swiftly turn back.

My curves are captivating,

You cannot help but to become entangled.

*Published in Highland Park Poetry's Art Gets in Your Eyes 2020

Poets Respond to Public Art

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Variations

By: Janea D. Harris

Fall is upon us, anticipation is building for the seasonal change and the beauty it brings,

 

We eagerly await the chance to drive the winding roads to admire the seasons’ gorgeous shades of orange, yellow and green.

 

The multitude of trees and their leaves all variations of colors, yet strikingly gorgeous when combined.

 

Imagine the vision we would see, if we looked upon each other with same adoration we bestow upon the fall foliage.

 

If we all viewed our differences, as an enhancement to our collective beauty.

 

*Published in the Highland Park Poetry anthology, The Majesty of Trees (2020)

The discovery of my inner-poet

My love of writing began very early in my life.  I discovered my connection to words when I was selected to read the Langston Hughes poem, Mother to Son for a school assembly in the 3rd grade. Determined to recite the poem from memory, I practiced it daily, while my Mom listened, until I had every word memorized. Normally shy, I found myself captivated by the poem and enthusiastically took the stage to recite it with both feeling and expression.

 

To this day, I have not forgotten the words of Mother to Son.

 

In those words, I found a connection and a voice that provided me the perfect outlet for self-expression. I have been in love with writing ever since.