The Man Who Gifted Me Nothing, But A Patronym
The Son of a monster, and a very proud Mother:
I have lived a very humble life, and would wish for no other,
But if I had one regret it would be my blind allegiance
To a man that did not deserve the same-the balance
Of my life since that fateful Christmas day,
Has been filled with bitter confusion-I pray
That I will one day stop blaming myself for what he did
By never cowering from it, the way he hid
From his demons and ghosts, presenting a narrow view
To a Son who loved him, yet who never knew.
Had I known then what I know now,
I would have rid myself of the disdain I show now
For all I know he was, in spite of outward appearance.
I carry shame for my continued adherence
To the image of the man I thought I knew:
An idyllic image of a Father, which got me through
And past all of the hate I thought I had for him-
The man who gifted me nothing, but a patronym.
-Maurice Harris,5 June 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Only Father I Have Really Ever Known
You never stood up and told the truth, you never even tried-
You simply took so much from those around you, and simply died-
Without contrition or even shame for all that you had done to so many-
Instead, I was left to carry guilt for a Father that did not have any.
The simple fact that you helped to procreate me, seemed to suffice,
As reason for the deceit and bias of many, the iniquitous price
That I was asked to pay, simply for who my Father was,
When I am no more responsible, for what my Father does,
Than those that you victimized before your untimely demise.
This is a most prescient fact that some do not stop to realize:
I was just a little boy then, yet became privy to your maleficence
As a man of 36, when my love for you became abhorrence;
When the man I knew as my Father died once again,
Where the sorrow for a Father lost, became the bain
Of my very existence-the thought that I mourned you
And the loss that I felt, when I was never warned, you
Were a monster-a fact that I should have known-
Instead, I held on to your memory, where I could have grown-
To distance myself from who I believed you to be,
To grow as a man, for all the world to see,
Unbiased by my connection to you, a man I never knew.
Instead, deceitful asservations, of things I could never do,
Continue to haunt me, as a spectre of unspeakable torment;
Where, my erstwhile inherent rights, I now sadly, silently lament.
It is not from you though, that I seek relief
From the horrors of my heart's abominable grief.
I look to my only real Father, in Heaven above,
Who only shows me compassion, truth, and love-
Not all that which you espoused, and have done.
You stole so much from us, but I will have won
When I can finally say I do not loathe you any longer,
Only what you have done-then I will be so much stronger
Than I am now, and then perhaps, ready to finally go home
To Heaven, and to the only Father I have really ever known.
-Maurice Harris,21 October 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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Three Ghosts Of Christmas
There are three ghosts of Christmas,
which visit us each year.
One from the past,
one from the present
and one from the future.
They show us what our life was,
how it is now and how
if we do not change it will be.
The past
shows us our roots
of how we have become.
The present
shows us how we are,
a mirror image of ourselves,
that not so rosy image
we do not want to see.
The future
shows how we will eventually become,
wizen and unloved
by nearly everyone
with the exception of ourselves.
It gives us this glimpse
so that we can change it
if we really want to.
That decision is ours
and if we do
next year when
the three ghosts of Christmas come to call
the piper maybe playing
a different kind of tune.
20 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Father's Day 2008
What is Father's Day, without the Guest of Honor?
Is it then a celebration of that which was, formerly?
Because, now Father is absent, he is gone, or
Is he? His presence looms with thee, there, nearly!
How have we come to be here, without one another?
The 'love of your life'-oh, really? Then why believe your own deceit?
You must ensureth your mind's heal, then only-befitting, a Mother!
Otherwise, your life's journey shall render your pain's repeat!
With Father, our family is surely completed-
Lo, lacking same: empty, my heart; my soul, depleted!
Why do you not see, as do all others
Your want for return, fastly, of your drothers?
Father loves Mother, indeed more than he ought-
Return, must we, our happiness, with nary another thought!
Maurice Harris,15 June 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Enlightenment at the end
Mother knew well, I thought once.
Father knew well, I thought once.
Teachers knew well, I thought then.
None knew well, I thought at the end.
23.01.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A New Life Of Wonder
I will take this trial, I will take this tribulation-
I will turn it from a travesty, into a celebration
Of life, and lessons learned from same,
To Glorify my Heavenly Father in His Only Begotten Son's Name!
I will not hate, nor will I begrudge too long
Any that may not have the Spirit that I have now-kept strong,
Through all the adversity that I have faced!
All my worries, all my pain, has not erased,
But strengthened, my Faith-even through an Earthly death;
Though I do not remember breathing my erstwhile last breath,
I do remember that I was most certainly reborn-
To a new life and purpose, leaving the former behind, to properly mourn
All the nightmares I knew in my former life-
To build a new life of wonder, and happiness, out of my former's strife!
-Maurice Harris,4 March 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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Father's Day, Forbidden
Yet another Father's Day fastly apporaches
And a force outside of my control still encroaches
Upon my ability to be the Father I know I can be;
Two beautiful little Angels grow, yet, I can see
Only photographs-which surely do not show me
More than a brief moment in time-they do not know me,
Nor do I know them, yet we share a connection beyond the miles
That now seperate us. Am I cause for any smiles
They may have in times which are wholly their own! ?
Will this estrangement cease before they're grown,
And are able to make decisions without the influence of another?
When will they break ranks with the one they call 'Mother'-
To allow that their own concerns finally be considered?
When will the maternal selfishness, that has embittered
A Father, yield to the need of Daughters to know from whence they came?
I carry only remorse for the loss they have suffered-the shame,
That should be held by the two women who purport
To know what it means to be a Mother, yet fall very short!
I may not be the Father I know I am, until this veil of shame is lifted-
Nor may these Angels truly know what God Himself has gifted,
Both to me, and to them-this Father-Daughter bond;
To our tragic loss, how shall the Fates respond?
The answer will only unfold through the hands of time
And the travesty we now face may only be described as a crime.
I live many miles from them, but I carry them with me always-
No amount of time or space may take this away-all days
Which pass without them in my life belies the gratitude
I have for their very existence-indeed, a bittersweet beatitude!
One day, 'this too shall pass' and my heart's ache shall cease-
One day, this soul shall sing the sweet song of its own release
From the torment I now feel, for a consort that is not allowed, to be!
The gracious gift of Fatherhood, once avowed to me
By the very Hand of God, has been stolen by ignorance-
Earthly ignorance of the import of same-my abidance
Is surely not of my own making, but in nature, Divine;
When I wonder, shall this end! ? Just a little sign
Is all I shall need, to sustain me further still-
Until such time as this estrangement's end is His Will!
In the meantime, another poignant Father's Day to me
And all those similarly in search of their purpose: to be
All they were meant to be, for a child who needs their guidance.
This is what must be one day, to cease this soul's subsidence
Into an abyss-from which a return becomes less and less likely.
Instead of wondering: 'what if? ', I need to know what might be,
In a world filled with the two wonders-as my dreams have shown.
I need my eyes to behold, not photographs, to see how they have grown;
Until these dreams meet with reality, I shall never be whole-
Until you are again near me, we will never recover what they stole!
-Maurice Harris,13 June 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Proof Is In The Life I Have Led
The proof is in the life I have led, through adversity
That most only read about in books-all this happened to me:
I have lived every Father's worst nightmare,
Suffered indignities that I could catalog, yet would never dare;
I have died, literally, of a broken heart-
And through it all, I only ever wished to impart
That there is but one right and one wrong-
Truth, in spite of all, is the only right-only the truly strong
Can stay Faithful at all times to verity, in spite of ignorance:
It takes Faith to move mountains to maintain such diligence;
Whatever it takes, apparently I have it in abundance,
Where others simply revert to to lies, and acquiescence
To the wants of others, in spite of their own desires;
This is the grief of their own heart, and all it truly admires!
-Maurice Harris,23 February 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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Beauteous Spirit
Beauteous spirit, where hath thee gone?
Whyest hath thou treated me as such,
Whyest not respecteth me, as I, you, so very much?
Why then might thee us others as a pawn?
What may cause you to stray so very far?
Why do you believe your own myth
Causal has it been to our great rift?
And to think, I thought I knew who you are!
Do you look in the mirror and see your shame?
What makes all of this worth it to you?
Why might you do things as you do?
To think, upon me you assess the blame!
Ne'er shall you be able to understand or see
The depths of the pain you have caused me!
Maurice Harris,26 June 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Life and Death, How Ironic
Life, it described my Mother
Life, she was the image
Life, she was healthy
Life, she loved every day
Life, you saw it in her eyes
Life, you heard it in her voice
Life, how ironic it could be
Death, the impossible
Death, too somber a thought for her
Death, she would live a long, long time before it would confront her
Death, sickness maybe, but there is always a cure
Death, not even a thought in the doctor’s mind
Death, it now replaced life
Life and death, my mother passed away with a look of peace on her face
She died knowing that she lived every moment to the fullest.
poem by Janice Karp
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A Purposeful Lesson, From A Painful Past
I lament the fact that I do not miss my dearly-departed Dad,
Nor may I see as real, the relationship that we once had:
My Father was not the man he purported to be;
It is only now, long after his demise, that I am able to see
The man I thought I knew, for who he truly was.
What is past is prologue, yet not for me, because
Though many years have past, I still wonder what was real.
My heart aches for what this association was allowed to steal,
Both from me and those I hold in the highest esteem.
Oh, how I wish that it were only a bad dream,
But I am not so fortuitous as to see its end-
My present is not one my past could portend.
I am not my Father's keeper, nor am I to blame
For anything that he once did-so, why then the shame! ?
He was but a fiend with which I share a last name,
Yet, it is not my purpose, nor surely my aim,
To cast aspersions at the man from whence I came,
Merely to markedly point out that we are not one and the same.
I can no more help my connection to him as I can my logical mind,
Yet this diaspora spreads and I may never leave it behind!
I have ardently prayed for refuge from this horrible curse,
Yet my prayers have gone unanswered, and the guilt, gotten worse!
I only wish to awaken to a world where ignorance is no longer-
A world where time heals all, and I am allowed to become stronger
For all that I have had to endure, for all I have overcome,
Yet my mind will not allow riddance to be paid to these cumbersome
Burdens I feel deep in my soul because of who my Father was.
I should not be made to suffer for what my Father does,
Just as no man should be held to account for acts of another,
I should not be made to recompense for those of a Father
I never really knew-whose shameful ruse was hidden from me.
This exorcision is needed, to ensure this curse is ridden, from me
And all those that I hold dear, for they have suffered too!
The world must see not only what I have suffered through,
But that my suffering was not in vain-it was surely not His intention
To inflict such pain without purpose; His Intervention
Is rife with lessons for all the world to see.
Lessons in the way He intends for the world to be:
Where His children demonstrate love, understanding, and compassion
For each other-without bias and prejudice-and without ration!
This must be the lesson that He wished to be taught to me
And the way He believes the world ought to be-
Otherwise my penance was all in vain,
And the world truly is insane!
-Maurice Harris,19 June 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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Beautiful Child Of God (Dedicated To Cecilia Bell: 1976-2012)
Why would God take someone with so much life left to live! ?
For what, pray tell, might He no longer allow her to give
All that she has-and still could! ? Only He knows, we will never.
Yet, the life she did live, gifted us memories time may not sever,
Nor erase-for, we are far bettter for the time He did allow.
We have been Blessed far more than our grief belies now.
May we grow to remember her as fondly in her absence
From this Earth, with her charm, wit, and pleasance,
As we did when she was amongst us, in our temporary place.
May we gather at times to see the ever-present smile upon her face
Once again, to uplift us whensoever we may be downtrodden;
This single action alone should more than suffice, to broaden
Our understanding as to why Heavenly Father needed her in His Elysium.
Beautiful Child of God, we shall be with you again, when our time here is done.
-Maurice Harris,25 August 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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Unusual Love
Our desires flew like birds in the mornings
When we were waked by the bells of dreams
Hypnotized and ready for another round of living
We would walk down the street of a foreign city mesmerized
By our own history seen on the streets and in the gardens
Filled with exotic flowers and the grass; you loved the grass
You said you would teach me everything
I never found out really what but I accepted you as mentor
To learn whatever might be
I accepted the usual, but unusual, ways of life
And lived a life I never thought I would.
It became a typhoon passing through paradise.
You accepted my gifts but perhaps not my ideas
I thought I knew you
Although I hardly knew if I knew myself;
I learned to accept your unusual, but usual, ways
Your strange thoughts about living and dreaming and mixing living with dreams
I learned to like your usual ways of presenting unusual desires
What about psychology?
There is no way to analyze the working of the brain machine,
Working billions of cells, transmitters, and neutrons
Flying, fighting, competing
How do ideas come to life?
That was another hard question.
I was not able to find out anything about anything,
Except that I was alive and felt alive and yet felt dead as well;
I watched rain, fog, horses, birds, and trees, and I watched the blue;
I really loved watching the blue every day;
You loved the same, although maybe for different reasons;
Maybe we loved each other for different reasons too.
Did we hate each other?
I felt I hated you not a few times.
Did you hate me? Maybe you did as well sometimes
And maybe you still hate me
When you think of that July when the blue was everywhere
With the white dot in the middle, shining like the first time
When everything was green
And you were glistening in the middle of the blue, the green, the summer,
But I was not there.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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God's Greatest Gift
God's greatest gift-that of being a Father,
Rivaled only by compeer of a Mother;
Each aid formation of precious individuality,
Causal most to evolution in a child's personality-
Created in thine own image, guided by counsel,
Aegis directed lovingly is surely found well!
All careful parental thought made does attest
To your want and need for each, all the best!
Gather from it's import, the duty it imparts,
Guard must be offered it, in your hearts!
Not are each possessory, rather compeers,
Blessed witness to their wonder, through the years!
Treasure and duteously take possession of this,
Lest, if not, surely you would be remiss!
Maurice Harris,26 October 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Christmas Reunion
Christmas is only 10 days away
For most of us Christmas is just like any day of life
9 to 5 working but nothing can stop them make Christmas
The special day and reunion
Miss seeing whole family together throughout the whole year
The beautiful loving thought of buying presents to the loved
Make it a special Merry Christmas Reunion
Heart beating with joyful reunion
Kitchen with food and drinks smells this special day
House decorated with Christmas tree
Sparkling lights with all colourful presenting hanging
Each presenting represents the colourful joy in life
Family reunion is so beautiful like the rainbow upon sky
Christmas Reunion, do not leave a chair empty
Wish all family reunion
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
poem by See Fee Lee
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0226 Self-hate, Self-love
When did you cease to love, then hate, yourself?
What terrible event? How long ago?
What slight misunderstanding, view of self,
that led to fading love, then bitter hate?
What silent judgment of yourself, believed,
without a witness, umpire, counsel, friend?
Where was that childhood friend you loved, called 'God',
who knew you better than you knew yourself,
and understood your every thought and act?
What black and vicious weed grew secretly
while all your thoughts - you thought - were of the Good?
What demon whispered sweet and viciously?
Alas, no clue as yet. The only way,
to love that self that never went away.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Saddened Am I To Contemplate
An abundance of flawed reasoning and illogical thought;
That is what to that day and since, you have brought!
To admit this though is to invite fault your own,
Ne'er have you had humility enough to yourself, cast a stone!
Whether admittance to such you have, or not
Given facts as they are, much regret and shame you ought!
An unceremonious fall from grace to be sure-
Nothing though that forced repentance can't cure!
Empowered has your deceit and false posit been
By those carelessly given power, they do pretend
Their's to be a righteous stand,
Though not does our ultimate judge, this command!
Saddened am I to comtemplate
That I hold court over your fate!
Maurice Harris,29 June 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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I Love You And This Is Why...
Trapped by the ignoble power of your deceit,
Thought did you I would bury my head and retreat?
You call yourself a mother, yet you are a criminal
That hides behind fictitious crimes- minimal!
No thought of how it is law may deal with you,
No care of how God may judge you?
You show my point with each irrational move
You, the reviled, me, the redeemed- time shall prove!
Deserving not of my compassion nor my reprieve
Actions so without explantion- no one would believe!
A lesson in humility and temperance I shall teach,
Hopeful am I, that without delay, you it does reach!
I love you and this is why I hold fast:
Because the love we have for each is meant to last!
Maurice Harris,22 June 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Transcendent Revelations
Transcendent revelations- a prelude to your entry to this world,
I proffer you all that I possess, my heart, perpetually unfurled!
Though not yet of this world, contemplations of thee abound!
Ever as I may...nary an elucidation could duly expound!
To my world, you have been delivered, as though from above-
Sent to me and my beloved as a symbol of our perfect love!
Created you were by the love we two share, in a distant land,
Indubitably enigmatic, as though designed by God's own hand!
A greater bequest upon me could ne'er be conferred,
The mere thought of your imminence has my emotions stirred!
A life...indisputably created in mine own image,
Though not a sight have I begotten, I know your visage!
Not a day goes by withoutyou in my thought, not one-
Euphoric and exalted am I...my life's purpose truly has begun
Maurice Harris,30 May 2006
poem by Maurice Harris
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Magnificent Melody
I have never loved before, not like I do now-
No, I have never loved-until you showed me how!
With each day that passes to the morrow,
I find more love avails to me-hoping I might borrow
Some, or all, and even more, create-
For your essence abounds-within me, it doth permeate!
Each thought I have seems now, more profound;
My mind fashions a magnificent melody, where there is not a sound!
In weather most dreary, I feel your warmth still;
Dreams I never knew I had, now seem sure to fulfill!
My heart brims with emotion, as it hath never-before;
I ponder, in wide wonder, as to what our life as one, hath in store!
Will you be my felicitous 'forever', here and everafter?
Might I count upon your heart's complete and utter capture?
Maurice Harris,28 April 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Life In Detail
Who could tell just what might happen ?
Sometimes you're gonna feel a shock.
You got your carbonet - you think you're laughin'
It may hit you like a ton of rock.
You see your life in detail
such a close-up view
from another angle
like another you
It's that feelin' again
do you remember when ?
you were so confused
you knew ever y thing
You thought that happiness was automatic
That you were livin' in MEAN time
It's that feelin' again
do you remember when ?
you had it all sown-up
And then you call a friend
A, like a life in detail
such a close-up view
like a mirrored image
of another you
{Instrumental interlude
You were after Mr. Energenic
Now you wonder why you feel so alone
that you're under anethestetic
makes you wonder where you're comin' from
It's like the feelin' again
do you remember when ?
you were so convinced
you knew everything
like a life in detail
such a close-up view
from another angle
like another you.
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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