The picture above was painted by my son Ben in 3d grade.  I think 
we somehow learn to paint our lives in the same way he is learning
to use lines and colors to make his world.

This poem came from my life.  It has been very difficult to share
because of it's intensely personal nature, but I have 
come to believe in my heart that sharing it and other poems of  
both the beautiful and painful sides of my own growth 
is an integral part of my path and my truth.

This is a place 
that we all go to sometimes
in this thing called relationship
and in this anguish and searing pain
we both must learn consciousness
we both must open our stinging eyes
and see each other   
in the midst of the raging storm
and find the key
that unlocks the secret door
to one another's hearts....

rh

'air'

ten thousand silent screams                                     
and as many dull aches ago it was yesterday
a good day
in those physical terms
with smiling sunshine
and all that crap that doesn't matter much
unless you don't count happiness as luck
and see glasses as half full
and think that shit works

and we were standing there
treading water
with a cold war of thoughts between us
a dammed brick wall so tangible
that i had bloody scrapes down my arms
from trying not to scale it

jesus
my head bangs around like an old pillow
next to you
suffocating its own scream for air
as i wildly look with blinded eyes 
and unfeeling fingers
in this viscous slow-motion pain
for the tiny invisible key 
that will have your body in my arms
and your laughing face dancing in my eyes
again for forever

Richard Harrison                    (c)1998


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Poetry is life, and life, I think, is simply about love....


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