New Poetry by Dawnell Harrison

A party

The rocks in my front yard

are gemmed with rain -

a mill of raindrops battle
with the forecast bruising

the sky purple and black.

A party at my house -

the human beehive buzzes
in one at a time as they

lay their needs on me.

My heart is too small

for such desires.

I smile as if I truly care

as the headlights of cars
trail down the street.

- Dawnell Harrison 2014

Fresh pain

The rain marbles the sky
grey and black as the wind

blows my golden hair sideways -

tussles cling to my maroon lipstick.

My baby scrubs the air raw with her

blood red cries,

always wanting something that

I sometimes cannot undo.

Perhaps she holds fresh pain
in her soul that only God

can comprehend.

We move forward.

- Dawnell Harrison 2014

Tiger lilies

The moon frowns on me -

I disappoint her.

Six tiger lilies sit
in a tubular vase

on the kitchen counter.

They are too wild for me -

their spots throw me
off balance.

They seem to lean on me

as their open mouths

say feed me.

I have nothing to feed them -

these beasts inhabiting
my house, my eyes,

my luke-warm assurances
from the world.


- Dawnell Harrison 2014

Dawnell has  been published in over 200 magazines and journals including Queen's Quarterly, Fowl Feathered Review, Nerve Cowboy, and many others.  She has also had five books of poetry published entitled Voyager, The maverick posse, The fire behind my eyes, The love death, and The color red does not sleep.