matthew scott harris
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Death and dying taboo subjects...A Poem by matthew scott harrisafter receiving our first message/tech from my elder sister undergoing chemotherapy, i felt relieved cuz her voice sounded strong and resident. |
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Absent concupiscence no longer grieves me notA Poem by matthew scott harrisnothing i wrote here and posted ranks as truth, but my initial intend constituted trying to describe a dramatic downward plunge with libidinal longing.. |
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No matter death stalks so close...A Poem by matthew scott harrisonce again i meandering along the stream of consciousness regarding the dimension of the afterlife, and when just a newborn the incipient beast of bur.. |
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A brother laments the potential terminal outcome..A Poem by matthew scott harristhis plus a couple of my last posted poems deals with potential illness becoming terminal; namely death of a beloved sister undergoing chemotherapy, b.. |
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After I die...A Poem by matthew scott harristhe omnipresent existence of the grim reaper becomes more closer to me now because my eldest sister enduring a rough patch of chemotherapy & she lacks.. |
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Climate change foists severe challenges...A Poem by matthew scott harrisafter reading about the triple digit March heatwave in a fair extent of the country, i could help to think what dog days of summer will be like. |
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Rooted system of a down caste soiled sportA Poem by matthew scott harristhe amazing subterranean webbed wide world opens another dimension and holds spellbinding fascination, where this homo sapien will join the undergroun.. |
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Eldest sister of mine under divine hands...A Poem by matthew scott harristhe potential demise of a loving camaraderie with a sister, whose treatment for the BIG C - began three days ago, and will be exhausting upon her body.. |
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Quiet of an early morningA Poem by matthew scott harristhat slice of nirvana before the surge of humanity surges forth onto the streets meander like a overflowing river heading to their imponderable destin.. |
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Matthew O' Harris Ease A "FAKE" Irishman fair one ..A Poem by matthew scott harristhou nary hush red ove i rush within me blood, your truly doth don the em riddled isle juiced far thee phone of it. |
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