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   DARREN J        HARRIS     

  • Music
    • Latest Release
    • Ambient Music
    • Classical music
    • Video
  • Photography
    • In Tasmania
    • The Politics of Regret
    • Illumination
    • Points Of View
    • Interior Landscapes
    • Psychological Portraits
    • re-examined landscapes
    • Photo Poems
  • Blog
    • Ambient Heart
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Run Tree 


Half naked across the plain 
a skinny legged thief 
foreign to these parts  

gutted 
by scheming men, 
fleeing in a sun  
drenched shriek  

silent in guilt 
to the dying din 
and once proud 
cattlemen.

 

 

 

 

 

Calligraphic 

 

Initials anonymous in 
their craftless art, 
found in every botanic park, 
written in city 
scroll 
the bleats 
of love lost 

by hard souls 

who never did 
quite 
make their mark; 
their bleeding hearts 

carved rough 

in a fit of near-dead 
regard, whispering 
a ghost-like glum 
to those who amble closer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Across some vast primordial expanse 


Across some vast primordial expanse 
we sit for a moment in delight 
and dance 
tremulous 
to the falling 
night.

 

Dispossessed 

 

 Standing upon the shore of your past   a single tree                               dispossessed, near                           heavy stone blocks                                 like a child would cast.                         Even the birds have left. 

 A trunk stolid and parred                           cuts the memory in two,                         gnarled by salt in the wound.                 What was it we tried to build           upon that dry flat earth? 

 Time now bequeaths a                     fading hue,                                                   a folding horizon tucks                             the hot sea asleep                                       and the blurry branches hang on,         just out of reach. 

 I could skim a stone                                 and pass a laugh                                         that would kill time dead,                           but a long shadow                               lingers                                                     towards the north of west,                   as if to say                                         There! there                                           this scene wont budge,                           or rest,                                                           a snapped                                                     shot shut,                                               hollowed in your                             convict heart.

Archival pigment ink on fine art cotton rag.
All images copyright Darren J Harris. All rights reserved.
Each photograph is for sale as a limited edition A2 size print with mat board
and the separate accompanying poem A4 size with mat board:
$400 (unframed)

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