Charles Harding

Moultrie, Georgia

Born and bred during the Great Depression, few families as ours reared on the plush farm lands of Northern Minnesota, knew of it. In my father's house we were preoccupied developing resources available to us. Food on our table didn't come from a store. I can close my eyes and still "feel" the red hot pot belly stove as my brothers and sisters snuggled together at the foot of our fathers chair, he with the new baby cradled in his arms, and then he would read us stories. He read stories such as Mark Twain's "Huckleberry Finn" and recite Longfellow, Charles Dickens, etc. Rearing teenagers, during the turmoil of the '60's inspired 'Generation Got", "Tempering Tempers", "Trespassing" etc. Prior to retirement, I taught special children in California, the island of Guam and worked as coordinator for the Northwest Arctic School District of Kotzehue, Alaska. Traveling about the world, I learned about people of many different cultures.

Ultra Virus Blue (Color Blind)

Life began on the seat of a Ford
Black was on white, bottom or not,
Blossoming those two in view of the Lord.
Could only the devil affected a stop.
The force of Kingdoms may try,
Yet the union was destined a Virus to drop
Very soon at hand a disastrous cry.

Appearing in September -- a bad time to enter
A color not white, nor black, but blue
Through hunger and cold of the long hard winter
spring found the baby happy, healthy, and true.
But a blue bodied child lives without love,
And the rear of a Ford too mobile to chase.
No God in heaven looking down from above
To give our Virus a touch of his grace.

So into the world outward and up
Hearing ever so often the mutter,
"The is not a place this table your cup
Ain't it enough to live in the gutter?'
Passing of time, with a body of blue
Nothing could change it regardless of all
The arms, the legs, the belly was true
Forever an ever blue was her hue.

The doctor who looked stroked his chin
Her peers would gasp with amaze
Ultra Virus would hide and wish she'd not been
Her emotions a fire, ablaze.
Black on black and white on white
Yet blue a colorless core
Nothing perfected nor anything right
Blue hue a thing to abhor.

One night in a rage of respite
Ultra drew her razor sharp blade
Extracted her eyes in a horrible fright
But survived with abundance of aid
None color, not blue, black or white
Out of mind her past was laid
Pain, hurts fade -- fade into night.

High Rise Dwelling

Time has flown, it is 6:00 am again
From my window facing east -- from my cell
I see God's light, privileged as I am,
To view the glory of dawn knowing all is well.

However in contrast, below is a sordid grind.
Endless columns, spewing onerous sounds,
Along well beaten byways of human kind.
Gentle hues dissipate -- are lost upon the ground.

Deep purple is obliterated by wingless ants.
Crawling of dubious worth below the open sky.
Insignificant tunes my master plays, I dance.
Command: "Go into nowhere -- from your lofty high".

Going thusly, unwillingly at the bell,
Answering the call to recycle my time.
Then returning again to my honeycomb cell.
Above the din, to a purer chime.