Biography of Tom Harding
Everything thats worth knowing about him can be found at www.tomarianne.net
Tom Harding Poems
Bedrooms. Bedrooms and living rooms and hallways and tiny kitchens,
Still Life With Beer And Fruit
One taste of success and I was running down the hill raving about gold. How long
The worlds too full, I cannot talk. I go and lie upon the grass, with no thought of right or wrong, just a child like dream of language.
More News On Sorrow
The sadness never ends, things manage to worsen in the depths of the deepest despair. Just as the
Some men never doubt their purpose, they push it all aside like a
Spring came. With clothes of winter still wrapped round me, I walk to the bus. Growing craftier everyday to a world on it's hinges.
Like A Stranger Bringing Bad News
Too many mornings dressing in darkness; The heart heals over in woe, grows cold and dies, like a tomb stone neglected in forgotten woods. The courtyard birds leave the nest, the winter
Urinating at midnight, I drown another fly in the bowl then wash my hands and pass the hall. Between clouds, the moon is signaling
So sad, to see the moon, come calling at the curtains edge. And you as you always used to be- still soundless asleep in peace.
'let me look at you', you said and laid me down inspecting, as if assessing my papers credibility by lamplight.
Men without prayer Go about free as then can When not concerned by death Whilst those with god on the shoulder
Your So Beautiful
You're so beautiful Some nights when You're not here I recall our times
All These Faces Of The Crowd
The clouds are moving quick! Moneys run away with the days, Sat by the window Never seen such movement.
It's hot today. i hold my hand Against the yellow dry stone wall And flicker the crumbling clay Where the bees have been working.
It's hot today. i hold my hand
Against the yellow dry stone wall
And flicker the crumbling clay
Where the bees have been working.
I uphold the bent flowers
That have sunken under heat
And liberally water the geraniums,
Doing their best