Farah Lawal Harris
Hi! I’m Farah.
I am an artist, speaker, leader, and coach that inspires, heals, and educates others through creativity and wellness.

“The Things Growing Next Door” (POEM)
Bad influences basked in the sun
til the street lights came on;
I went dormant, hibernated all summer long.
Daddy didn’t want me copycatting
the things growing next door.

SPIRITUAL AWAKENING (Poem)
When I inhale,
I stretch my belly out past my belt,
guide breath through every locked crevice,
knock off cobwebs of lies we told.

GRASP WISELY (Poem)
You don't have to correct the past.
It's already forgiven.
Take pleasure in the fact that
you survived,
that what meant to kill you failed
miserably.

NEIGHBORS (Poem)
Welcome to DC,
where we honor Blacks who are dead,
and treat the live ones like ghosts.

THE NEED TO BE LIKED (Poem)
I am divorcing myself from
the need to be liked,
coaxing down forced
church girl smiles

FOR CASSIE
I, too, was a teenaged girl
who fell for an older dude
and realized years later
I was groomed.

OH, BLESSED ALCHEMY
Big flower energy.
Oh, what blessed alchemy
resides within me.

REVISITING LEMONADE (Poem)
I witnessed the healing journey
of a human being, not just a celebrity,
moving from heartache to reconciliation.

VENERATION FOR TONI MORRISON (Poem)
Ancestor Toni taught me to protect my stories and language fiercely,
to be wary of Eurocentric editing and code-switching,
to celebrate the way we speak and our intricacies.

THE SOUNDTRACK TO MY C-SECTION (Poem)
I chose Beyoncé,
wishing to be Sasha Fierce brave
as they strapped my arms down to the table.

LINE SISTER (Poem)
You bleed, I bleed—
our monthlies in sync so we
lust, overeat, bloat and PMS on beat.

LET IT SHINE THROUGH (Poem)
Sis, your soul glow like Darryl. On God.
And how you make it look easy? It’s hard.
When the world burns, they expect us to cook.

AIN’T NOBODY DOPE AS ME AT 14 (Poem)
That night, hip-hop sweet-talked me like
Cadillac driving Southern playas rockin fur coats and gators.
Hot and sticky like the South,
rap lyrics flowed from my mouth.

NEXT STOP (Poem)
Imagine two intellectual Brooklyn backpacker rappers
reciting 1970 words from Queen Toni Morrison
on and 88-Keys produced beat.

THE CLOSEST I EVER FELT TO GOD
Minutes after the radiologist called to inform me that
cancer made a new home in my lymph nodes,
my back yard filled with baby blue birds,
an army of angels singing

THE PEAR TREE (Poem)
What began my obsession with growing things?
Maybe it was being a gifted kid full of curiosity.
Or growing up in a stuffy apartment too small for my dreams.

JUST A SATURDAY NIGHT IN MONTGOMERY (Poem)
It was a regular Saturday at the dock,
the kind where folks come to unwind
and leave the troubles on their minds behind.

SUCCEED (Poem)
I need I need I need I need
discipline and visioning
in order to succeed.
When the chips are thin
I’m hustlin’ in order to succeed.

OH, BALTIMORE (Poem)
‘Twas the month of February in the year 2015
when my child was conceived—
two months before Freddie Gray
lost his life just 45 minutes away.

WHEN YOU’RE SEVENTEEN
U Don’t Know
what you’re doing after school
when you’re seventeen and just seen
two planes crash into buildings
during 3rd period Geometry