Never See You Again
As promised
As committed
As agreed upon
As it was written
What if grey clouds told truth?
And I kept each fallen tooth?
What if every time a bell rang I headed down south?
And locusts came out of my mouth?
What if the frozen land consumed me whole?
And my heart was given back to me which you stole?
What if venom was my copulating fluid that you swallowed?
And from now until eternity your shadow was followed?
What if the gates were closed upon arrival?
And your lies prevented you from your own survival?
As promised
As committed
As agreed upon
As it was written
I’ll never see you again
This is our fate
While every human
Will sit around and wait
Waiting for death
And waiting for love
What if the grey clouds told truth?
And I gave you my last breath?
As promised
As committed
As agreed upon
As it was written
Never see you again
© 2013 David Greg Harth
13.02.18.09:41:55@130BklynNYC
Niagara Falls
She was gushing
And she was dripping
Swallowing me whole
And losing control
She was Niagara Falls
I treaded endlessly
Keeping afloat patiently
In her spiraling whirlpool
Nestling inside her crowned jewel
She was Niagara Falls
These waves came crashing down on me
I was the captain of the high sea
With each given thrust a high swell
And an echoing vigorous yell
She was Niagara Falls
Swollen with a sudden rogue wave
Everything soaked, I do crave
She was a tsunami of quivering flow
A spray wetting me from head to toe
She was Niagara Falls
She gave me whiplash and took me for a ride
Releasing the gates and unleashing the flood tide
Pouring with such force that nothing can escape
It is her juices that engulf me with this great damp drape
She was Niagara Falls
She was gushing
And she was dripping
Swallowing me whole
And losing control
She was Niagara Falls
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.12.21.24:00:03@130BklynNYC
No Need For Jongelinck, I Only Need You
Over the course of years
I have walked and wandered and wondered
I have played and prayed and portrayed
I have tried and failed and paid and even got laid
Over the course of years
Beyond these stories and fairytales and hymns
Beyond these sonnets and poems and lyrics
Beyond these written notes, text messages and phone calls
Over the course of years
I was leading something that was so false
But it all comes so clear to me now
I don’t need Jongelinck
I only need you
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.11.16.24:40:32@130BklynNYC
New York
I.
Right now, and here
New York is under threat
But I have no fear
I cannot think of anywhere for me
There is no place else
I’d rather be
I love this city
This tranquil greyness
In all its passionate gritty
I see that beacon of light
Embracing ten years past
Calling me to remembering that sight
When all of humanity looked this way
I smelled the burning of steel and flesh
For weeks to stay
Rare the time to pause or walk slow
This is my New York
Strong and firm we’ll forever grow
II.
I love to be a
Minority on the subway
I love that I could go
A day without speaking
My native language
Reading my native script
Or seeing someone the same race as me
And yet still be at a place I call home
I love these Hindus and Buddhists
Jews and Muslims
Catholics and Protestants
Mormons and Native Americans
I love these Chinese and Japanese
Italians and Irish
Germans and Polish
Mexicans and French
Palestinians and Yemenites
Israelis and Argentineans
Indians and Iranians
I’ve never known love
Until I lived in this city
It’s mangled grids
Of horn honking cabbies
Its unions of construction workers
And mobbed-run bakeries
Its high art in Chelsea
And low in Williamsburg
Its corner Halal carts
And fleet of food trucks
Its underground rats
And over ground roaches
Its green parks and winter storms
Its Dumbo, Tribeca, and NoLita
Its Riverdale, Brighton, and Woodside
Its H&H Bagels, Shake Shack Burgers, and Nathan Hot Dogs
Its Omas & Opas
III.
We are cultural warriors
A fortress of differences
Always united and proud
To be a “New Yorker”
There is no tomb
Id rather be in
But in the tomb of
The grey skyscrapers
And brownstones
That line my city’s streets
When New York falls
The world watches
When New York rises
The world watches
This is not America
This is New York
The city I love
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.09.18.21:11:49@130BklynNYC
Now
Sitting there
Next to my nameless friend
Hearing the orchestra perform
Their instruments echoed through the great hall
Three tiers above the ground floor
I think about jumping off
Thoughts enter as they often do
But for yet another reason I don’t
The canyon is free today
Toothless lady behind us waves a flag
Memorable wed woman wears fishnet stockings
Outside rain gently coats the winter streets
I feel so uncomfortable in my chair
I question to myself, “Is it hot in here?”
My head feels warm.
My clothes are uncomfortable
My throat is sore from my medications
These eyes of mine are burning
I’m hungry, yearning for food
Thirsty, for water, for purity
My insides hurt
I have an itch, a tingle
I begin to scratch
The center of my chest
I no longer hear the music
It’s all irrelevant
I can’t see my nameless friend next to me
I scratch this carnivorous itch
I unbutton my shirt
Placing my hand against my skin
Scratching, scratching, scratching
I feel this burning inside
Rough burlap bags on fire
Spools of barbed wire fighting for position
Vultures pecking at my insides
I must scratch my itch
My fingernails dig deeper
I’m making red streaks across my chest
I scratch at my itch
My itch becomes more powerful
I tear at my flesh
And my skin comes off
The philharmonic ignores me
And I avoid them
I dig
I dig out my flesh
I scratch out my flesh
Until I reach bone
I scratch until I come to my sternum
I pick at it, picking off my flesh
This itch
This constant itch
Blood is on my fingers, on my hand
As I scratch I remove more layers
Scratch and dig deeper
Dig a hole into my bone
Snap my bone
Break and crack
My breast bone splinters
Pieces scatter into the undisturbed stale air
I scratch until I can no longer scratch
I pull out my heart, is itching
I scratch and scratch my heart
I scratch this itching heart
My heart is in the palm of my hand
Still beating, I ask,
What do I do now?
What do I do now?
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.02.25.17:20:05@550NYC
North
Waking up in July has new meaning
I wasn’t expecting to break out of this dreaming
I’ve been with blue and I’ve been with brown
But in your ever-changing hazel I could certainly drown
I’ve been one to write a poem or a lengthy letter
But times like this are so rare, they are so much better
I’ve never started like this at ease
Who knew that you had the keys?
I’ve alerted the sun and I’ve alerted the moon
Each is primed to inspire as I look forward to spoon
I’ve been learning and I’ve been listening
Growing closer, I cancelled my waiting
I’ve even put cupid on hold
As these feelings begin to unfold
I’ve been known to run or duck or dive
But for this one, I’m willing to let it thrive
I’ve never been prepared for such a glow
It is this one I will cherish its grand flow
I’ve opened the door
Now ajar, yearning for more
Waking up in August is missing
It is you that I miss kissing
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.13.01:13:38@130BklynNYC
Not In My Heart
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
In my heart
No dreaming allowed
No occupation could occur
My heart is closed
Its doors are shut
Its locks are turned
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
In my heart
No imagination in motion
No habitation
My heart is closed
Its chambers no longer function
Its flow discontinued
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
In my heart
No romantic gaze enters
No radiating warmth shared
My heart is closed
Its impenetrable borders are up
It’s sealed forever
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
My heart is endlessly closed
Imprisoned from deep within
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.20.23:36:14@130BklynNYC
Nowhere Exodus
Slowly, slight tilt of the head
Slowly, wooden door ajar
Something isn’t right
I’m trying to love you
I’m trying with everything I’ve got
Still, not enough
Slowly, let go of the thread
Slowly, healing my scar
Something isn’t right
I’m trying to listen
I’m trying to hear the words you speak
Still, not heard
Slowly, rising out of bed
Slowly, following the North Star
Something isn’t right
I’m trying to confront
I’m trying with all my ability
Still, never moving
Slowly, beyond the coast I tread
Slowly, waters rise above my head
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.08.08.02:32:53@130BklynNYC
Nothing Keeps
It never remains the same
There is no reason
Everything changes
Seasons, people, objects
Things move, grow, morph
Things are removed, replaced, reconstructed
Skies are grey, blue, orange
Trees are different
Everything is always old
Or new
Bought, sold, borrowed, stolen
Liberty given, taken
Found with pleasure, neglect
You are my metropolis
My industrial animals
My man-made horizon
My falling freedom
Here, oh here
Nothing keeps
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.09.20.15:36:00@EastRiverNYCQ
Not Really, Not Real, Missing
It wasn’t real
Only a temporary situation
It will be resolved when the moment is over
Like a dream she came and went
If only I remembered my teeth and wishbones
Bones
Making July love
Heated extravaganza
Yelling matches
Fist punches
Thirsty for a beverage
Down by the sea
Flying East
I’m hit against the head
With a shovel, a fork, a sickle, a tuna hook
Memory is now served
Flush it down
Worries aside
Making happiness is beautiful
Forgetting your name
I drag myself up and out
Exiting the room, I look behind
One more glance, one more stare
Without a lasting scent
She is gone, she is gone
Last year’s place of birth
Today’s traveling sensation
Observed the tower falling
Enter my room
Pull the trigger against the village
I survive the pulling
Not really
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.07.11.09:38:02@296NYC
No Stopping
Earth can stop rotating
Constellations can stop appearing in the night sky
The sun can stop casting shadows
The moon can stop shining after dark
Trees can stop emanating oxygen
Leaves can stop changing colour
Oceans can stop crashing their tides
Wind can stop drifting wished upon eye lashes
Birds can stop their migration
Spiders can stop spinning their webs
Children can stop playing with their rocking horse
Grandmas can stop baking chocolate chip cookies
Pastors can stop officiating
Rabbis can stop praying
Secrets can stop being hidden
Dreams can stop occupying your sleep
Poets can stop writing
Artists can stop painting
Memories can stop being remembered
Futures can stop being predicted
My love for you,
— will never stop
© 2007 David Greg Harth
07.01.11.03:07:14@296NYC
Nothing To See Here
“Keep moving, keep moving,” said the patrol officer.
Someone asked, “What happened?”
The patrol officer repeated, “Keep moving, keep moving, there is nothing to see here.”
He added another part to the sentence he previously stated.
Each passerby attempted to glance down the street, but they saw nothing.
It wasn’t until the next day,
Newspaper headlines divulged just what happened,
Down the dark street that evening.
David Greg Harth, dead at 31.
Articles try to explain how the young emerging artist died.
The reporters did their research.
They found reasons and faults and works of art.
But there was one answer they could not find.
© 2007 David Greg Harth
07.01.08.22:41:05@296NYC
Nibble
I’ll nibble at your neck
and I’ll nibble at your belly
I’ll nibble on your elbow
and I’ll nibble at your knee
I’ll nibble at your lower back
and I’ll nibble on your foot
I’ll nibble on your ear
and I’ll nibble on your lips
I’ll nibble on your breasts
and I’ll nibble on your nose
I’ll nibble on your fingers
and I’ll nibble between your legs
© 2007 David Greg Harth
07.01.04.09:53:00@205HudsonNYC
Not Like This
It doesn’t end.
It won’t end like this.
The story I’m a part of,
The life I live,
Doesn’t end like this.
It still has to unfold,
Take turns,
Bend curves,
Go up mountains,
And down hills.
I’ve heard the heartbeat.
Beating like a drummer’s drum,
And singing like a choir’s hum.
I’ve heard the words spoken.
From your soft rose lips,
And from the gyration of your hips.
I’ve heard the flight of doves.
Flying above the trees that rustle,
And flying with a patriotic whistle.
I’ve heard ghosts in shadows.
Drifting in out of the corner,
And drifting lovers to the altar.
It doesn’t end,
Not until its accomplished.
Not until bread meets wine.
And wine touches my mouth.
It doesn’t end.
Not like this.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.12.01.17:02:00@205HudsonNYC
Ni3
I loved her like I never loved a woman before.
Her green eyes. Her full lips. Her soft skin.
So much perfection. Even her song. Her humming.
She was like the storybook story.
Driven by the radiating light of beauty.
Whispers were exchanged. We made love together.
My heart never ached. My heart never opened.
Yet still, something was eating at us inside.
It was only abandonment she left me with.
Now she is gone and I have nothing.
Eternal search for no more religions.
Except that of myself, and you, my love whom I adore.
She now resides in the land of abundant trees.
Penetrating my mind on the late evening hour.
Without warning she enters like a drifting ghost.
It wasn’t until I met her that my beliefs started to exist.
Now she is long gone dead.
Something still resides, my heart yet filled.
I was swallowed and lost in the keys she left.
Gone without a trace, not even a word spoken or written.
The fire that once engulfed us, burnt out like a silent mute.
The moon has risen in the skyline many nights since.
Nuzzled in the nest I provided; she provoked my yearning.
Now is the time she called out my name.
First, not last.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.03.31.03:24:26@296NYC
No Longer
Existing is not something I can do anymore.
There is nothing I could have done.
I apologize for my untimely death.
Growing weak of the daily routine.
It made me hateful of life.
I ached for multiple rounds of ammunition.
To be bludgeoned by alienating amputation devices.
And hit by city buses which carried low-wage workers to their offices.
I am without a home and without a heart.
Standing here witnessing injustice is wrong.
I’d only bleed indefinitely if I stayed one more day.
So, the last day has come.
Tomorrow once again
Wishing for a tidal wave of thorns to penetrate my heart.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.03.07.13:26:00@205HudsonNYC
No One
My love is gigantic.
Larger than a long gone prehistoric reptile.
Greater than a sailing blue whale.
My love is cosmic.
Stretches far past these terrestrial galaxies.
Beyond the suns and the moons.
My love is wind.
Soaring and swirling with nineteenth century clouds.
To carry you throughout your life.
My love is fiery.
It is an ignition.
Fuel to light cities across the planet.
My love is heroic.
A shield to protect the aged and the ill.
The weak and the poor.
My love is honorable.
The heart I possess has been bludgeoned.
Coat of arms is yours.
My love is an empire.
Searching wide and far.
To give all to its rightful Queen.
My love is passionate.
Dedicated to the pleasure of my lover.
External and internal; body and mind.
My love is everything.
It is what makes me continue.
Makes my heart pulsate.
But I have no one to give my love to.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.12.19.01:06:05@296NYC
North Dakota
Love is in the air,
for I’ve bitten your lip,
your blood flows,
falls, scrolls,
drowning my tears
in your gown of thorns
Love is in my step,
for I’ve kneeled before you
your outstretched arm
gently caressed
my virgin head
Love is beneath you,
I sit worshipping
between your legs
panting like a wet black dog
from across the Styx
Love is stolen,
straight from the cabinet
wooden ornaments misplaced
silent souls escaped
my heart pounds for you
Love is lost,
I shrivel in the light of the day
dust is what I become
as you forbid me to love you
with a thickness of gore
in the wound under thy breast
Love has died,
your soft skin never against mine
I fade into the darkness
the downward spiral of the abyss
never to love
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.04.22.04:32:58@296NYC
A Note to You
the moon reflects
on the ripples in the water
I see you peeking
in and out
you keep me hidden
only to discover
I’ve been inside of you
all this time
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.04.24.19:10:25@296NYC