R, 1996 - 00 David Harth R, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Red Stadium Light

Red stadium light

Penetrated you and I

 

She was silhouetted

All I can see was bright light

 

Tingle through my veins

Blood boiling

 

Warmth from the blast

She was dancing high above

 

Standing on the chairs

Facing forward towards the light

 

Grooving, Powerful, Feeling

Falling from airplanes

Catching yourself in the net of love

 

Reaching, Holding her

My hand on her waist

From behind

 

Red stadium light

It ignited us

Made my flames burn

Made my tears think

Made my feet tumble from underneath me

 

Red stadium light

Rained down upon me

Blue sky overnight

Warm air breathed in

 

She danced in front of me

Like fire in the wind

Like sails in the sea

Like dandelions in the field

 

Red stadium light

It bounced all around us

My head down in shame

Leaving with nothing

 

I saw the insides

I explored

I had my twist

I had my time

 

Now all I can do is walk away

Walk out

Before it’s too late

Before you go

Before the red light goes down

Before the sky turns to dawn

 

Now all I can do is walk towards you

Walk in

After you have given

After you came

After the red light goes down

After the stars go to sleep

 

But before I go

Or after I go

Know this

The red light is always on

The stadium lights are always on

Until a box is let loose

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.02.08.13:09:33 @ 1515 NYC

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I, 1996 - 00 David Harth I, 1996 - 00 David Harth

I’m Broken

I’m broken

I’m defeated

I’m lost

 

I’m in the negative dust now

Surrounded by cold darkness

In the ache of a larger heart

 

I can’t save myself

Can’t perform

Can’t climb out

Or dig out of the grave

 

I’m broken

I’m defeated

I’m lost

 

This is just a dream

A big wet dotted grid

A battle of redness

I’m swollen now

 

Cracked

Hit

Smacked

 

I’m on the railroad

I’m hitchhiking across the U.S.A.

I’m nobody

I’m nothing

 

I’m broken

I’m defeated

I’m lost

 

My eyes blink

My arms move

My knees give in

And lose my balance and fall

 

Should I stay or go?

Maybe I’ll just become a fool

Time after time

Hurt

 

Outreached hand

Bloody palm

From aching heart

And tears of hope

 

I’m broken

I’m defeated

I’m lost

 

I’m limp

I’m numb

I’m crying alone

 

I’m dirt

I’m disgusted

I’m wasted

 

I’m drunk

I’m a doormat

I’m shattered

 

I’m smoking now

I’m a disease

I’m a singer of tears

 

I’m walking in circles

I’m a circular saw blade

I’m burnt into ashes

 

Thinking hurting

Challenged

Given up

 

Controlled

Poured

Should have remained silent

 

I’m broken

I’m defeated

I’m lost

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.02.06.10:20:15@296

00.02.07.17:28:41@1515

00.02.08.11:37:07@1515

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O, 1996 - 00 David Harth O, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Oma and Opa (Version #3)

I stopped everything

 To go watch my grandmother die

 

I took the A train uptown to 207th St

 And walked up the street where the black squirrels ran

 

Three children were sledding down the snow covered hill

 In laundry baskets, sleds, and cookie sheets

 

How could someone be so depressed and sad

 When children play just outside?

 

 

I found my grandmother laying in the chair

 Still and motionless

 Not knowing I was there

I bent down

 And held her hand

 It was cold and veiny, filled with spots from the liver

She awoke to my warm touch and smile

 

Her grey hair had not been washed in days

Her whiskers on her cheek unclipped

Her leg swollen from where the cancer was carved away

Her depression making her hunch-back and stiff

 

Her wrinkles competing with her fragile structure

Her blue eyes still as powerful as my own

Her tears salty to the glance

Her heart still beating from the love

 

I delivered my words

As much as I could

Of hope and strength

 

 

Awards and certificates line the walls

 Old portraits and photographs too

My artwork from when I was little

 And articles about my grandfather’s favorite Democrats

 

The door knobs still have crystal on them

The door frames still arched

The couch still covered in plastic

The candy dish still on the round coffee table

 

My grandparents wearing their old clothes

From so many years ago

I don’t even know what is hip

In or out

 

The bed was unmade

Easier access perhaps

The dishes were clean

There was an overabundance of food from Meals-On-Wheels

 

 

She can no longer walk

Or go to the toilet alone

No more cookies for me

No more smiles on her face

 

She can no longer breathe sunny air

Afraid to go to doctors

Taking numerous pills a day, an hour

She sits and cries

 

All she can say

Is that God is punishing her

And never forget about her Five sisters and Mother

Murdered by the Nazis

As she escaped

And ran away

From Lithuania

 

 

As the sun came down today

They will not let me take the subway home

We order a car service

Arriving on time

 

They pack me full of different goodies

Fruit and Milk mainly

They have so much they cannot finish

Instead of rotting, they send it with me

 

Sometimes, as I see those pears rot in their kitchen

I make direct associations, and see them

 

 

Oma still lives

But,

What do I do now?

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.02.05.03:00:00 @ 83PTW NYC

00.02.05.22:56:05 @ 296E NYC

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S, 1996 - 00 David Harth S, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Snowfall

It’s 1am

And I’m wandering these old streets

   of lower Manhattan

The gentle snow is cascading down

Each flake is reflected

   in the yellow light of the lamppost

I walk on the snow covered

   cobble stone roads

I see the whiteness forever

   settling on the red brick buildings

   bordering these street labyrinths

 

It’s cold in the air

   I can see my breath

But all around

   I feel warm

The snow falls on my hair

   Covers my jacket

   And lays upon my soft lips

 

Everywhere I look

   Snow falls in patterns of joy

   In a hurry to fall and land

They land on window sills

   And on parked cars

   Even on dogs walking by

They land on my feet

   And on my ears

   Even on the space between my upper lip and nose

 

I see all this beautiful snow

It blankets the city down

And I smile

   How could I not think of you

   When I see such beauty in this world?

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.02.04.04:47:43@296NYC

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I, 1996 - 00 David Harth I, 1996 - 00 David Harth

If You Let Me In

Your lips

Penetrated my armor suit

What am I to do?

If you let me in

If you let me in

 

I remain silent

Wishing

Not knowing

 

My guard falls down

I’ve been strong for years

Solid with concrete walls

Huge doors and locks

 

Your lips

Penetrated my armor suit

What am I to do?

If you let me in

If you let me in

 

I circle your navel with my tongue

Wondering

Not feeling

 

My eyes look up at the darkness

It’s all I can do

Until you let the warmth come out

And I can hold you tightly

 

Your lips

Penetrated my armor suit

What am I to do?

If you let me in

If you let me in

 

I engulf your body and mind at times

Drowning

Not experiencing

 

My heart beats

I know I’ve been evil

But my truth keeps me alive

And your beauty makes me want to be alive

 

Your lips

Penetrated my armor suit

What am I to do?

If you let me in

If you let me in

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.02.03.03:43:50@296NYC

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D, 1996 - 00 David Harth D, 1996 - 00 David Harth

dhubpup (Poopsie the Rooster & Fluffernutter)

Poopsie Whoopsie Woopsie Doo!

I fell on my bottom

Oh boy oh booty do!

 

Rooster Goose I once knew a Moose

A mouse in a house of course

 

Cutsie Poototsie Plus

Whacky Wacky Wacked-A-Roo

Whimped Wump Woo

 

Barefooten frook-a-doo!

 

Guess What?

Chicken Butt!

Shut my mut til my smut gut lut

Shrink brink dink sink mink

link a kink a rink a fool!

 

Banana Peanut Butter

Fluffernutter shutter

OOOOooooooooooooo

 

April Fresh

Don’t want to make a mess

How about less stress better be ness!

 

Big boss moss

Lost a sea a man at frost

 

She shore sunny day

Maybe today maybe tomorrow

Hay day, Hey La La!

 

Whacky Whacked Whack-a-Roo

Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!

Jack Smack Pack my Rat

Jack Rack Duck my chin

Dine Mine Rhine o Rhyme!

Deep Deeper Deepest Dope

 

Poopsie Whoopsie Woopsie Doo!

I fell on my bottom

Oh boy oh booty do!

Now what do I do??

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.27.03:57:17@296NYC

00.02.03.03.20:12@296NYC

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I, 1996 - 00 David Harth I, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Instruct The User

a. instruct the user how to properly use the usage

 

b. use the used instructions while using

 

c. instruct the using to use the usage

 

d. use the usage while applying pressure

 

e. instruct the proper amount of applied pressure while being used by the user

 

f. instruct the specifications of each individual user to their applied usage

 

g. use the used while being used only if its applied properly

 

h. instruct each use to be used in a manner other than pure usage

 

i. instruct the user how to properly manage each use when used

 

j. use the users instructions to properly learn the specific usages

 

k. instruct each user to use the usage within the limits of being used

 

l. use the users use

 

m. use the use of the users used

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.29.01:45:00@14ST7THAVENYC

00.01.29.13:19:00@296NYC

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Misery

I hope I get sick again

To get me out of my misery

 

It’s a bad plea

But it will be a success for both of us

 

I’ll wake up in the new

Different features

Different water fountains

 

You’ll forget about me

As I remain silent for days and weeks

Even months

 

You’ll move on

Go forward

Forget about the past

 

I’ll be ill

But I won’t be in pain

Never the pain that I experience

When alive with the ache

 

I hope I get sick again

So, I can count the tiles

And watch the Jags roll in

And eat hospital food

 

I hope I get sick again

To be punished for sins of not knowing

To live it up once again

And dream the wildest dreams

 

I hope I get sick again

It brings the distant closer

Near death

And it will make me soft

 

Hiding and never coming out

You can see me

But you’ll never see through me

And you’ll never see me

 

But in my mind

I’ll have a lasting memory

Of what could have been

If I wasn’t in misery

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.29.03:45:00@14ST7THAVENYC

00.01.29.13:11:00@296NYC

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S, 1996 - 00 David Harth S, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Sexually Explicit Uncomfortable-ality

I thrust my cock deep inside of her pussy.

She sucked my cock.

Deep throat.

I fucked her hard.

I ate her out.

I finger-fucked her.

I penetrated her young innocence

I cummed on her face.

She fucked me hard.

She licked my cock.

I tit-fucked her.

I sucked her.

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.28.02:00:00 @ New York City

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B, 1996 - 00 David Harth B, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Bagpiper

Blow me into the heaven I belong

Make me feel the pain that I have caused

Demonstrate the suffering I only dreamed of

Become the death beat in my pulse

 

Remind me of my father’s love

Listen to my buffalo thoughts roam

Tear open my skin and reveal my truths

Prevent me from eating the disease

 

Make me shiver in the coldness of tonight

Deliver your message with more conditions and rules

Show me the reflection of the past and image of the future

Become the agony from which I cry from

 

Get lost with my soul and make me beg for life

Reach for the sockets that hold my art sight

Make me wash my clothes continuously and never remain with the blood

Become my fallen teeth nightmare and crack me

 

Settle the upwards issue

Blow to my brains that will be televised

Let the hollow hole bring light to the earth from which a flower does not grow

Restore my history with your learned beauty

 

Stare at my darkness and hidden causes

Make me think about swallowing and never do

Feed me to the pit and make me never decompose

Cut loose the ties which bound me to my beliefs

 

Make a run for the silent hills

Make me shackled and naked and false

Make me love until I ache in fetal pain

And forget about me as I become my gorgeous depersonalized self

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.12.23:16:36 @ 296 NYC

00.01.19.01:07:16 @ 296 NYC

00.01.27.04:19:03 @ 296 NYC

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I, 1996 - 00 David Harth I, 1996 - 00 David Harth

I’m Getting Married

Who here wants to meet me in

Las Vegas

For a weekend

 

For the sole purpose

To get married in a drive-thru wedding chapel

 

In the name of art

 

Then burn the papers

And be ourselves again

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.25.15:35:38 @ 1515nyc

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L, 1996 - 00 David Harth L, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Love (Version #05.2)

I am no rockstar

And I am not a musician

There are no instruments that I can play

But I will take my poetry

And whisper in your ear gently

 

I am no actor

And I am not famous to the crowds

There are no films with my personality

But I will cradle you in our own private Hollywood

And we will ignite our flames as much as we should

 

I am no athlete

And I am not a child’s hero

There are no advertisements endorsed with my image

But I will create my own art for you

And wish to see you in our glowing hue

 

I am no politician

And I am not head of state

There are no monuments in my name

But I will follow our path as it turns

And witness the desire as it burns

 

I am no model

And I am not built like a strong-man

There are no magazines that have my physique

But I will work on the strengths I bare

And show you how much I care

 

I am no doctor

And I am not an expert in saving

There are no medical miracles performed by me

But I will be at your side

And give you all the love I can provide

 

I am no science engineer

And I am not a winner of genius awards

There are no students under my arm

But I will construct a bridge across sea and land

And always be willing and wanting to hold your hand

 

I am me

And that’s all I’ll ever be

There are only truths and warmths that

Hide behind my blue eyes

And that’s the best Me I can offer

For my love

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.24.10:08:00@I95Exit109B

00.01.24.23:12:00@296NYC

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L, 1996 - 00 David Harth L, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Love (Version #05)

I am no rockstar

And I am not a musician

There are no instruments that I can play

 

I am no actor

And I am not famous to the crowds

There are no films with my personality

 

I am no athlete

And I am not a child’s hero

There are no advertisements endorsed with my image

 

I am no politician

And I am not head of state

There are no monuments in my name

 

I am no model

And I am not built like a strong-man

There are no magazines that have my physique

 

I am no doctor

And I am not an expert in saving

There are no medical miracles performed by me

 

I am no science engineer

And I am not a winner of genius awards

There are no students under my arm

 

I am me

And that’s all I’ll ever be

There are only truths and warmths that

Hide behind my blue eyes

And that’s the best Me I can offer

For my love

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.24.10:08:00@I95Exit109B

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B, 1996 - 00 David Harth B, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Black Cars

I ain’t nothin’

I’m scrap

I’m trash

My sign is nothing

My image is nothing

 

My style is stolen

My behavior is imitated

My look is manufactured

 

I ain’t nothin’

I’m low

I’m invisible

 

They don’t notice me

They don’t consider me

They don’t allow me

They don’t acknowledge me

They don’t follow me

They don’t fondle me

 

I ain’t nothin’

I’m a no body

I’m worthless

I’m a piece of dung

 

I’m not heard

I’m not sought

I’m not reported

I’m not stalked

I’m not felt

 

I ain’t nothin’

I don’t have a voice

I don’t have a friend

I don’t have a telephone

I don’t have a white glove

I don’t have a back door

 

I ain’t nothin’

Because I don’t travel in black cars

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.21.24:59:00@296NYC

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H, 1996 - 00 David Harth H, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Hate Me

Don’t hate me because

I said I would end all famine

And did not

 

Don’t hate me because

I said I would make love to you last night

And did not

 

Don’t hate me because

I said I would go to battle

And did not

 

Don’t hate me because

I said I would kiss you

And did not

 

Don’t hate me because

I said I would introduce myself

And did not

Don’t hate me because

I said I would not lie

And I did

 

Don’t hate me because

I said I would not get sick again

And I did

 

Don’t hate me because

I said I would not reach out or open

And I did

 

 

Hate me because

I do not know who you are

or what you want

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.16.12:00:00@AVA

00.01.19.01:00:00@NYC

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N, 1996 - 00 David Harth N, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Never Been

I don’t want to lose my faith

I just picked up my electronics

I don’t want to lose my laundry

Or follow the suit or be in trouble

 

I don’t want to be left in the sea

And have salt solidify around my tears

 

I don’t want to lose my brother

I just picked up today’s news

I don’t want to eat the pig

Or listen to the radio or be in sight

 

I don’t want to be molded in plastic

And have photographers at my funeral

 

I don’t want to hear the bagpipes

Or play with puzzles made of gold

I don’t want to hear your voice

Or play games with your mind

 

I don’t want to hear you on the telephone

Or swallow your spit at night

I don’t want to hear your children’s story

Or be your partner in crime

 

I don’t want to burn the ants or watch them crawl

I don’t want to eat your lunch or borrow your money

I don’t want to be a rich man’s lover

Or grow old in disbelief

 

I don’t want an eagle feather

Or be documented and remembered

I don’t want rope around my neck at a thin age

Or for you to be sorry in your lonesome

 

 

I have warm hands for the holding

I have a heart filled with steel

I have a thick head filled with dreams

That never come out in positive white

 

I have been influenced

I have been in a coma

I have been back and around

But I’ve never been with you

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.11.04:22:25 @ 296 New York City

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#, 1996 - 00 David Harth #, 1996 - 00 David Harth

9 O’clock

Underneath the table

Her warm hands were rubbing my thighs

The bar was stale with old-age smoke

 

The red-light candle was burning

In front of my face, ill

There was a beat on the system

 

Underground a train would rumble by

Ladies flirting at the table top

Minds wondering and smiles exchanged

 

All I could focus on

All I could dream about

And get lost in

Your eyes

 

Put the thick dust away

The sounds, the noises, the bull

I see you through the curtain of iron

The blinds of war

 

It’s you I’ve been searching for

I’ve been waiting for

For the look in your eyes

And warmth of your touch

 

Underneath the table

The air is no longer stale

I’m holding your hand

 

Can you feel the warmth?

The kindness?

The realism?

 

Nothing bad today

Nothing ill

Nothing wrong

 

Just our eyes locking

Just ourselves getting lost

In the minds and warmth of each other

 

Forget about the tonic-stained wooden floor

The cast-iron ceiling and dimly lit yellow lights

Forget about the juke box playing songs of the like

The coasters holding up the drunks and beauties

 

Forget about the dirty bathroom and overflowed toilet

The beer labels stuck on walls and youngsters believing

Forget about the fried potatoes and beefcake bouncer

The pushed breasted bar tender and slick stud of yonder

 

Right now, the moment is for us

All of us

Every part of our hearts

As we share and intertwine our flame

At 9 O’clock

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.09.20:39:09 @ 296 New York City

00.01.11.02:08:38 @ 296 New York City

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O, 1996 - 00 David Harth O, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Oma and Opa (Version #2)

I never thought

I would have a hunched-back grandmother

She shuffles her feet

Moving slowly from worn-out carpeted room to the next

Still on the same green

 

My grandfather struggles

Taking care of two

Organizing the week’s pills and drugs

Dropping hot coffee from strokes

Not remembering

I get offered fake cream cheese

Its Jalapeno-flavored by mistake

 

I visit my grandparents

Once or twice a month

I should more

As I watch them die before my eyes

Slowly

Age into a cold fragile bony lifeless full of love

 

The smell of bad breath I can’t get away from

Because I admit to a certain warmth I have for them

They visited me every day

And I can’t commit to each weekend or each month

I can’t support and call her an ass and we don’t understand

 

She saw her sisters shot

He never saw his brother in Africa

Years of photographs bring tears and stains

 

The stained plastic Tupperware

stained of chicken-matzoh-ball-soup, lox, and tuna fish

I get fed and care packages to take home to my bachelor pad

They die and I eat

I can’t even commit to a god they want

 

My grandfather can’t walk

But never sheds a tear for his strength is what makes him stone

His eyebrows grow like wild bushes and firestorm feeding brush

His eyes after surgery old and aging his cheek permanent with an accent

Thick of Germany

His pacemaker beats

She wets

 

I don’t know when their last bath was

Or if she looks like wonderfully aged Chinese woman I once saw at the New Museum

No more cookies, no recipe, some thin mints and M&Ms

Old, falling apart, deteriorating, bucket of bones cold and white

 

Their plastic has covered that couch for years

I wonder when they will take it off?

When one dies?

To be more comfortable

To feel the fabric of that couch?

Not the plastic sticking to your arms and legs and thighs?

Is the plastic an insecurity?

We protect the home from which we live, but we never fully live?

 

Is it their god that makes them cry?

Or makes them strong?

Does he pray for his mother each evening?

Or does he now pray for his wife?

As he once did for me?

 

Opera singers scream throughout the apartment

Some live, some radio

Some next door

And the green plants flourish

Or die

Never once did I see a bug

Or bullet, only a sword and an award

 

My grandparents are dying

Before my eyes

I want to hold them

I want to save them

I want to wrap them up in gauze and make them Egyptian art

I want to get the recipe

I want to show them my dead deer, my 9INE, my cats, my fat

 

My grandfather has held my hand

He has witnessed me in pain

In horror

In the nude

In the realness of the most fake state imaginable

 

I must have gotten my bright blue eyes

And blonde hair from her

Her blue eyes

As intense as mine

She taught me the language of her god

He taught me the gift of life

Now if I can only find someone to give that gift to

I’d make them happy, if they followed their god

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

99.12.24.23:13:12 @ 296

00.01.03.20:33:33 @ 296

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N, 1996 - 00 David Harth N, 1996 - 00 David Harth

New Year’s Eve 99-2000

All I can feel is emptiness inside

Feel my shadow crawling

Up my empty stomach

 

Past Christmas lights of

Green and White

Reflect on the river Liffey

 

Green hovering lights

Illuminate O’Connell bridge

And I remember the taste

Of Guinness just one night before

 

The sounds of whistles and horns

And delighted drunk happiness

All invades the air

Waiting for slow fireworks in the night sky

 

Camera flashes pop and go off

As I smell the scent of wood burning

And salt sea

And alcohol last night

 

But now

Lost once again

Deeply wondering

On a cold-warm wet

December night

 

Wonder if I’ll wake up tomorrow

No fear of Millennium

Or Technology or Harm

Just want to know

If I will be me tomorrow

Or just my reflection and

A cold dark empty stare

 

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.12.31.21:57:00 @ Dublin Ireland Alongside the Liffey River

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