F, 1996 - 00 David Harth F, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Found Incest

I was 16 and Fred was 14. We lived on my grandparent’s farm in

California. We had skinny dipped for about a week when one afternoon

we started fooling around in the water. I grabbed his dick and it

got hard.

 

 

Good for you, Betty! Did you make love in the water? Other experiences

during that special summer? It took my cousin and I awhile to get

to that point-kissing, exploring, mutual masturbation, etc.-until

we finally made love one afternoon in my bedroom. After that, we

tried to get together as often as possible.

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.23.22:39:10@296NYC

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

Oma and Opa (Version #5)

My grandparents are dying.

 

 

The Informative Rundown:

 

Opa (Grandfather):

88

Immigrant from Germany

Escaped the Holocaust

Retired Expert Tailor, WWII Veteran

Pace Maker

Triple By-Pass

Prostate

Cataract x 2

Lymph in Tongue Surgery

Stroke x 2 + others

Did not go to the Hospital immediately after the last stroke because he never wants to leave the side of the love of his life

Still, in the midst of it all, he posed in the hospital for his grandson to take a photograph, for art

 

Oma (Grandmother):

85

Immigrant from Lithuania

Mother and Sisters shot in the Holocaust

Retired EKG Technician

Cancer in the leg x 2

Bulging bad eye

Shingles

Can no longer walk, locate the kitchen or remember if I gave her a pill 10

minutes ago

Still, in the midst of it all, makes sure I eat, talks about her grandson

being an artist, and shares my blue eyes

 

Home:

Opera singer floors above can be heard

Awards and certificates hang on the walls

My childhood art hangs on the walls

Dead flowers from the 60th anniversary just one week ago still on the table

The Coo-Coo clock has to be wound up

Medications unorganized and in wrong bottles

Can no longer sign checks or go to the bank or doctor or grocery

Refrigerator filled with delivered meals, bad food, expired milk, bread,

cheese, matzoh and prunes

 

Summary:

He’ll make 90

She’ll make matzoh ball soup and cookies again

Or

I’ll have to write pages and speak.

 

 

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.18.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

00.04.19.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

00.04.20.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

00.04.21.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

00.04.21.03:31:31 @ New York City 296E

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

Satan’s Pride

I walked in

Brain went warm and swelled

I was wet in my mouth and dry in the eyes

The stained glass colors made the thick columns gay

Palms were in my palms

I held them, felt them, but could not sculpt them

 

A crowd gathered

No famous person here

No Hollywood make-believe

No rock-star

 

Calm

Sitting still

Listening

Learning

And feeding on the truth of those before me,

Infront of me, behind me and all around me

 

This is the hour when he triumphed over Satan’s pride

The hour when he can deliver and show me the reason for arches

The hour when my eyes stop twitching

This is the hour when he triumphed over Harth’s pride

The hour when art became true reality

The hour when my palms dropped to the hard wood

 

Organ sound systems

Tight

The scent surrounding

Deep swallowing I roll back

I wish I could turn around and see who is standing at the door

 

I drank a cup of wine

And the invisible man did not show

I drank a cup of wine

And plagued my bread and butter

 

I could not dip

For I might burn

I could not walk

For I might burn

 

But the suicides tell me Ill burn in hell

And the snowfall lit her night and broke glass on the steps

But the beauties tell me to obey

And the men bring the cure

 

This is the hour when he triumphed over Satan’s pride

This is the hour when he triumphed over Harth’s pride

This is the hour

And the hour lasts

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.21.03:23:56@296NYC

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

Oma and Opa (Version #4)

My grandfather had a stroke.

My grandmother doesn’t know where the kitchen is.

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.18.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

00.04.19.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

00.04.20.00:00:00@ New York City 83PTW/296E

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

Making Love (Version #2)

It was perfect

Just after our wine

From the wicker picnic basket

On our fresh down blanket

Upon the grass

Under a great huge oak tree

 

Lying under the stars

In the warm summer night

A slight summer breeze blowing

My fingers running through your hair

 

I was penetrating you with passion

In a steady rhythm over and over

Kissing your lips with desire

And staring into your sparkling eyes

 

The night sky was overhead

Filled with bright stars and constellations

The rustle of the oak leaves could be heard

As we clenched each other’s hands

 

Still, I would grind away

Rub our hips together

As I nibble on your stiff nipples

And trace the contour of your beauty with my tongue

 

Under that lasting nighttime sky

We celebrate together

Our unity and share our affection

Caressing your soft skin and kissing your ears

 

Over and over again

I push inwards and thrust

Bare in the warm summer air

Your breasts pressed firmly against my chest

 

 

It was just perfect

But you were not there

Not your mind nor your body

Not even a trace of your scent

 

And I cried alone

Under the nighttime sky

Under the great oak tree

Wishing you were there

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.14.06:58:02 @ 296 NYC

00.04.14.12:08:56 @ 1515 NYC

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

Making Love

It was perfect

Just after our wine

From the wicker picnic basket

On our fresh down blanket

Upon the grass

Under a great huge oak tree

 

Lying under the stars

In the warm summer night

A slight summer breeze blowing

My fingers running through your hair

 

I was penetrating you with passion

In a steady rhythm over and over

Kissing your lips with desire

And staring into your sparkling eyes

 

The night sky was overhead

Filled with bright stars and constellations

The rustle of the oak leaves could be heard

As we clenched each other’s hands

 

Still, I would grind away

Rub our hips together

As I nibble on your stiff nipples

And trace the contour of your beauty with my tongue

 

Under that lasting nighttime sky

We celebrate together

Our unity and share our affection

Caressing your soft skin and kissing your ears

 

Over and over again

I push inwards and thrust

Bare in the warm summer air

Your breasts pressed firmly against my chest

 

 

It was just perfect

But you were not there

Not your mind nor your body

Not even a trace of your scent

 

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.14.06:58:02 @ 296 NYC

00.04.14.12:08:56 @ 1515 NYC

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A, 1996 - 00 David Harth A, 1996 - 00 David Harth

American Ding Dong in a Cum Bush

I’ve got an American Ding Dong

Circumcised

Size up

Felt up

Felt Velvet

Heat up

Shut up

 

I’ve got a big long Ding Dong

American

Ancient

Roman

Ding-A-Ling

 

It’s been going in and out

These days

Of those summer bushes

Smelly corners

Around the turns

Drive bys

Inner thighs

Summer nights

Cum bushes

 

Sister Remembers

May Remembers

Cemetery Bends

School Days

Outside

Nest Inside

Snuzzle up

Down under

Muffled

American

My lips are behind

In the hiding

Round here

Sugar bee

Wrapped over my knee

Spank! Spank!

I owe you

One-Two-Three!!

 

American Ding Dong

In a Cum Bush

Cum here

Come here

Silly goose!

Coop Shoop Doop

Leap of faith

Doop Deep Dop

Crop Shop Mop

 

I’ve got an American Ding Dong

Standing tall like a flag pole

Just outside

The Cum Bush

On a summer night

Birdies chirping

No-Radio

Breeze blowing

Down the Noun

Down the Neck

 

American Ding Dong

In a Cum Bush

Bent over

Bee hive

Living to thrive

Jive to live

Burn

And squeeze

The juice

 

American Ding Dong

In a Cum Bush

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.09.16:00:00@P.CollectionW.D.C.

00.04.10.14:51:11@1515NYC

00.04.11.01:22:23@296NYC

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G, 1996 - 00 David Harth G, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Give?

I can give you the key for the lock

And I can give you the directions and instructions

I can give you a map that leads to the heart

And I can give you all I’ve got

 

But I can’t give you me.

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.31.16:59:17 @ New York City

00.04.11.00:54:01 @ New York City

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

Brown Paper Bag

I’ve always known

What it was like

To be alone

In the cave of shadows

Being the person whom you only see in a mirror

And wanting

And craving to peel back your skin

And reveal your inner self and inner truth

 

I’ve been in that state

Standing still

For so long

But now with the current warmth

I can no longer hide

I can no longer let my eyes roll back

Because now I’ll let someone else

Inside

And lay my trench coat on the puddle before you

 

Now I can stand in motion

No longer still

But traveling

With a possible

Great big

Brown Paper Bag...

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.30.17:14:44 @ 1515 NYC

00.04.07.03:07:13 @ 296 NYC

Whispers

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

How To Touch A Naked Man

Remember that there is more to me

Beyond my eyes and lips

Touch my navel and the side of my chest

Travel around with

Your tongue

And warm hand

 

Remember my ear

The delicate and intricate curves

Remember my neck

The slender curve and pulse

 

Remember that there is more to me

Beyond just what lies next to you

Run your fingers through my hair

Squeeze and stroke

Push and pull

Whisper and hug

Never be afraid

 

Remember my hands

Grip them and hold them

Remember my lips

Kiss them and taste them

 

Remember that there is more to me

Beyond just an erection

Embrace my warmth next to you

Feel my arms and legs wrap around you

Try the new

And I’ll let you know what feels good

With my shivers

My tongue

My voice

My whispers

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.07.02:48:41 @ 296 NYC

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

Romance (Version #2)

When I smell Romance

  I think of you

When I hear music from Angels

  I think of you

 

When I see the moon

  I think of you

When I hear Christmas Carols

  I think of you

 

When I feel the warmth of the sun

  I think of you

When I see the sunrise and sunset

  I think of you

 

When the tick-tock-clock strikes Eleven O’clock

  I think of you

When I’m in the month of April

  I think of you

 

When I visit God

  I think of you

When I look into the blue sky

  I think of you

 

When I sleep at night

  I think of you

  Tightly wrapped up

  In your blanket and white sheets

 

  Soft

  With baby brown eyes

  And I wish

  That I was next to you...

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.21.17:20:00 @ Miami,USA FLT#640

00.03.24.01:56:00 @ 296 NYC

00.03.29.01:59:00 @ 296 NYC

Whispers

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

Speechless

Speechless

Wordless

Only a Kiss

Can convey my feelings

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.16.10:22:01 @ Q-Train NYC BWAYLAF->TIMESSQ

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G, 1996 - 00 David Harth G, 1996 - 00 David Harth

G & G

It’s like eating a banana

When you are done with it

You have a useless peel

 

Like a string I use for dental floss

Bitten and strapped

I’m going to be a professional Necrophiliac

Don’t you just love it!

 

She had a strap on

And took him by surprise from behind

Kissed around, been around

Out front back-yard big Kong

 

It’s like peanut butter

Gettin’ stuck down your sore throat

Thick skull

Don’t want to be

 

Like a silent lover

Tied down and knotted

Seeing the blind and hearing the deaf

Repair yourself a cafe

 

She had a dream

And took him by surprise in front

Kissed around, been around

Spring day on the lawn

 

And the other ego

Self

He says

It’s like stepping in a bag of shit

Because once you do,

You can never get that shit out between your toes!!

 

Smile, and I’ll always smile with you...

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.10.05:17:15 @ 296 NYC

00.03.11.13:07:23 @ 296 NYC

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

Love (Version #04)

My mouth is full of your love

Your songs play in my heart

And the beauty you hold solved my endless search

 

I wrote your name in the sand

Snow racing across a frozen lake

Silent breath

Whispers

 

 

A man on the radio asked,

“What’s the point of this?”

And continued...

“Maybe just a smile...”

 

Sometimes I follow lyrics

Pay attention

Think about them

 

 

I need that smile

I need that touch

I need that warmth

 

I need it

Because it lets me know

And If I don’t know

Then what do I do?

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.21.16:00:00@NYC

00.02.08.13:15:51@1515NYC

00.03.11.12:46:23@296NYC

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

Heaven Sadness

The overwhelming sadness

The emptiness

Hollow

Inside

 

The depths collapse

And tears become crucial

Fingers can’t even type

Thoughts can’t even transpire

 

The sadness is strong and soft

And spoken with silent words

And the whispers of the glare in your eye

All I can do is say “Hello”

 

Crawl up

Feel the sadness

Penetrate my heart with fools

And attempt to be brave

 

Wrap myself up

In a pretend womb

And cry and cry and cry

Until I become nothing

 

And I tell people

Sometimes I wish I would get sick

And I introduce to people

Sometimes I wish I was my Oma

Dying and blaming and falling apart

Sometimes I wish I was my Grandmother

Dead and six feet under

 

Because there is no comparable pain

To the pain of the ache

And the sadness, the emptiness, the nothingness

You feel after you travel through heaven

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.11.12:29:04 @ 296 NYC

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

Burned

You didn’t touch me

You didn’t come inside

Or hold

You burnt me

Left me to the ashes

Where I might belong

Where maybe I’ll grow

 

You shut off the light

And slept until the next month

Until the daylight

And I was heated

And thrashed

And converted

 

You didn’t let me go

You only showed me the tunnel

With your open palms

That my fire couldn’t engulf

I backed

And backed away

Before you could say something

 

Now I’m burned

Nothing left to ignite

Or start over

Or revive

Relive

 

I’m burned

Dead

 

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.08.17:36:43 @ 1515 NYC

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G, 1996 - 00 David Harth G, 1996 - 00 David Harth

The Great Masturbator

This is a true story.

You have my word.

 

 

8:30pm March 1st 2000

 

I was standing on the uptown platform

At the Broadway/Lafayette subway station

Waiting for the B or D or Q train

 

I was at the very front of the platform

I was in front of the closed-off storage room that blocks the other passengers

From seeing me, and I seeing them

 

The same layout was across the tracks

At the platform for trains going downtown

Into Brooklyn

 

To my surprise

I was being watched by a man

 

He was a light-skinned African American

And his jeans were pulled slightly down

And he had his big dick out

He was masturbating

Jerking off his hard erect dick

As he looked at me

Fascinated

Disturbed

 

I couldn’t believe it

Personally, I’ve known women who have witnessed men masturbating to them

But this was reverse

Weird

The man had his dick out right there

In the open

And he was feverishly stroking his cock

Back and forth!

 

I just stood across on my platform

Staring at his eyes

Letting his imagination run wild

 

Maybe it was great

To have a guy jerk off to the image of me

To raise my ego

He thought I was sexy!

 

My B train came

And I didn’t see or hear

Him cum

 

But odd, As I got on that train

The stench smelled like cum!

 

Must be psychological

And that’s my story.

 

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.03.01.20:30:00@BWAY/LAFAYETTE NYC

00.03.02.10:55:00@CPMC NYC

00.03.02.16:16:00@1515 NYC

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