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

I Am

I Am Sold.

I Am Corporate.

I Am Used.

I Am The Devil.

I Am Now.

I Am All Your Ears.

I Am A Number.

I Am A Meaning.

I Am Here.

I Am Sighted.

I Am Improved.

I Am Welcomed.

I Am Cut.

I Am Raw Fed.

I Am Recent.

I Am Breakfast.

I Am Clothed.

I Am Devoured.

I Am Feeling.

I Am Thinking.

I Am Someone’s.

I Am An Eyebrow.

I Am Exploring.

I Am Time.

I Am An Event.

I Am Silence.

I Am A Hostage.

I Am Stolen.

I Am Machinery.

I Am A Navel Fetishist.

I Am Sinking.

I Am Deeper.

I Am Destroyed.

I Am New Material.

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.10.11:30:00@NYC1515

98.08.13.12:00:00@NYC1515

98.08.17.13:00:00@NYC1515

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

Fixed

Operator

Give me the drugs

Let me sleep tonight

And not wake up tomorrow

Let me hear knocks at the door

And shoot me up with morphine

So I cant see her beauty

Or hear her laugh

 

Surgeon

Transplant my heart

I need a snake’s coldness

Let me violently whip around

And never be able to hug her again

Or if, so ever

 

Donor

Give me your eyes

So, a new set can be held

And I’ll never have the pain of thinking about her

 

Nurse

Wash me down

So, I can forget about my beliefs

Show me the view

To translate my horrors

Take me downtown

To get tests that reveal my truths

 

Security

Restrain me

So I wont break glass down your chest

So I wont cry myself to sleep

Cradiling my head in my arms

 

Flowers

Send yourself to me

Because when I’m with you I forget about her

And I’d like to absorb the scent from which you grow

And I’d like to remember you

As the lasting image of beauty

not her

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.16.03:49:00@NJ07430

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P, 1996 - 00 David Harth P, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Plastic

Spread wide open

Let me slide

Spend and get lost

 

Twice is better

Cost more

I am money

Control me with your feelings

 

Rent me

Lubrication is not necessary

Watch me

 

I remember you

You were here before

Discount activated

 

Wait -

You did not come here before

You just come and go

You left

 

Stay right there for a minute

Apply now

Some heavy pressure

Feel the breathing

 

That’s a big one!!

Double that!!

Color fabricated for your perfect desire

 

It’s kind of like a toy

Remember link-n-logs and tinker-toys?

Putting things together

It’s all making sense

cents

 

Enter

At your own risk

Debt my ass

 

Breeze

Whipped

Check

Stroked in your wallet

Marked

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.14.23:41:40@NYCNJ

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

ArtOfficial

I am cool christ

a superstar

space junk and cardboard plastic

a fan

for pure amusement

 

Constantly I rush

straight into carriages of carrying bottles

and mommy said this, and mommy said that!

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.14.23:36:00@NJ07430

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

Surrender Your Hostage

duck

dive down

in

 

handcuff me

to an old metal kitchen chair

make me drunk

 

become a talked about secret

and the frontpage news

 

eat a red cherry

from my sweating lips

 

and become a story teller

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.13.22:54:00@ Rt17 Ramsey NJ

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

2 Pussies/2 Pussys

2 Pussys sitting at the pool

One with four

One with two legs

 

One pussy winks at me

The other is my lover

 

One pussy,

Her legs are spread wide open

For the sun to invade

 

The other pussy

Is sipping

In the sunshine

 

One pussy’s

Nipples are stiff

And licks her lips

While staring at me

 

The other pussy

Rolls around

Acting like a

Pussy cat in bed

 

One pussy

Is clean shaven

And smooth

 

The other pussy

Is furry in all the right places

And oh, so soft!

 

Both pussys

Let their lover mount them

And enjoy the pleasure

 

Both pussys

Struggle and twist

At the sight of my gaze

 

One pussy

Walks to the water

The other

Pussy walks towards me

 

Now

I have a pussy

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.09.22:14:00@Bermuda

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

The Laughter Of Life

This is my life

Find the humor

 

I was defense

I marched in parades

 

I drive over the speed limit

With a great big smile

Knowing she’s at my side

 

This is my life

The one who I want

She does not give a damn

The one who wants me

I hate

The one I need

Doesn’t exist

Laugh

 

I spend dollars on art

Because I need too

 

To prevent lovers from hating each other

No one understands

The thin line

Of an artist’s life

Laugh

 

Sometimes I wish

Other times I seek

Sometimes I wait

Other times I fall

 

But all in all

It’s a mystery

 

They think I want

A beauty queen

An art freak

A lover

A human

Laugh

 

I get more romance

With my cat

And the moon

 

Then I do with

You

Or a paintbrush

Laugh

 

They think I need a shoulder

To cry upon

 

Reality

I offer my shoulder

For all of you

Laugh

 

I’ve been ticketed

I’ve been in jail

I’ve been an exhibitionist

I’ve been in love

I’ve been rescued

I’ve been hurt

I’ve been afloat

I’ve been flying

I’ve been under water

I’ve been upside down

I’ve been fetal

I’ve been dancing

I’ve been going down

I’ve been returned

I’ve been burned

I’ve been sucked

I’ve been forgotten

I’ve been mailed

I’ve been lost

I’ve been sleeping

I’ve been wanted

I’ve been yours

Laugh

 

I’ve been laughed at

I’ve laughed with

I’m a laugher

Come feel ridiculous with me...

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.09.22:08:00@WhiteSands Bermuda

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

235

A man without an ear

Was photographing my face

His left ear was bandaged

With ivory white gauze

And no trickles of blood

His flash would go off

Replicating my self

My features

My ears

He was an elder man

With greying hairs

And an aged-wisdom look

Dressed in slacks of burnt sienna

And a light weight top

Photographing me

...As if I was unaware of the events

...The past

At 235 he got Brazilian

At 130 a break from the day

He got kisses and luxury cigar smoking ladies

At 235 he was half-a-man

At 130 a traffic light shadow

A Van Gough look-a-like

Amusing himself to death

Around central neon

And upward steps

Laughter paid

The illegals scattered

The reggae made old stiff

And young, younger

At 235 he was sorry

At 130 better

© 1998 David Greg Harth

1998.08.09.00:00:00@FrontSt/WhiteSands Bermuda

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W, 1996 - 00 David Harth W, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Washed Away

My girlfriend passed away

Just two years ago

To this very same day

 

As I stood there

It was just after dusk

About 8:30pm as I stood on the beach at Grape Bay

 

In the lighted darkness

I watched the moonshine ripple

On the waves that rolled

Upon the sandy shore in front of me

 

Slowly the waves washed away

The set of footprints

Left over by two lovers walking by

 

Behind me in the tropical bush

I heard the orchestra of tree frogs

Chanting songs of harmony

 

I stood there

Staring out into the ocean

Thinking about her

 

With a stick I found on the beach

I carved her name into the grainy sand

And with stick in hand, I stood

 

Forever at the gleaming full moon

And the light patterns it reflected

On the deep ocean darkness

 

Stars came out and clouds passed by

Determined to the end

Until the tide moved near

And the waves washed her name away

 

Sometimes I thought I could hear

Her name being called

By the chirping of the frogs

But all it was, was my memory

 

I stared at the calmness

The few waves which broke

On the sand

The few that rolled

I stared

 

I thought about

Walking straight into the moonlight

That was reflected

On the ocean’s surface

 

To surrender to my pain

And to be with her forever

As I would be welcomed by the sea

 

And finally

The waves came crawling

And washed her name away

 

I walked away

Into the darkness

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.06.23:32:00@Grape Bay Bermuda

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

Saw Blade

I am a saw blade

Circular and round

I spin in cycles

I have a painted number on my side

It’s a number eleven

 

I am a saw blade

I cut and slice

I’m bold to go further and deeper

I have a number stained into me

It’s a number eleven

 

I am a saw blade

Similar to yin and yang

But certainly not

I can be spun on a driving nail

Or your vinyl player

But what makes me work

Is the electric hole

From copper wires

 

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.02.22:29:25@NJ07430

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

Some Say

Some say I’m a copy cat

Some say I’m like others

Some say I write about the same things

Some say I use too much foul language

Some say I have too many references to sex

Some say I’m too violent

Some say I’m too disgusting

Some say I’m too lengthy

Some say I owe them more

 

Isn’t weird

That no one has said the magical words?

Or wonder what really goes on?

Sure, they all contemplate

They all think

They all attempt

They all persuade

They all wish

They all figure

They all calculate

 

But no one knows about the bleeding

Or the sprouting

The feeding or the growth

Nobody hears about the untitled

Or the music which inspires

 

No one knows about the fantasy trips

Or the daydreams

About the timeless revolution

Or fascination with my own

 

Some say things they shouldn’t

Some should say things they do not

Some should share more and not hide

Some should contact and quit playing giving in

 

Some fall

And some catch

Some feel the approach of heat

While others are eaten by coyotes in the desert land

Some ran away from it all

To go up upon with the other stars

Some come back

And realize they left someone

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.02.22:25:38@NJ07430

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

Heart

My heart is a vacant lot

Pocketed full of spare change

That jingles with the rhythm of the coming wind

 

My heart is a glass sculpture

Blown proudly and delicately

 

It falls to the ground

With great smashing tunes

That pierce the ears of children

 

My heart crashes to the floor

And beats aloud

Dead on the floor

Without the warmth it needs

 

I’m broken and dead

Like structures under Burroughs’ apple

And I stand in Lennon’s rye

 

I’m among where the flowers have gone

And my heart goes on until the last parade has past

 

My heart wraps around thorn bushes

And punctures itself

With the poetry and art, I create

For others to see

And attempt to understand

 

I go on living

And feeling

But as the students observed

His chambers were hollow

For he never knew it

 

My heart is the autumn smell

Of falling red and brown leaves

To the floor they hold and blanket

 

The smell of wet rain

And damp leaves

They cover the pavement and land

 

The earthworms dig in

And underneath

But deep below the surface

Who knew

About the well of tossed coins

And possible prison cells?

 

You can yell sweet thoughts

And hear them echo in my heart

They haunt me at night

Like a reflection pool

 

 

My heart is an ongoing event

It changes daily

Influences from weather

People and places

 

My heart is the shaded tree

In the great amazon

That doesn’t get light and grow

But protects the soil and helps the crawlers

 

My heart beats now

Even when I question why it does

 

My heart pounds every second

To keep me going

And take care of all the others

 

My heart is not broken

For every morning

I re-assemble its pieces

And attack the world again

Heartful

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.29.03:00:00@NYCNJ

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

Navel

Navel

I know you deeply

I explore you

With the touch of my finger

I trace your kind curves

 

Navel

With an ice cube in hand

I circle your depth

And slightly down below

To your inner thigh

 

Navel

I bend toward you

With my devilish tongue

I devour you

And swallow you up

 

Navel

I lick you

Around and around

With my powerful tongue

Wishing you sweetness

Tonight, and forever

 

Navel

I hear music from your insides

And paint your birth place

With butterfly kisses

And touches from heaven

 

Navel

I stutter at the sight of you

And close my eyes in your presence

The gorgeous of your tenderness

Blinds me to the heart

 

Navel

I wish to touch your peach skin

And rotate around you

To feel your softness

And show you light

 

Navel

I’ll spend hours at your side

And read poetry to your ears

And listen your voice

 

Navel

I’ll take you to the show

And rub around you

To feel the concave of the cuteness

 

Navel

I like you

And wish to see you

 

Navel

I wish to share waves with you

And see the rose buds which you hide

 

Navel

Forever

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.29.02:55:59@NJ07430

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P, 1996 - 00 David Harth P, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Pretending

She was pretending

Like she didn’t know the rules

Or the games

 

She was pretending

Like she didn’t like the wetness down her cheeks

Or the soft touch and glare

 

She was pretending

Like she didn’t want the grapevine sessions

Or the dripped-dry laundry lines

 

She was pretending

That she didn’t know the lies

Or want to know about the words

 

She was pretending

That she didn’t hear the songs I sang

Or see the paintings I painted

 

She was pretending

Not to smell the fresh air

Or see the sun glare every day

 

She was pretending

That she was leaving me

Or that she hated me

 

She was pretending

To ignore me

Or that phones rang

 

She was pretending

That her laughter was for me

Or that reality is here

 

She was pretending

To enjoy the silence

Or want the noise

 

She was pretending

Not to play the answering machine

Or admit to the wants

 

She was pretending

And that’s all I have to say

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.29.02:13:48@NJ07430Mahwah

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

11 (Version #2)

Eleven

She tells me

She enlightens me

Leans over me

 

Eleven

I hardly knew you

But now we are packaged

Like frozen dinners

 

Eleven

I never thought of you as a figure

I painted you in my sketch book

I’m only a corpse now

 

Eleven

You are on my tombstone

Two erect Ones

One beside each other

 

Eleven

On a football jersey

On an elephant’s back

Who has been faithful

one hundred percent

 

Eleven

Because its dark in this night

Because I’m a sentimental

Because I count the tiles down the wall

Because I cry myself to sleep

Because no one knows the pain of the twelves

 

Eleven

Because you are an escape from locks

Eleven

Because you are a test

Eleven

Because you are red and blue

Eleven

Because you are dead

 

Eleven

Because I hate you

Eleven

Because I overcame you

Eleven

Because you beat me

Eleven

Because you are the jungle in my nightmare

Eleven

Because you last for months

Eleven

Because they have no idea who I am

Eleven

Because I watch you go around in circles

 

Eleven

Because I want to be with you

Eleven

Because I know you through

Picture books

And Holy flowers

And table pieces

Through television

And undeclared magazine subscriptions

 

Twelve

Because you are me

Because you were my life

Because they know me there

Because they feed on me there

Because you were there

Because I was shot there

Because I met you there

Because I ate sweet bananas there

 

Twelve

Because of the view

Because of the time

Because of the water fountains

Because of the mystery

Because of the lost

 

Twelve

Because of the dozen

Because of the meal

Because of the day

Because of my sisters

Because of my brothers

And the pancakes they slapped each other with

And the pancakes they cracked skulls with

And the help they have given

On dark wintery nights

 

Eleven

Because you said so

Because it’s true

Because it’s me

Because that’s the way things are

As I crawl up into a ball

And wish for a tap

For a rest

That you and you and you

All understand

 

Eleven because at eleven times

twice and no one called plus one

No one gave a shit

A flying fuck

You didn’t even know

 

In fact

No one knew

Except the lamppost

That groped my leg

In my crossing dream

 

Eleven because you didn’t know

Nor care

perhaps

 

Twelve because you fucked me up the ass

And made me art and poetry

And that painful word that penetrates my world

You’ll never find it here today

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.27.23:42:00@NJ07430

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

Suicide

I wish I could hold

All the people that contemplate suicide

 

I wish I could give them something to cherish

And hold on to

 

I wish I could hug them

And cradle their entire life

In my pale palms

 

I wish they would call me

And ask me to help

 

I wish those who think

About suicide

Those who want to act upon it

 

I wish they would see me

And discover me

So, I can show them light

A new sunny way

A path of freedom

 

I wish I could hold

And give them warmth

 

I would bleed forever

And starve myself

To save the souls of the self-killed

 

I wish you knew me

When you took your life

 

I wish I didn’t record

My memory stopped

As you created an end for yourself

 

I wish I could rewind

Correct the wrong

And share life with you

 

I wish I could stab myself

To give you joy

And life once again

 

Many people will say

All sorts of things

But I remember you

As a reflection in a mirror

Of oneself that ended

So suddenly

Quiet

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.27.18:20:00@NYC10036

98.07.27.22:46:24@NJ07430

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

Scent

Your smelly stench

  Encompasses me

 

Raw fish sea-weed armpits

Whirlwind of gunk

  Around my body

 

As I hide and pray

  And prey

 

You lift your arms for strength

  And a breeze

 

But all you give me is hell

  As Marley sings in my head

 

Feelings rust out

  And your science fiction novel

  Ignites in flames

  From your dirty scum-disease

  Smell

 

Unshaven

Welcome to Puberty

Ain’t no Fuckin’ ‘Can

 

Do use?

As I spray and splat bugs

On the back of your thicket of a head

 

Come on Rebel Rebel

Dog biting Warhol

And you 60’s Dick Scratcher

 

Take your filthy

Nighttime for school girls

Back to your Wife!

 

And remember

The carpet I put

Down for her

For her!

 

Take your whiskey

  Saturated hairy ears

And mop up the urine

  You left behind

 

Smelly fuck!

You wanna piece of me!?

You want it!?

 

Fuck you!

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.26.19:00:00@NYC

98.07.27.01:00:00@NJ

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

Bronze Beauty

My invisible tongue remains silent

Until you shed scattered bronze light

At the first sight of tonight’s moonshine

 

Your beauty is a symphony

Orchestrated perfectly

With honey copper colors

Sparkling like a new found jewel

 

Your joy is to be held

And forever remembered and cherished

 

I hear the music

I see the visions

Of your beauty coming towards me

 

I’ll be the knight

Who guides your way

Through many forests you will enter

 

I will be tortured to save your innocence

And I will cry to soothe your pain

And I will honor you

Your beauty is strong like sunlight’s penetration through medieval ponds

Your beauty stands out in my mind beyond Michelangelo’s great chapel

Your beauty is a statue with a pedestal I shall compare all flowers too

 

Whatever your honesty

Whichever penalty you choose

However, you persuade me

Or see right through me

 

Whether you see it as a beginning

Or the beginning of the end

 

I’ll never forget your first smile

My first glance

 

Or the temporary world

We shared

 

Looking at you

Is staring at the sun and the moon

At once

 

Seeing you dance

Casting shadows that are venomous

To the ground you stand on

 

The curves twisting in warm candle light

Eating up my thirsty eyes

Forcing me near Salomé

 

As you sleep

I whisper sweetness into your apricot ears

 

I wish you would play in the rain with me

So, I can see water flow down your back

And lick the dribble off your nose

 

So, I can kiss you

Under sunny showers

Skies that open up

 

I wish you were my portrait

And you would blossom under my skin

For your brown eyes is all I have

Is all I have

 

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.20.00:00:00@NYCNJ

98.07.26.00:00:00@NYCNJ

98.07.27.00:00:00@NYCNJ

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U, 1996 - 00 David Harth U, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Untitled (Phone Calls)

I lurk in the shadows

As a bomb at the station goes off

 

I digest my surroundings

And record her every move

 

I attack my city

When the poets or pope

Come to town

 

I create love

And conduct the orchestra

 

Lust will chant symphonies of blood

As my loneliness lasts to the bathhouse

 

Clear skies protect their loved ones

As blind men communicate about leather

 

Bible signatures

And an artist’s handicap

 

Sitting, shivering in the cold

She doesn’t hold me tonight

And last night’s rain is still dripping

Down my arched back

 

I hear the Beatles pledge to the boy in the Rye

And the Art Killers

in cathedrals

and central park

 

They come and go

When doves cry

Go home

 

Melodies in red, white, and blue

Paste my wall

 

But all I can do

Is put my cock ring on

And fuck Ms. Liberty

Until I cum inside her wet torch

 

The others sending thanks

And lyrics of the past

I give all

And take little

 

Robbing the banks

To produce the consumer

I work every day

To beg on my knees

For forgiveness

 

She has blue eyes today

Baby Blue

Yesterday a shade of brown

But whenever I see her

A mirror is broken

 

I stay in the night

To feel sausage sliding

And baby back ribs

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

97.12.17.23:05:00@NYCNJ

98.02.27.02:28:00@NYCNJ

98.07.20.12:21:00@NYCNJRT

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

Green Eyes

Golden shimmer

Holding me

Commanding me

 

Her emerald green eyes feeling

Trying to see through

Examine

 

Her golden red hair

Flowing down

Back alley High School

Remembrance

 

Twos by twos

Not the same day blues

 

She looks out across rivers

A daily job

A friend by day

A memory at night

 

No drink at all

After daylight

We go to our locations

To sleep and wonder

 

She sleeps in new bedrooms

As I twist and turn

She knows my thoughts

About loved ones

And hated ones

 

She sleeps until the sunrise

As I tread the waters to meet her

 

She comes down fast

Upon my poetry and dollars

 

She shimmers in lights

And is a delight

A Times Square beauty

On the west most face

 

Staring out

I wish it was

Sleeping

Sleeping

 

I thankyou

Wonderful Friend

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.20.24:38:31@NJ07430

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