David Harth 2000-03-29 David Harth 2000-03-29

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...

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

David Harth 2000-03-26 David Harth 2000-03-26

12 Minutes

You would be surprised

What I can do

In 12 Minutes

00.03.26.10:00:00 @ AVA

David Harth 2000-03-16 David Harth 2000-03-16

Speechless

Wordless

Only a Kiss

Can convey my feelings

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

David Harth 2000-03-13 David Harth 2000-03-13

I Love You

I love you.

I’ll take a rain check.

00.03.13.02:02:08@296NYC

David Harth 2000-03-11 David Harth 2000-03-11

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...

00.03.10.05:17:15 @ 296 NYC

00.03.11.13:07:23 @ 296 NYC

David Harth 2000-03-11 David Harth 2000-03-11

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?

00.01.21.16:00:00@NYC

00.02.08.13:15:51@1515NYC

00.03.11.12:46:23@296NYC

David Harth 2000-03-11 David Harth 2000-03-11

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

00.03.11.12:29:04 @ 296 NYC

David Harth 2000-03-08 David Harth 2000-03-08

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

00.03.08.17:36:43 @ 1515 NYC

David Harth 2000-03-01 David Harth 2000-03-01

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.

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

David Harth 2000-03-01 David Harth 2000-03-01

I Don’t Know (Version #2)

I didn’t know what to do

I was afraid of where I was heading

I couldn’t recall my name

I didn’t know how she felt

I was unaware of the possible outcomes

I couldn’t think straight in this state

I didn’t know about the past

I was blind to the truth

I couldn’t pretend anymore

I didn’t know my own history

I was in an unfamiliar deepness

I couldn’t see the light

I didn’t know how to react

I was covered in my own cause

I couldn’t recover from my illness

I didn’t know where to turn

I was in trouble with my one and only law

I couldn’t come around and share

I didn’t know who I was

I was wishing too hard when the dream collapsed

I couldn’t build myself to recognition

So, in the world alone

In the world that not one person on earth can even imagine

or know about

or even begin to ponder

I hung myself

I jumped in front of the train

I cut my wrists

and became your memory

Are you sad?

Are you happy?

David Harth 2000-03-01 David Harth 2000-03-01

I Don’t Know

I didn’t know what to do

I was afraid of where I was heading

I couldn’t recall my name

I didn’t know how she felt

I was unaware of the possible outcomes

I couldn’t think straight in this state

I didn’t know about the past

I was blind to the truth

I couldn’t pretend anymore

I didn’t know my own history

I was in an unfamiliar deepness

I couldn’t see the light

I didn’t know how to react

I was covered in my own cause

I couldn’t recover from my illness

I didn’t know where to turn

I was in trouble with my one and only law

I couldn’t come around and share

I didn’t know who I was

I was wishing too hard when the dream collapsed

I couldn’t build myself to recognition

So, in the world alone

In the world that not one person on earth can even imagine

or know about

or even begin to ponder

I hung myself

I jumped in front of the train

I cut my wrists

and became your memory

00.03.01.02:13:30@296NYC

David Harth 2000-03-01 David Harth 2000-03-01

Escape (Version #2)

For once in your life

I dare you to take my hand

And escape

For a little while

Take my hand

Let me show you a new horizon

Where the sun is always beautiful

And your brown eyes are always powerful

Escape into the sky

And into the sea

Into the family of willow trees

And lakeside walks

Escape where silence gives you energy

And talking makes your soul warm

Come with me where God is your friend

And no longer my enemy

Escape into the ark of passion

And discover the hidden secrets

Cry upon my shoulder

And find yourself within me

Escape with the blue river

And let the current take you for a ride

Let the embrace hold you

And the warmth penetrates you

Escape into the smiles that last

And always remember

I’ll be here

Until you tell me to go

00.02.01.00:00:00@NYC

00.03.01:00:00:00@NYC

David Harth 2000-02-29 David Harth 2000-02-29

Tale

Let me tell you a tale

He lied. His father didn’t tell him the truth.

He put a gun against his father’s head.

He threatened his father.

But he was strong.

And saw the fear in his father’s eyes.

Both live on

One in federal one in honor of what?

00.02.29.18:08:30 @ New York City

David Harth 2000-02-29 David Harth 2000-02-29

Eight Thousand Dollars

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

I would have a limo

And a flat with a fireplace

I would have fruit on board the jet

And laugh at the fare in the air

I would pay for you all to visit me

And phone you when I’m in a coma

I would have wooden floors

And birch trees on the walls

I would treat you like flower gold

And enjoy the sunshine year-round

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

I would still deliver meals to the homebound

And collect records from rockstars

I would eat instant mashed potatoes

And continue my misspellings

I would fight for my own undelivered freedom

And always wish I was between your thighs

I would share the stars with you

And embrace our friendship forever

I would listen to frogs talking

And hear the gulf stream more often

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

I would have space for a motorcycle

And retro lights and tables

I would still ignore mother

And be closed to all of you

I would paint and write all the time

And have a bigger studio to do it in

I would be above Heartland

And see myself on the widescreen

I would meet face to face with rabbits

And have even more to lose

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

00.02.28.17:28:20 @ 1515 nyc

00.02.29.17:35:38 @ 1515 nyc

David Harth 2000-02-28 David Harth 2000-02-28

Loneliness and Hopelessness

I just do what I do,

those who listen, listen

those who do not, don’t

those who seek, will seek,

those who are afraid, will remain afraid,

but when they come out of the shadows,

that’s when my beautiful dream is shattered

and I can only live

00.02.28.15:46:17 @ NYC 1515

David Harth 2000-02-28 David Harth 2000-02-28

Return The Start

Don’t kiss me

back

Don’t kiss me

because I kissed you first

Don’t kiss me

because I started too

Don’t kiss me

because you feel obligated too

Don’t kiss me

to finish up

Don’t kiss me

to satisfy me

Kiss me

because

YOU

want to kiss me

Because when you kiss me for any other reason

I feel like the lowest human being on earth

00.02.28.02:00:00 @ AVA

00.02.28.10:15:00 @ I95

David Harth 2000-02-24 David Harth 2000-02-24

Red Indian Moon

She moves like the silent moon

Over red land in the heart

She destroys the defenses

And makes the warriors weak and ache

She barrels down potions

While the night sky can only look on

I stand in her shadows wishing on sacred lands

And learn the art of sacrifice

Dozens bow to her beauty and silence

People gather and pray to the natural

She hears the beats of the drum

As I attempt to listen to the beats of her heart

She dances in the sun fields

And makes senseless of the innocent

She is still as a windless day

Making the current strong in the mighty river

Her eyes are life fire power

Strong and deadly to the look of desire

Her beauty is no comparison to mother nature

Or to the doves in the clouds

Her scent makes flowers unite

And men speechless with smiles

I know her well under the bright moon

And know the sudden dance of redness

All I can do is dance around in patterns of joy

And circle like an eagle hunter that is blind

00.01.31.16:59:17 @ New York City

00.02.24.03:15:20 @ New York City

David Harth 2000-02-24 David Harth 2000-02-24

X

I’ve made you

I’ve created you

From dirt earth

From Indian ground!

I’ve clamped down upon you

Captured you

Made you hell

I swallowed you whole!

I bit your nipples

And climbed on top

I tore your leather garter off

And forgot that the dogs were watching!

I create pornography for you

Made a school cum-back

Reached inside and grabbed a wet one

And did it all over again!

Youve made me hard

I don’t want to go back

My hands cupping your breasts

Shower down with me!

You are a great X

A Lover

A Secret

A Mother Fucker!

Lets get down

Get kinky

Sexxy

Luscious and dirty!

Leaking and sneaking

Out back, around, tonight

Sugar beat

See you at midnight!

00.02.09.15:00:00@1515nyc

00.02.24.02:40:00@296nyc

David Harth 2000-02-24 David Harth 2000-02-24

Night Tracker

Last night, after going to my favorite prostitute,

on East 30th St, I stopped by the 24-hour diner on 2nd avenue.

I had a greasy grilled-cheese sandwich

and a side plate of hot French fries with tomato ketchup.

I could still smell the scent of cheap sweet awful sex

on my hands and face as I ate alone.

I had a root beer and had to get a refill.

Then I had a plate of horrible chocolate cake

with chocolate chips on the sides.

and a nice good glass of cold skim milk.

Although I was not allowed to read the paper.

I recalled a bitch calling me a prick earlier that day for nodding my head

and denying her a donation of money for a lie she has created at the

subway station.

Everywhere I look is a couple. A couple here or there.

Persons hugging, female and male or women together or men holding hands.

Park benches filled with kissing couples and copulating in my head and

On my shoulders.

Tell me, if a restaurant only has one couple in it,

is the restaurant bad or is the couple really good?

I realize where my partner is.

Flying on a jet plane the other day I was sitting on the West

So, I can see my sunset.

And the point between the sun setting

and the lightning in the thunder-storm clouds,

Right between the horizon and cloud lines,

That’s where my partner exists

But unfortunately, I’ll never meet them

Maybe lack of effort or seeking or hiding or hunting

But I do fuck my art every day.

Well, what I mean is I make love to it.

I put art first and maybe one day I’ll put my partner first.

Or maybe not.

I called up the suicide hot-line.

The person on the other end of the phone convinced me

that I have things worth living for.

Although the gun in my palms disagrees

So, instead of killing myself, I write this poem about my agony for all of you.

And some of you may think, where does the line of truth begin or end?

And where does the line of lies begin or end?

I was all prepared, I had my list ready, my favorite song was playing, but

instead of picking up a slug, I picked up the phone; are you happy now?

War is something I’ve never been to. But I do create mine daily.

They are driving me nuts. The people, the slow, the computers, the lies,

the advertisements, the fame, the art, the songs, the stench, the poor, the

disease, the love, the acting, the bills, the information, the creation,

the make-believes, the obsessions, the politics, the job, the lack,

I could go on.

Counting bathroom tiles never helped.

Apple juice is all I ever wanted.

The Two-Pupil-Eyed-Man is something that no one will understand,

Although only one person knows about him

And a team knows what he can be.

One time, when I was very young,

I was at the beach, down on the New Jersey shore

(No, I’m not from there, I was born in my city)

Looking over the deep blue ocean, at nighttime

A song came over the outdoor radio of the motel

The yellow gold lights that surrounded the pool

They made it so beautiful

My partner appeared in front of me and then suddenly left.

There once was a partner whom I chased around the playground

I remember her hair and wind perfectly that day.

In nursery school I wore a mustard golden-yellow T-Shirt

It had an iron-on glitter decal with bright colors

It said “Lover Boy”

Interesting, the prostitute said I’m big. How do I know?

I don’t know what big is? Shall I compare it to when I was smaller?

When I was smaller I asked my father to wipe my ass clean of shit because I

didn’t want my hands near that stuff. One time I slid into the bathroom and

my bottom lip fell off and the neighbors heard me screaming on the way to the

hospital. Sometimes, many times, I wish I would go back to the

hospital. So, I can have another break, a few beers when I get out, not

worry about crap and not work. But I wake up every morning just as good, or

bad, as the last. But one morning, you won’t hear from me anymore...

at least for a little while.

Sadness is something we all have.

What has an effect on it?

Art? Music? Film? Literature?

The lack of something or someone?

Relief is something we all have.

It’s amazing to me, that throughout the wars we’ve had.

Like Vietnam and Desert Storm, that both enemies,

they both have to shit and sneeze.

Doesn’t that boggle you?

That they are both human?

Yet they both kill each other?

Both sneeze. Both shit. Both kill.

Some peope say I make run-on poems

I don’t really give a damn

Maybe this isn’t a poem

But a forum of collected or remembered or created thoughts

Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a copyright or a camera up my ass or a forest on

fire or a cement truck implanted on a towering breast or a sex madness

episode or the misunderstanding and perception of feelings, smells, and

tastes of the inner-self?

Again, I called.

I saved.

I have my soundtrack; do you have yours?

99.08.05.03:33:33 @ 296 New York City

99.08.12.24:17:17 @ 296 New York City

99.08.15.22:00:20 @ 296 New York City

99.08.24.23:25:12 @ 296 New York City

99.09.05.21:25:10 @ 296 New York City

99.11.17.02:09:11 @ 296 New York City

00.02.24.02:15:10 @ 296 New York City

David Harth 2000-02-23 David Harth 2000-02-23

Love Is Dead

I’d rather share my love

With the pavement I spit on

Then give my love to you

I’d rather distribute my love

To the junkyard dog

Then give my love to you

I’d rather French kiss an ox

And eat rusty nails

Then give my love to you

I’d rather deliver my love

To a hijacker in the Middle East

Then give my love to you

I’d rather fuck a goat

And eat poison ivy

Then give my love to you

I’d rather dispense my love

To cockroaches eating my dinner

Then give my love to you

I’d rather swallow a cum from a priest

And fuck my mother

Then give my love to you

I’d rather share my love

To the shit I make in the toilet

Then give my love to you

I’d rather be dead

And make my family sad

Then give my love to you

I’d rather distribute my love

To the underarm sweat in prisons

Then give my love to you

I’d rather deliver my love

To slugs on dirt

Then give my love to you

00.02.22.10:05:00@I95(PPB)

00.02.23.12:22:00@1515NYC