What Are We?
What are we?
.. but strangers who just met....
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.02.01.11:10:20@296NYC
Happiness is a warm gun
I think I’ll shove one up your ass.
I think I’ll guide one between your legs.
I think I’ll trace your contour with the barrel
I think I’ll plow through the feathers of the down with this steel rod
I think I’ll blast through the night on your bed sheets
I think I’ll enter your soul and make you forget
I think I’ll shoot up tonight
I think I’ll penetrate your mind all night
I think I’ll take this gun and poke you in the back
I think I’ll make you stick it up high
I think I’ll turn you around and make you warm
I think I’ll stare in your eyes and make you cold
I think I’ll slowly make you brace it
I think I’ll quickly make you suck it
I think I’ll show you how to use it
I think I’ll show you how to honor it
I think I’ll make you stroke its weight
I think I’ll make you groan louder at point
I think I’ll deliver it gently
I think I’ll never let it explode again
I think I’ll wish I had it inside
I think I’ll wish I never died
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.31.18:49:57@296NYC
You Are Not Here
I look to my left, and I see you
I look to my right, and I see you
But when I look above me
or below me,
I don’t see you.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.31.14:02:00 @ Bway & Grand NYC
Martin Day
Sad...
they ask how is the weather,
and ask “What day is it?”
He just replies with, “Yesterday was Wednesday, tomorrow is Friday.”
(I’ll let you figure out what today is)
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.27.00:00:00@296NYC
Celebrating Age
77
Shipped
84
Shipped
95
Boxed
82
Boxed
71
Shipped
88
Shipped
75
Boxed
68
Boxed
71
Shipped
89
Shipped
94
Shipped
79
Shipped
83
Shipped
And that’s how we treat the elderly today
We either ship them off to old age homes
Or box ‘em up for burial.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.21.19:56:42 @ 296 NYC
I Cry
Because you have won
You are a winner
All I can do is lose
And I have lost
I cry because I can’t dance
I watch you sway back and forth
But my legs won’t move, wont step
Because you are a winner
Magnificent
I am restrained to this bed
Broken glass in your footsteps
You can’t walk to me
Beneath this radiating iridescent light
Above Eleven stories, so many untold
Bullet wounds forgotten
I’m not allowed to pray to God here
Just count the tiles
And forget the Love
Wish I was in,
Wish I was in
You are a great winner, remember that?
The January Spring air
The January Honey dip
Directions given
Didn’t take a drink
Thought you might hide the pills
Punch you in the face
Now all left behind
Nothing is hidden
Come see me now
See what I’m made of
And I’ll show you the actions of love
The visuals of love
The feelings of love
But, you’ll never quote me...
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.15:15:00:00@296NYC
Fifteen Days
Muted Hazel in 15 days
I will be famous for 15 minutes
Wrapped in sheets in 15 days
Gone to heaven for 15 hours
Piercing Blue in 15 days
She will be real for 15 minutes
Silently waiting for 15 days
Gone underneath for 15 hours
Rocked through the sky in Thousand and Two
Nobody heard, everyone felt
Nobody listened, you & I
Rocked through the midnight in today’s morning hours
Muted Hazel
Where have you been?
Muted Hazel
What kind of trouble are you in?
Piercing Blue
I don’t know you
Piercing Blue
Is it true?
Fifteen Days
Away I have swept
Fifteen Days
She no longer has wept
Rocked back and forth
Steady stream
Violent toss
Break a snap over your knee
Honey Dip
Supermarket trip
Grabbed you by the hip
Going to give your tongue a slip
Fifteen Days
Come and gone
Fifteen Days
I’ll here you sing
Fifteen Days
Spread the sheets
Fifteen Days
It’s time to eat
Fifteen Days
I want more
Fifteen Days
See you in February
Fifteen Days
Ides of March
Fifteen Days
Gone tomorrow
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.10.12:38:10 @ 296 NYC
Deaf As A Dog
deaf as a dog doesn’t like camel shit.
twice on the hamper, been around back, been around front.
bubble double don’t want in the tub, trouble my hubble
telescopic pebble!
cause i made it big
never mind, when your older you’ll understand
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.03.18:28:22@296NYC
New Year’s Day: Learned
I learned she couldn’t sing
Couldn’t sing on top
Or even in the back
She danced
Taught me about dancing on the line
I couldn’t ignore the eyes
Just those eyes
It never was a blank stare
On a New Year’s Day
Not today
I’ve been great, how are you?
See you tomorrow
Not tonight
See you later
Not tonight
She hung up, never phoned me back
Left with her nipples hard,
Never Again
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.01.20:02:02 @ 296 NYC
New Year’s Day
New Year’s Eve 01-2002
I can’t sing tonight
I can only try to smirk
Try not to smile
I can only put my head down
Wrapped around in the fetal position
Jam Jam Jam
The doctors jam the needle in my spine
Drain Drain Drain
The doctors drain my spinal fluid
I can’t sing tonight
I’m not allowed
It’s not proper
It’s not right
It’s not connecting the dots
Father knows
Neuro Twelve Times Two In Two Thousand And Two
Not any more
Not here today
Gone today
More tomorrow
I can’t sing
No more singing
I can’t sing tonight
Just have to count those tiles
Up and down, up and down
Watch the Benz and Bulette go by
Go by
Go by...
© 2002 David Greg Harth
01.12.31.23:59:59@NYC
02.01.01.24:00:01@NYC
Elevator Music Stinks In My Pocket
What’s that smell?
It’s Elevator Music
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.23.19:54:37@296 NYC
She Said
I loved her mysterious brown eyes
I loved her beautiful brown hair
I loved her soft skin against mine
I loved her as she kissed my mouth
I loved her hair against my chest
I loved her lips exploring my navel
I loved her nipples perking through
I loved her tight ass
I loved her smooth legs
I loved her arms around mine
I loved her music she created in bed
I loved her going down on me
I loved her scent surrounding my neck
I loved her toes touching mine
I loved her fingers running through my hair
I loved her wrapping around me
I loved her sweating in the night with me
I loved her midnight tease
I loved her in the evening
I loved her in the day
I loved her today, and yesterday
As I crawled down beneath the sheets
Slowly towards her inner thigh
About to stick my tongue and twirl
Taste her warmness, her wetness, her insides, her sweetness,
She said “I am sorry”
As I approached nearer with my tongue
My eyes wide open
I saw she had a cock, and she was a he, and not my she ...
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.20.02:43:44@296NYC
Couldn’t Possibly
One more time
One last time
Said She
Morning hours now
Dawn light sheds its tale
On these white bed sheets
A cool glass of water
Sits on the bedside table
Moisture condensing on the side of the glass
Friday night’s bouquet sits alone
With nothing left to love
Not even a voice or tear
Tulips of orange and yellow
The scent capturing a moment
No longer here today, yesterday
A warm breeze enters the room
Lifting up the love note from the linens
Making it swirl around in the room
Can you find it?
Can you please find it?
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.16.16:25:00@TampaIntAirport
Song of Bangladesh
I am Bangladesh!,
I am the power of the sky!
I am Bangladesh!,
I am the power of the sky!
I am Bangladesh!,
I am the power of the sky!
(*) repeat versus until
you are fully pulled
between intersections
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.13:00:00:00@StPetersburgFL
Silent Moment, Silent Fantasy
It was for only one moment.
I caught your eye for that single moment.
The rush filled my veins.
My heart quickly pumped my body full of my warm blood.
It was for only a short while.
A paused moment in time.
Silent.
It was wonderful. Beautiful. Like nothing I have ever experienced.
Ever witnessed. Ever felt. Ever thought of.
It was beyond belief.
It was a single moment in time.
Beyond the most intimate fantasies.
Beyond the most intimate connections.
For one silent moment in time.
You caught my eye.
Our eyes connected.
We held each other for eternity.
Like a single flame in the fire.
Intense.
Nobody saw the moment.
Just you and I.
Experienced in its silent epic.
A story untold to thousands, unreal.
A silent moment, a silent fantasy.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.10.02:03:41@296NYC
Escalators
I have to speak about Escalators.
There is little hope for the human race.
Very little hope.
I hate riding down the DOWN Escalator!
Why can’t people WALK down the DOWN Escalator?!
Is the human race getting that lazy?!
That they must stand while riding the Escalator going DOWN?!
Why can’t they walk down the damn Escalator?
Why do they just stand there,
waiting for the moving steps to bring them to the next walking surface?
Don’t they have someplace to go?
Isn’t that a great waste of time?
Life is about waiting.
We wait everywhere.
In traffic.
For a train.
At the bank.
In line for food.
Why do people force themselves to waste time by standing
on the DOWN Escalator?
It drives me NUTS!
How can we have world peace filled with intelligent people,
if people are so darn lazy they can’t walk DOWN the darn Escalator?
Before you know it, nobody will be walking. We’ll having moving sidewalks.
Then what will happen?
People will lose the functionality of our legs and they will fall off.
Then our butts will become nobbing knobs that roll and scoot across the land.
Legless. Hopeless.
Start walking DOWN the DOWN Escalator!
PLEASE! All of you! I beg you!!!
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.10.01:42:28@296NYC
Enemy
Part I.
I am the Enemy.
I am the target.
Everyone hates me.
From South to West.
The married, the involved, the single.
I have done mad, evil things.
I am no longer, the icon of beauty,
the icon of what perfect mistakes can be.
I am no longer, the loved, the hero, the dreamer.
I am just an Enemy.
I am target number one.
I am the devil from hell.
I am God’s Enemy; I don’t believe in him.
I am the Enemy, by choice.
I am her lasting Enemy.
I am their worst nightmare; I caused children’s tears.
I am the Enemy.
I am evil.
I am removed, forgotten, brushed away.
I am looked down upon, frowned upon, spit upon.
People turn their heads as they pass me.
People turn their heads as thoughts of me run through their mind
Part II.
I am the Enemy.
Because I was being me, instead of someone.
I am the Enemy.
Because I am not here tonight, but elsewhere.
I am the Enemy.
Because I have caused pain, for the sacrifice of my own.
I am the Enemy.
Because I am human.
I am the Enemy.
Everyone thinks I’m a fool.
I am the Enemy.
Everyone thinks I have no soul.
I am the Enemy.
Everyone thinks I’m made of filth.
I am the Enemy.
Everyone thinks I deserve blood.
I am the Enemy.
Because soundtracks to films did not spell out my life story.
I am the Enemy.
Because I did not swear the truths I didn’t believe in.
I am the Enemy.
Because my mind escaped every day.
I am the Enemy.
Because you made me the Enemy.
Enemy Number One.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.06.03:48:02@296NYC
01.12.07.03:16:18@296NYC