Hot & Sticky
After fucking, we took a shower, rinsed off the cum from her legs and her lower back. Rubbed her shoulders and washed her hair. Had a scavenger hunt between her thighs and cupped her breasts. Hot & Sticky.
Riding the A train home, it was 95 degrees and extremely hot. Sweat bubbled up on top your skin and all you could do was bake in the oven. I got out and walked up the steps behind a young woman with olive skin wearing a thin white skirt. I could see her tight G-String right through the fabric. Hot & Sticky.
At the park I watched the dogs chase each other. Each time they made a pass; I got pelted by small little stones. Each hitting me with a snap. The dogs would run around in circles, chasing nothing, chasing each other, and greeting each other. They would run right up to each other’s asses and sniff. Some dogs would even mount other dogs and begin humping. Hot & Sticky.
Walking on Grand Street on this hot summer day, I pass tons of fish. Smell fish, octopuses and eel. Headless, or finless, perhaps even brainless. Pig parts, pig heads, pig feet, pig ears and pig insides. All displayed for the little China man to eat. I didn’t have any chopsticks handy so I just dug my hands in deep, into the bucket of ice and felt around. Didn’t find that electric eel, didn’t know it was alive in the case to the right. Hot & Sticky.
In SoHo there is a gallery on Wooster Street. I’m sure you know it. I went there for an opening and what did I see? Some new art to be examined. At the opening I met this woman with brunette hair. She told me to get down on one knee and be a delight to her navel. Oh, what a sight! I got down on one knee, and with a twirl of a tongue, I’m back at her place eating her Cinnamon Bun! Hot & Sticky.
I went to the marketplace and had drinks with my friend. He brought along his new girlfriend from Detroit. Although he never told me that she was so slutty, so dirty and married with two kids. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, I’ve seen him suck and I’ve seen him probe. But it was still stuck in her hole, so I excused myself and they left for pork. Hot & Sticky.
On a faraway planet, let’s say, Baby Jupiter. That’s where I met her. My beautiful girlfriend. She served me up and I met her out back. She was wearing a turquoise shirt that day. Tight and blue. Cyan. Even horrifying! I got her out back, on that July summer day. I bent her over that barrel and slapped her ass! Slapped it so hard, she drenched my fist. Hot & Sticky.
Sitting alone, resting upon my sheets, on my bed. I hear the couple above me fucking. Making loud noises and shifting the bed over and over again. I heard the scratching of her fingernails into his back. I heard the moans of his early cum. And I heard the cries shortly after. I realized masturbating was not a crime, so I stroked my cock and listened once more. Hot & Sticky.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.28.17:15:31@1515NYC
Off
Today is different
Instructor said
Teacher said
Professor said
Captain said
President said
Leader said
I can’t touch you
I can’t pray with you
I can’t feel you
I can’t be with you
Today is Tuesday
I can’t lie to you
I can’t see you
I can’t even love you
Today is Wednesday
I can’t find you
I can’t look at you
I can’t smile at you
Today is Thursday
I can’t sit next to you
I can’t stand in the park with you
I can’t eat with you
Today is Friday
I can’t do anything with you
Because I’m not here anymore
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.26.09:12:03@296NYC
Wind
Come harvest with me
Under our mighty sun
My blood is thicker for my love that passes
Thousands of times I have smoked
Weeping Red ends the sky
Oak Red makes sky greater
The strength of mountains can no longer hold me
The strength of currents can no longer carry me
Kneel down by the river
An eagle lands upon a rock
My heart is now in summer
And summer is my heart
Weeping Red makes good rope
Oak Red makes good boil
Leaves fall for long
Colored teas gathered
Winter winds blow in my face
Blistered hands burnt
Move Westward said Eagle God
Become named and never return
Come back a new son
Return as a mighty one
Come back a new daughter
Return as a blade of grass
Weeping Red now gone
Oak Red now gone
Drum beat played on hill
Drum beat played on ground
Men with cow carcass bellies
Blow to your burial
The wind leaves a trail
And the rain pours on your dead
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.26.04:21:18@296NYC
reading / read
I am not here.
Reading Read
I am over here.
Reading Read
I haven’t found you
Read that story last night
Haven’t slept in days
Reading Read
I read your mind
I found that heart
Deep inside
Reading Read
Punching thirst
Thinking of a sprinkle
Won’t believe the dust
Reading Read
I’m not reading
Don’t like to read
But I’ll read you up
And forget the soul
Because Reading tonight
Is a book worth reading...
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.25.16:39:24@1515NYC
Spoken Word
If you let me write poetry on you
Ink on your inner thigh
Put my mark on your inner thigh
Would you let me read
Would you let me give you
My spoken word?
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.19.14:19:09@1515NYC
Dirt
I’m digging in the dirt.
What will I find?
I’m digging in the dirt.
What will I find today?
I’m digging deeper
Deep in the depth of this rich dirt
Soil of the hands
Minerals of the soul
I’m digging deeper today
Down in the depths of the earth
What will I find?
What will I dig up?
Excavate?
Reveal?
I’m digging in the dirt.
I see an eye looking up at me
I see that beautiful eye in the soil
Under that dirt
Under that veil
Behind that wall
Behind that barrier
I’m digging down
I see her piercing through
Bolting like a standing beauty
Electrifying and gorgeous
Lighting up the ground
I grasp her hand
Soft and tender
I reach down and pull her out of the dirt
Out of today’s soil
Out of yesterday’s mud
I pull her up onto the earth
Onto myself
Locked
No dirt to be found.
I’m digging in the dirt.
What will I find?
I’m digging in the dirt.
What will I find today?
The majestic beauty arose
Her curves conquer the sea
Her eyes speak languages of lust
Her lips soft and pink
Her mind, open -
I’m digging in the dirt.
What will I find?
I found the angel of beauty.
The dirt.
The beauty of dirt.
And the angel sleeping beneath my feet.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.19.13:33:55@1515NYC
Damaged
Damage my heart
Damage my memory
Damage me to eternity
so, I don’t feel anything
nothing.
Fill my suitcase with damage
Take my mother away from me
Leave your kiss on my skin
Damage my surface
Bring on the storm
Push me off,
fall from the sky
Fall like a rock,
a bird.
Damage me
Damage my driven love
Damage my thirst and hunger
Damage my wings
Forget about my world
The words I speak
and hands I hold
Damage them.
Teach me about the lust
About the remembrances
The walkways to heaven
and your God.
Clue me into your universe
Let me speak when spoken to
Let me listen forever
Let me feel the wind and taste the salt
Damage my mind
Damage my hands
Damage my art
Damage my love
Nothing
Nothing is left
In my empty hands
No one to grace
No one to lose
No one at all.
Damage me to wood
Wood of the earth
And sweat of my peoples
Damage me to the dirt
Dirt of the heart
And tears from them.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.13.17:16:58 @ 1515 NYC
(There Is A) Puddle Of Liquid
In the center of the table
Cold
Reflecting an image
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.10.21:22:00@179Boston->NYC
Magnetic Poem
I sleep in my shadows
and she moans
I have my tongue
her beauty is how I ache
Language is a gorgeous symphony
Rain on me for moments
© 2001 David Greg Harth
99.06.06.06:00:00@NYC
01.06.06.06:00:00@NYC
Pain (Version #2)
I know what pain is.
Lifting your index and middle finger upwards,
forming a “V”
That international peace symbol,
now a memorable symbol for Verizon.
Staring out the small glass window of that
locked wooden door. The glass with the wire mesh
imbedded in it to prevent breaking and smashing.
The wooden door with sharp nails that protrude outwards,
towards my white face. The nails I might have thought about
smashing my skull against and splitting my head open
or my dream open.
Sitting on a porcelain ivory toilet bowl,
staring at blue tiled walls and praying to God
that you would have a normal, solid shit. Praying
you wouldn’t have diarrhea scattered with corn again.
Praying for one instant in your life to be good.
Looking at yourself in the mirror and unable to see.
Unable to see the stubble forming on your face. Unable to
see the color of your iris. The lashes surrounding your eyes.
Unable to split the fog open and see the truth, your skin,
and the sins you never had a chance to commit.
Watching television for hours, watching the News, reruns,
talk shows, comedies, soap operas, infomercials, dramas,
entertainment shows, car races and realizing the only
programs you understand are movies you have seen before,
because you base your understanding of it by your recollected
memory of it.
Eating your favorite mashed potatoes or French fries with
red ketchup and not tasting a grain of salt. Listening to
the wind howl outside of your 12th floor room and wondering
if Tic Tacs changed your life. Reminding yourself that
when you write this, that the only person that will fully
grasp most of these implications is your father.
Walking down hallways with patterns unrecalled, and one day
you see a water fountain that was not there for months.
But today it is there, and it always has been.
Contemplating why you aren’t allowed to have deodorant next
to your bedside. Perhaps fear that the Black Man or White Man
or the So-Called Man will eat my deodorant, overdose on the
freshness and die. Leading to a lawsuit?
Drawing dots, being punched, being thrown around, being stared at
and being worshipped by voices I never heard, but only dressed in
white and sweats even though I was not working out. Sleeping every
night, being comfortable, with no pillows.
I know what pain is.
The pain that only 1 in a billion get.
The pain you can’t describe
The pain you can pretend to illustrate by smashing glass frames
holding portraits of 3 wise and 3 blooms.
The pain you can pretend to express by sleeping forever.
The pain you can pretend to share by writing.
The pain you can’t touch, hear, see, smell, or feel.
The pain is so large that you know it will happen again.
Because my pain, saves the lives of millions.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.31.14:33:48 @ 1515 NYC
Bible Is The Womb
Inside I only hear lost voices
Taste buds of the tongue
And burnt sensations at fingertips
Healed now
Forgotten cries and howls
Daughters lost and stolen
Sons sent for battle to fight
Gone now
Her new spring dress bleached
Stained from the power struggle
Laughter kept away
Hidden from yesterday’s children
The trees now sway
Without a trace of wind
The rain soaks up the ground
And the dead rise from the earth
You are not sad today
Just remembering the horror
Of airplane dreams
And truth of today’s news
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.23.17:43:00@GUGGENHEIMMUSEUMNYC
Thinking of You
And in that rainfall
In those clouds that come by
Seeing the wind rip up my soul
Feeling the twirl in my hair
And biting my lip
I think of you
© 2001 David Greg Harth
00.05.15.15:08:20 @ NYC
01.05.22.03:04:57 @ NYC
One Minute Poem (Version 2) (Easy wrong)
60
59
58
57
56
55
54
53
52
51
50
49
48
47
46
45
44
43
42
41
40
39
38
37
36
35
34
33
32
31
30
29
28
27
26
25
24
23
22
21
20
19
18
17
16
15
14
13
12
11
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.11.04:04:48@296NYC
One Minute Poem (Version 1) (Original Wrong)
1 One Thousand
2 One Thousand
3 One Thousand
4 One Thousand
5 One Thousand
6 One Thousand
7 One Thousand
8 One Thousand
9 One Thousand
10 One Thousand
11 One Thousand
12 One Thousand
13 One Thousand
14 One Thousand
15 One Thousand
16 One Thousand
17 One Thousand
18 One Thousand
19 One Thousand
20 One Thousand
21 One Thousand
22 One Thousand
23 One Thousand
24 One Thousand
25 One Thousand
26 One Thousand
27 One Thousand
28 One Thousand
29 One Thousand
30 One Thousand
31 One Thousand
32 One Thousand
33 One Thousand
34 One Thousand
35 One Thousand
36 One Thousand
37 One Thousand
38 One Thousand
39 One Thousand
40 One Thousand
41 One Thousand
42 One Thousand
43 One Thousand
44 One Thousand
45 One Thousand
46 One Thousand
47 One Thousand
48 One Thousand
49 One Thousand
50 One Thousand
51 One Thousand
52 One Thousand
53 One Thousand
54 One Thousand
55 One Thousand
56 One Thousand
57 One Thousand
58 One Thousand
59 One Thousand
60 One Thousand
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.11.04:02:49@296NYC
Orgasm Central
lippity suck
spread your lips
suck my lips
spread your legs
scream my name
look into my eyes
kiss your lips
hold me tonight
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.04.09:19:46 @ 296 NYC
Lifted (Version #2)
She danced with me
She lifted me
Filled me with spirits
She made me see god
She made me feel god
She lifted me
High above the ocean
Across plains
And Holy seas
Above the ground
The dirt
And the stock
Above the flowerbeds
The grains
And the steam ships
She lifted me
Incredibly
To points untaken
Un-invented
Uninvited
Unreal
She lifted me
To visit with god
She surrounded me
With sunlight
And cathedral walls
She lifted me
Took me down on my knees
She lifted me
And pulled me back up to my place
Took me across the rivers
Under Country palaces and rolling walls
Under African skies and Buffalo roams
Under Hebrew sukkots and Japanese Temples
She lifted me
High above the earth
And never let me down
Never let me go
I am here
Right next to god
And I’ve got you over my knee.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.04.02:53:48@296 NYC
Lifted
She danced with me
She lifted me
Filled me with spirits
She made me see god
She made me feel god
She lifted me
High above the ocean
Across plains
And Holy seas
Above the ground
The dirt
And the stock
Above the flowerbeds
The grains
And the steam ships
She lifted me
Incredibly
To points untaken
Un-invented
Uninvited
Unreal
She lifted me
To visit with god
She surrounded me
With sunlight
And cathedral walls
She lifted me
Took me down on my knees
She lifted me
And pulled me back up to my place
Took me across the rivers
Under Country palaces and rolling walls
Under African skies and Buffalo roams
Under Hebrew sukkots and Japanese Temples
She lifted me
High above the earth
And never let me down
Never let me go
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.04.02:52:48@296 NYC
MOODY DOPE
Whhooooooooooooo!!
Oh come on baby!
Whhooooooo!!!
Sing it with me baby!
Oh baby!
1 - 2 - 3 !
Sugar Baby Pie!
Whoopie Doopie Doo Pie!
Sugar Love Dupity Dopity Bop bop bop!!!!!
Whhooooooooooooo!!!!
Oh baby!
Darling Baby!
Baby baby!!
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.01:12:39:00@296NYC
Love Will Tear Us Apart
Love will tear us apart.
Because I’m built that way.
Because of the walls that are built around
The moats, the chains, the bounding mortar
This brick, that stone, the coldness of my dead heart.
Love will tear us apart.
I hardly even know you
You don’t even know me
My words are repeated
I can duplicate my own poetry
I can listen to words that musicians sing
Love will tear us apart.
You don’t read my art
You don’t see my art.
You haven’t looked under my bed lately?
To see the dark portraits?
The mirror no longer reflects
Every day I puncture myself
With the taste of tears
And the taste of my pain
Of the dying on Park Terrace West
And the love in Arlington Graves
But you think I’d make a good C.E.O.
But you don’t think I’d be a beat
Or be the next, but I’ve met Rauschenberg
And I’ve met Glenn and I’ve met Ali
Love will tear us apart.
Because I don’t own you
And you’d only kill me if you were with me every day
Or you’d kill my only child
Son and daughter
Or yourself
Upon your lovely death bed
But I’ll hold your hand
Until you die
Or until we part.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.05.01:24:58:00@296NYC
I Haven’t Given Up (Version #2)
I haven’t lifted the gun
I haven’t lifted the drink
I haven’t lifted the razor
I haven’t lifted the cord
I haven’t lifted the drill
I haven’t lifted the knife
I haven’t lifted the rope
I haven’t lifted the drugs
I haven’t lifted the belt
I haven’t lifted the hammer
I haven’t lifted the fire
I haven’t lifted the blade
I haven’t lifted the can
I haven’t lifted the needle
I haven’t lifted the phone
But I will lift up this boulder,
this rock
and drag you out
from beneath this weight
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.04.26.22:44:52@296 NYC