Not Really, Not Real, Missing
It wasn’t real
Only a temporary situation
It will be resolved when the moment is over
Like a dream she came and went
If only I remembered my teeth and wishbones
Bones
Making July love
Heated extravaganza
Yelling matches
Fist punches
Thirsty for a beverage
Down by the sea
Flying East
I’m hit against the head
With a shovel, a fork, a sickle, a tuna hook
Memory is now served
Flush it down
Worries aside
Making happiness is beautiful
Forgetting your name
I drag myself up and out
Exiting the room, I look behind
One more glance, one more stare
Without a lasting scent
She is gone, she is gone
Last year’s place of birth
Today’s traveling sensation
Observed the tower falling
Enter my room
Pull the trigger against the village
I survive the pulling
Not really
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.07.11.09:38:02@296NYC
King’s
Cannot bare
Cannot crucify
Wish to bow, wish to hail
Begging for forgiveness
For Jerusalem
I rise once more,
A man unlike God
I protect, I guard
I spread keys among shadows
I repent, I replenish
I feed the hungry and poor
The last knight stands
In trust and defense
Built of every man’s sin
He exists only for you
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.07.08.04:22:00@DakarFlt203NYC
Hard
Heart
Head
Art
Love
On
Off
Left
Right
Bend
Push
Pull
Move
Time
Space
Wall
Floor
Wood
Stone
Steel
Brick
Job
Business
Occupation
Work
Disease
Violence
Destruction
Obliteration
Creation
Birth
Growth
Sprout
Life
Death
Truth
False
Seven
Ten
Seventy-Five
Thirty-Three
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.07.02.18:07:00@1071FifthNYC
By, Getting
She packaged up flowers, receipts,
and old bubble gum wrappers.
Thought about joining the army;
maybe even the marines.
Finished sewing the quilt.
Made of patches of well-worn clothes
from Nebraska, Kentucky, and Virginia.
She shipped the boxes of delicate heirlooms
across rough violent oceans dreamed.
They fell over board to the
bottom of the sea.
Nine months later,
they arrive at noon.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.18.10:57:36@296NYC
I Have Time Left For Love
Hidden nights
Agendas torn
Serial masturbator
I broke Picasso’s glass
Volleyed for serve
Competed for her love
Tell me to stop
My jealousy is a rage
Crowd my heart with your love
Touch my hand to your breast
Light my path
Turn right
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.21:38:32@296NYC
Fat Men Sing, Too
Flying high
On the white rock
With a big thick black dick up your ass
$100 richer
I’m no pancake
But I’m not a virgin either!
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.21:35:16@296NYC
Man Is A Machine
Living among lost
Kernels of electricity
Pods of glory
Seeds of unrest
Man is a machine
Robotic movement
Plant generated
Mechanically engineered
Microscopically assembled
Man is a machine
Unemotionally invented
Corporate sponsored
Required back-ups
Failure imminent
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.21:19:02@296NYC
Your Garden
In heaven’s court
I am judged
Beneath Washington’s bridge
I am paralyzed
Behind institution’s doors
I am raped
Before my friends
I am defamed
In the wooden casket
I am burned
Silenced at Museum’s end
I am spoken
Lynched over Wyeth’s oak
I am memory
Clean by father
I am repaired
Picked for Middle East
I am fearless
Closing on Love
I am a garden
– I have no light – I have no water
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.14:06:00@10005thNYC
Everyone Has A Crooked Toe
I met a woman
She was crooked.
I met a violent criminal,
She was crooked.
I met a corporation,
She was crooked.
I met a politician,
She was crooked.
I met an artist,
She was straight.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.12.22:50:31@296NYC
Lost (Version #3)
Lost this
and lost that.
Losing this
and about to lose that.
Lost that long ago
and lost this too.
Lost her
and lost him.
Lost her
and about to lose him.
Losing chances
and losing time.
Losing the lost
and lost the hope.
Wondering if the greatest lost,
is the loss of existence.
The loss of mine.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.07.07:10:28@296NYC
It Is Always A Good Time To Dance
No matter how many wolves bite at your neck
No matter how many roam and circle around you
Waiting to pounce, to penetrate
To take a shot, a stab, poke at your fleshy meat
No matter how many clouds turn dark
No matter how many suns don’t shine
No matter how many stars fall from the sky
The hunt is on
So, gather your weapons
Your spears, your axe
Prepare for the battle
Prepare for the judgement
Prepare for the wounded knee
For my sisters,
My brothers,
My mother and my father,
It is always a good time to dance
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.04.12:22:34@296NYC
Blowing
Blowing up my head
Blowing a bullet through my brain
Killing myself
Now you all know your first person, or another person,
that has committed suicide.
I could not take it anymore
Rejections, accusations, difficulty, disbelief, love, art, money, sex.
Its time go, time to depart, to end.
So I’m going to blow
Blow up my head
And kill myself.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.01.12:10:32@296NYC
The Last Straw
I’ve reached it.
Perhaps some may have expected it.
Turns out,
I am the artist who created the ultimate art work.
The art work that all artists have spoken of.
The art work that all artists dreamed of.
But remember, it was Harth that pulled it off.
It was Harth that executed the final art work.
It was Harth that goes down in the art history books.
It was Harth that killed himself in the name of art.
It was Harth that committed suicide in a gallery,
and called it art.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.31.09:40:30@296NYC
The Darkest Hour
Even at the darkest hour
One must find strength
Before lifting the blade of cessation
Before lifting the graphite of renaissance
Before lifting the armor of crusade
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.31.01:55:45@296NYC
Lesbian Spider
Itsy bitsy
The spider crawled out of
The big flappy vagina lips.
Itsy bitsy
She crept up
And away
The lesbian spider
Came out of the big flappy vagina lips.
And now she sits
On top of your labia.
The itsy bitsy lesbian spider.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.30.15:18:28@599NYC