Hate Me
Don’t hate me because
I said I would end all famine
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would make love to you last night
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would go to battle
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would kiss you
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would introduce myself
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would not lie
And I did
Don’t hate me because
I said I would not get sick again
And I did
Don’t hate me because
I said I would not reach out or open
And I did
Hate me because
I do not know who you are
or what you want
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.16.12:00:00@AVA
00.01.19.01:00:00@NYC
How Long?
How Long
Will you whisper those sweet words into my ears?
How Long
Will you tease me with your seductive moves?
How Long
Will you be present in my life today?
How Long
Will it be until you accept my invitation?
How Long
Will it be until you say yes and smell the flowers?
How Long
Will it be until you drink the ice-water beside your bed?
How Long
Will you keep your smiles in my mind?
How Long
Will you send romantic signals to my heart?
How Long
Will you shy away from the feelings you feel?
How Long
Will you wait for the moment to rise?
How Long
Will you wait for me to be gone?
How Long
Will you wait for a fantasy to become a reality?
How Long
Until you put away rules and become an Artful Heart?
How Long
Until you share the holidays with me?
How Long
Until you roll with me on the divine bed?
How Long
Will you sing in my footsteps?
How Long
Will you flaunt your cheer and beauty in front of me?
How Long
Will you fall until you let me catch you?
How Long?
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.11.23.01:58:31@296NYC
99.12.09.24:52:39@296NYC
He is Witnessitis
He painted his fingers
He will wait for the sheep to come to him
He likes the smell of fresh baked bread
He wishes to dine with her at that silver place
He rides a bike
He conquers cities
He owns a gun that he does not wish to use
He dies every day
He is in heat
He strays from the junkies and thieves
He hears people tell him that he is a manipulator
He walks the streets full of subconscious persons
He is not prestige enough
He must take photographs
He is gay, he is an artist, he writes poetry, he must be gay
He lasts with a golden flower
He paid his dues
He has no best friend
He drives a Porsche
He develops his own drugs
He is an angel
He has curiosity that kills him on corners
He has not been mugged
He crosses the street in front of speeding cars
He cleans up his city
He is full of noise and quietness
He will beat the living shit out of you if you fuck up
He would die for a friend or any other being
He loves to read
He eats language for breakfast
He was the one that started the fire
He can take the blame
He smelt death
He bashed his head on four nails on a locked door to say peace nightly
He danced to the punk scene for inspiration
He has a heavy lord
He melts like burnt buffalo
He is new year’s special
He laughed at serious love
He created a symphony with blood and semen
He was taught
He left suddenly and unexpectedly
He never gave the tape to each one
He chained her down
He floated
He became your memory
He carved the orange tree
He thought of a new ism in his itis
He is an important witness
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.05.18:02:09:49@296NYC
Hit Man
Kind of like book ends and access to lifeforms unknown by human kind.
It’s unexplained, left unemptied, shot at, and eaten to a terrible pulp.
And it could be like round, scrumptious firm breasts, or can we say tits?, that
are quite wonderfully squeezable to the touch. And they didn’t know that wild
animals were in the zoo, but I knew, I knew you far even better than you knew
yourself. Shark! Shark! Driving down 9th ave and 17th st for a boner I’ve
never met.
Do some research, babe, and have a ciggie, on me, captain jack!
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.02.08.17:42:20@NYC
Him
Because you cry when you sing
And pour sweat down the guitar which you play
Because you hug and miss those who share
And sing with gloria in the flames of my eye
Because you understand and I compare Vox to you
And not you to Vox
Because you sculpt angels in front of us all
And back home in your own cathedral
Because you connect and share the joy
And possess a talent that exceeds most
Because passion is a name you know
And a policy you follow
Because you buy food for the homeless
And have patience for Jack Daniel’s and holy water
Because you bring all up on stage
And do not conform with society’s limits
Because your friends and wife have stood by
And you have keen interests in your followers
Because you bow down to those who you love
And respect yourself the same amount
Because from Nyack to New York City I knew you
And the glare in your eye highlights the crowd you draw
Because you have climbed with us
And not on top of us
Because you have held our hands together
And made peace in my heart; and theirs, nightly
Because you save many from the streets of sorrow
And committed to the journey of desire
Because you are not ashamed to change
And try the new
Because you kneel
And not charge
Because you appreciate and welcome
And stare down at the bullets of evil
Because you are who you are
And we thank you for sharing your beauty
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.01.24.24.00:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
99.01.24.06.00:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
99.01.25.24.44:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
99.02.04.02.33:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
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
Home
Home is where you think
Home is where you choose
Home is where you live
Home is
Over here
And over there
Home is mine
And yours
Home is his, hers, and theirs
Home is below and beyond
Above and inside
Home is music and art
Home is sex and poetry
Home is my lover and my partner
Home is my family and friends
Home is where children are beaten
And kids go home to kill themselves
Home is where wives get beaten and raped
And men get drunk and snort
Home is a junkie’s palace and whore’s nightmare
Home is a July bath and pilgrimage
Home is a safety slut and music concourse
Home is a rotten body in hell
And a governor’s secret
Home is a religious sacrifice
And a family reunion
Home is a place for self-esteem escapees
And starving rabies
Home is America and Antarctica
Home is Singapore and London
Belfast and Chile
Home is butterflies and flowers
Daisies and valleys
Home is tunes and currents
And fellowship wings
Home is brothers and sisters
And kind thoughts progressing
Home is a coffin
And cemetery
Home is a church and temple
A revenge and jungle
Home is my control
And your lost feeling
Home is a devil’s prophet
And a ruler’s gold
Home is a bunker and a blanket
A sailor and a buddy
Home is a doll and car truck
A river of scum
Flowing down earthling drains
Home is a toilet
Constantly being flushed
Home is the de-fucked earth
Swallowed up in corporate problems
Spilled oil
And burnt forests
Hard-to-breathe air folk
And jet engine silence
Home is Nuclear war
And racist handshakes
Home is color bled dyes
And revolution wars
Home is sweet
And to be shared
Home is ours
And will forever be there
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.05.25.00:00:00@NYC
The Hit
So anyway, I was going down Grand Central Parkway, right. Right, and I see this guy, right, on the side of the road. And he’s just like standing there. In all this traffic, right, and I see him, on the side. So, I stop by him, right. He was a hitchhiker. So, right, I picked him up. So, we continue driving, right, down the parkway, right. I’m headed for the Triborough bridge, right. To go up north to the New England states, right. With the hitchhiker. And we continue, right, and the hitchhiker then warns me. Right, he says to me, “There are people up ahead, on the right shoulder, their car is broken down.” Right, okay. So, I’m warned, and then the hitchhiker said to me, “Why don’t you hit them?” So, still on Grand Central Parkway, right, heading towards Triborough bridge, I continue. And then, right, as I approach the people. I hit them all, right, just like them being dominoes, right.
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.05.04.17:18:12@NYC
hey what’s up?
the sky
the elevator
the bird
the crane
the building
the cloud
the sign
the erection
the statue
the kite
the balloon
the life
the angel
the melon
the thought
the higher one
the jumper
the plane
the dream
the desire
the picture
the frame
the sun
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.04.01.01:00:00@31USQWNYC
Hug
Jesus Christ
a superstar
He parted those seas
red of blood
Moses, my hero
The army men
shot down
The cross
burn him bad
I love that beach
where you have been
sitting in the sun
no religion too
it’s easy if you try
so, try it
you’ll like it
art is fun
for you and me
put me aside
at your side
feel the warmth
the image
your eyes
mystery
woman of the night
penetrate my mind
invade thy thought
come inside
the darkness is yours tonight
your eyes
mystery is your middle name
sea of rust
sea of dust
take me now
to that peaceful place
full of butterflies
and blue jay birds
full of dandelions
and sunflowers too
take me to that beach
where you lay upon
show me the way
to your heart
maybe I’ll discover
what i never believed in
maybe I’ll discover
turn on the light
after the night
turn on the light
after the shag
light up a ciggie
take a glass
of water tonight
sleep
sleep tonight
sleep without me...
sleep with me...
cuddle in my arms....
waiting..........
a hug is yours...
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.02.26.00:00:00@31USQWNYC
He
It is
a reverend
a priest
a god
It is
a holy one
a rabbi
a leader
It is
a follower
a bird
a gargoyle
It is
hope
a dream
an inspiration
It is
a thorn
a gripping hold
a terrible fear
teeth sharp
fear it
you thrill it
you fuck it
but it still keeps coming back
It
fuckin’
fucks you over
It
fuckin’
explodes in your face
in front of god
demand the american flag
forever it is yours
Burn
the sucka
reach that cross
take off those hoods
bow to thy feet
kiss my ass
fuck me hard
Cross it up
hang him down
portray that breast
on a silver platter
for my very best feast
Then it hits you
in all its glory
red, white, and blue
the demanding rain
thundering
loud, bang bang bang
Then it hits you
it is the thief of your heart
my little devil friend
i conquer you
fuck your soul
take you higher
to the plateau of utopia
beyond the land
across sea to sea
fuckin’ shining
It is
corporate
and religious
fake
and real
It is
yours
and mine
his
and hers
It is
behind and in front
below and above
in the dark and in the light
You like it
you have a great thirst for it
you are hungry for it
you ache for it
it is a cock
a pussy
It is words
thoughts
what is it?
what is it not?
Is it a question?
an answer?
a goal?
a completion?
a pleasure?
a poem?
a destination?
Find it
be it
fuck it
feel it
see it
hear it
smell it
taste it
Then
and only then
will
maybe
you will understand
what
he
he is talking about
he is about
he is
Who is that he??
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.02.03.02:14:00@31USQWNYC
A Holy One
A holy one
Resourceful
Full of life, and death
Mine for the taking
You for the giving
I love to give
And tonight,
I give you me.
Ride me thru the night
High above me
Rock above me
On my cock
My hard dick
Fuck me hard
Bounce your tits
Lick me
Suck me
Fuck me
Harder
And I will cum
And you will see
That you have won.
[Yeah, right, you’ll never win, but you can fuck me anyway]
© 1996 David Greg Harth
96.12.14.01:15:00@31USQWNYC
How To Survive A Hospital Stay
First of all, do not eat the food
Ignore the doctors
For they are our friends,
but do not trust them.
Think about throwing the little crying children out of the window
And gaze into your surroundings
at the streets below and sky above
Play games, like name as many words that start with the letter “L.”
Lollipops
And laughing lions
Large lamps
or lightning linear lines
While in the bathroom, count the ceramic tiles
Drink all the apple juice
And fill the rubber gloves with water,
Yes now we have RGWB’S, no not a disease,
but a Rubber Glove Water Balloon.
When done with the first lesson,
now turn on the foreign TV station,
and make believe you enjoy the music
Then call another patient’s room and annoy them
After that, of course, move your bed up and down, until it breaks
Then press the button for the nurse,
When she comes, “Oh, sorry, I just wanted to know if it worked.”
Last but not least, sit by the window and look as the scene
The cops nailed another one
The truck delivered it’s bandaids
The Mercedes and Jags, and Lexuses and BMWs all roll in
The people flirting
and the bum drinking
Then you glance up, see your reflection in the glass
and then you realize and say, “Why God, why me?”
© 1992 David Greg Harth
92.05.02.22:00:00@NewCityNY