Untitled (Mystery Woman)
You are a mystery woman to me.
You are large at heart, nothing at sight.
You are everything at mind, everything in the imagination.
I know you by words, not by sight nor by sound.
I know you by vibes, feelings, and truth,
But not by lies.
You are a wind.
I am an angel.
You are a flame.
I am an angel.
You are a rose.
I am an angel.
You are a berry.
I am an angel.
You are a valley of sweetness.
I am an angel.
You are hope
I am an angel.
You are missing.
I am an angel.
You are perceived.
I am an angel.
You are words.
I am an angel.
You are there.
I am an angel.
You are who?
What color are your eyes?
Your eyes?
© 1996 David Greg Harth
96.10.07.12:30:00@31USQWNYC
Untitled (Thoughts Behind)
I come to you in the night
by way of the stars.
I awake with you at the yellow dawn.
by way of the morning sun.
I embrace your loveliness
by way of my arms.
I take you by the hand
I guide you to my water.
I cleanse you up and down
I show you the water.
I clear your thoughts
I soothe your back.
I tear at your heart
asking for more.
I stand behind you
My hands on your shoulders
Rubbing your back
My knee against your bottom cheeks
My arms wrapped around your waist
I guide my hands to your navel
The suds glide downward, my hands upward
My fingers run across your breasts
Tight squeeze
A hug of love
Behind you, I am not ashamed.
Behind you, I am erect.
My hands run across your hard red nipples.
© 1996 David Greg Harth
96.10.07.03:30:00@31USQWNYC
Untitled (Dark Love)
allow me
bend your neck
curve toward the shadow
let me in
a penetration
sunken teeth
withdraw thy blood
allow me
to show you a way
a river shadow
a dark lover
be with the blackness
come toward the light
the light of grey
show me your beauty
the puncture I will create
let me suck out your blood
be a devil to the daughter
be a horror to your imagination
be real to thy flesh
I in black, you in black
lace and silk sheet tonight
candle burns
heat in overdrive
turn towards the mirror
and beware
no reflection in sight
an angel came down one day
he said
then again
a devil dug upwards
toward the sky
toward her inner thigh
suck and suck
the one in black
wings of glory
in all its fury
soar the skies
the midnight moons
then,
you might discover...
his drive
his shadow
his beneath-the-belt
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.10.02.01:27:00@NYC
Roy Lichtenstein
I had a friend,
just the other day,
my friend Roy,
he died today
From little ones
to big ones
his dots always
had me
grabbed me
made me unstable
on solid ground
His retrospective
winding up the Guggenheim walls...
His thin, structural body,
standing tall,
another member,
of that Cedar bar,
I’m sure.
Roy,
why did you have to go?
my bible is empty?
my letter undelivered?
Roy,
where will you plot?
without a last dot?
Roy,
how come there is a fighter jet
a child with a toy
yet an image of
destruction?
Don’t go,
for I only knew you...
for so many years...
and more to come
more to dream of
dream with...
I had a friend,
just the other day,
my friend Roy,
he died today
In New York City
he passed away
Center of POP
for you and me
I’ll be there
will U2?
In the city
glorious lights
Mondrian’s Broadway
city delights
Roy,
tell me your daughter’s name,
before you go
send me a present
a lesson of the future,
before you go
A beg
a round-a-bout
come inside,
have a cup of coffee,
it’s all I can offer
to a god of pop
a god of pop.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.09.30.12:45:00@505MAHWAH
Erotic is...
a midnight wonder
a slick date
a shy pussycat
a feather
an ice cube
a shower above
a cold touch
cozy socks
and flannel pj’s
back rubs
family and friends
your place or mine
today or tomorrow
sunsets and sunrises
the bay shore and the gulf of
cruises without bruises
no fighting or war
troubles gone with sorrow
news of good; not evil
clouds that bring sunshine
memories, in the memory box
communication
partners whom speak
beating down; that sunshine
doves, blue birds, and penguins too
arches, golden, an inspiration
sex over there, sex over here
seas, oceans, and a bed of roses
petals, fields, fluffy puffy stuff
backyard swing sets
barbecue spice
holiday time
seasons in the air
fresh baked
no mother is fake
your grandmother’s stories
sister’s too
your friend’s best cherished orb
and your last year’s card
Erotic is...
a fireplace
a hearth felt warm
cotton, earth tones, valleys too
boundaries and contributions
covered by law, conquered by bridges
babies, a kitten’s first light, a kangaroo’s hop
a skip skip, skip to my loo
a mountain top,
a scotch
and a cover band
the jetsons, play-doh, and scooby-doo
Mr magoo, where are you?
an island with gilligan,
and a Family in the All
Whose line?
i’m not sure,
ask benny or monty,
they are erotic too
a wim wenders film
a crashing car?
latex, lace, and leather too
handcuffs, silver, a beggar’s change
a tribal beat
a fresh piece of meat
a heavenly god
mary’s st jude
lucifer’s actions
and god on his knees
art
poetry
your music inside your head;
let’s get wed.
numbers and letters
jumble too
jingle all along the way
and then one day -
E R O T I C A ! !
E R O T I C A ! !
a fourth floor song
a street on 42nd
come, cum to the place
a grand ‘ole time
25 cents a 125 channels
Erotic is....
a Miami girl
a Sarajevo accents
a womyn on a television
the weather person’s prediction
a heroin’s addiction
a guy named nixon
i think a cat will need a fixin’
Erotic is....
strawberries, whipped creme, bananas too
strap-ons, if you can’t handle it - -
you shouldn’t be here
or in there
or able to
read, right of the nation
political nation
songs about peace
agony on the streets
Please, a Warhol cover
a tune to make a lover
Please, a Warhol show
they won’t ever,
ever,
be this low
Erotic is....
that first kiss,
a bear hug
when that train pulls up...
out pops your lover
your lover
a gaze into an eye
amber or gold
blue or oceana
green or pigment
a raised eyebrow
or nothing more
pollution making beauty
a stunned white nudity
Erotic is....
at that moment,
...
that one moment in time...
when you realize...
he is for you...
she is for you...
together, a moment,
shared but understood...
loved.
the feeling...
nothing can explain it...
Its Erotic.
erotic - adj; 1. of, devoted to, or tending to arouse
sexual love or desire <~art>
2. strongly affected by sexual desire
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.09.28.23:00:00@NYC
Untitled (Christmas Two)
leather straps
huge mountains
big trees
nature hikes
christmas stuffers
and midnight wonders
christmas is coming..
who will be..
under that mistletoe?
christmas is coming
who is weak,
who is strong?
please
on your knees
song from above
a heaven once lost
a gray cloud
no longer embraces
a hope
a glare
a sheer dress
slip under
over and out
white blouse
shower with
behind and around
frolic on the ground
playground
and heat
i think they will meet
time will tell
the tale of two
and two be it
when two are part of you
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.09.18.22:12:27@NYC
Untitled (White Mess)
Sheerness
Attractiveness
Make a mess
Clean up the spice
Wipe me clean
It’s not lean
Take it apart
Undo the button
Later
a lotion on your back
Tonight
back up against the wall
feel you around
clean up my mess
My mess
Pulled in
Squeeze
Thin, tight, tiger
up down, barret and all
curve #1
curve #2
mountain, feel it
valley, portray it
reflection
in the mirror:
make a mess.
white rose
lather
cleaned it up
white rose
blow the wind
white rose
with thorns
white rose; took her from the city
took her to the tropics
white rose
she cleaned up my mess
white rose
she made me make a mess
back rub
bend over
back rub
clean up the mess
outside
blinds down
a wonder and a john
then inside
wet down
smile
perk
a midnight nap
a twenty dollar ride
a late ride
then you wake up
try to explain
take an invite
after the mess
after, only,
that mess.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.09.15.15:29:41@NYC
Rain
it’s like that angel
one of heavenly desire
wet
dripping
it comes from above
and with all its honor and courage
it carries us inside
into the warmth
under the wings
we are guided
the rain pours
mixing the streams with rivers
rivers with oceans
a dance of water
a splash of wonder
he wonders
she sees a reflection
in the distance the sun
a rainbow color
together a one
the rain above
the water flows
cold and down
but the touch
the feel
that soothing rain
let it pour
let it come one
let it be
let it rain
rain
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.08.20.16:36:00@505Mahwah
Untitled (Love)
it holds you tight
holds you in
showers you with guilt
all about
it grasps you
the more you go
the deeper you are in
the more time
the greater the grip
it encompasses you
engulfs you
swallows you up
doesn’t let you breathe
it makes you think
makes you weak
takes your time
and makes great taste
it’s over there and over here
it’s all around
but never right here
but when inside
deep inside
it holds you
doesn’t allow you to leave
until you go
and wave goodbye
and then
a new one comes along
but, how long?
has it been?
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.07.21.02:06:00@NYC
Untitled (Comments On Love)
The measurements exceed
The unpredictable is only around the corner
The levels are complex
The confusion lies within
The alterations are not made
The voices are never heard
The thoughts race like buffalos
The memories intrude
The fantasies never become real
The dreams are death defying
The love is passionate but not local
The real time has come
The real one is here
Here I am.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.01.12.00:00:00@Earth
The Victim
who’s the victim?
I am.
You are.
The lion is.
The bastard is.
The love couch is.
The battered wife.
The fat kid.
I am.
You are.
The president is.
The tree is.
The ground is.
The food is.
Last night was.
She is.
My mother is.
My sister was.
Your lover will be.
I am.
You are.
Today will be.
The operator.
The listener.
The controller.
I am.
You are.
She is.
He is.
The inventor.
The consumer.
The watcher.
The walker.
Saturday & Sunday.
The midnight blues
The screen above
The ocean below
The thunder distance
The headlight under
The round corner
The leap
The current; electrified
The peg
The bird
I am.
You are.
The candle burning
The paper wasting
The weight holding
The tight rope
I am; you are... always.
I am.
One of them.
Always.
With or...
It’s time to go,
I have realized it
That I am a victim
Of abuse and loneliness
Of selfishness and pain
Of murder and draught
Of politics and art
Of love and hatred
Of rape and death
Of slavery and racism
Of sexism and complications
Of numbers
and letters
Of signs
and signatures
Of meadows
and pastures
Of priests
and food poisoning.
I am the victim.
I always was, always will be.
I am the one,
the one that “they”
are looking for.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.18.01:00:00@Earth
Untitled (Spare)
Spare it.
Spare the thought
Take the trip
Feel the reason
Don’t question a step
Don’t deny
Take a spin
Spare any lies
Go with the heart
Follow the streets
Follow that star
If the sun comes down
I will be there
If the sun comes down
I would like you to be there
Spare some time for me
I have all the time for you
Feel the sunlight
Feel the warmth I can give
Cradle you in my arms
All night long
An embrace
A beautiful one
A holding one
A real one
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.14.01:00:00@31USQWNYC
And Then The Rain Came
The sun came up
The trees made shadows
The pavement, dark, cool
The sun made patterns
Between the leaves
It fell,
To the ground
The sun came up
Over the hill,
Beyond the lake
The sun came up,
A beauty laid
She laid there,
On the blanket
Peacefully
She laid there,
Her hair glistened in the sun
Her eyes sparkled in the sun
She laid there,
Motionless,
But not emotionless,
she laid there; still
Beauty
Fine
A woman; like a statute
One to admire, one to respect, one to honor
Beauty,
Where the heart is and the sunshine flows
Where the sense is
Where the fountain of holding is
She is there, on that blanket
She is there, dressed in white
She is there, calm, and quite
She is there, wanting a hug
I took a walk one day
I saw that beauty
On that blanket
On that great grassy green field
Infront of the hills, below the sunshine
I took a walk one day
I saw her
That beauty
But where is she?
I cannot see her.
And then the rain came.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.12.17:26:19@NYC
Darkness
Approach the darkness
encompass it
hold it
let your dreams dive into it
share the memories
don’t be afraid
the love will last
and pull you through
the darkness
it makes us scared
and some strong
to me, though,
darkness is good,...
because you don’t know who kisses you.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.12.16:19:33@NYC
Tell
The rivers of red, they flow down virgin thighs
The pulling of sheets, the clench of a fist
The tears run down, the beauty cheeks
The yells unheard, from deep inside the heart
The power struggle, sounds are muffled
The reality of him, he over she
It may be a response, but a force will blow
It may be a fight, but the winner will not pull
Scratch his back, nice and calmly
Scratch his back, dig deep inside
Scratch his eyes, pull his hair
No bitch- lets pull yours
Pull down those borders
Pull down those barriers
Intrude, not to produce
Intrude, not to love
Intrude.
Spread open
Wide open
Don’t be alarmed
You will not be harmed
Don’t be fake
You aren’t going to wake
Kneel down
Kiss it baby
The river flows
That virgin river
The pool; in red
The pool; in horror
It’s not going to hurt
It’s not going to be an answer
Don’t tell
I’m only mama’s boy
Don’t tell
I’m your friend
Don’t tell
I’m your lover
Don’t tell
Tell
For we have to stop that virgin river.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.05.13:39:00@31USQWNYC
Yellow & Red
An angular turn toward the sky,
A screeching yell
He opens wide,
Yells to the heavens...
Maybe asking, a Why?
He turns, twists,
As the thunder holds him,
Tightly grasps him, squeezes,
He yells, screeches,
His pain, in red and yellow,
furious anger,
it rages above the land,
above the white cotton fields,
above the singular eggs,
above the smell of death,
His pain, he yells,
Maybe asking, a Why?
The reds, oranges, and yellows,
The anger, the pain,
Always alone, never lonely.
His teeth, sharp
His tongue, drips of blood,
bitten too hard,
after a midnight puncture
A morning call
A nighttime fall
After hours,
No more
Liquid down, time to feed,
the wind breaks the silence
the passengers cross the river
the obesity, the unshaven, that voice above,
and maybe later,
A higher one.
His pain, he yells,
In yellow and red,
for no love can rescue
for no love can predict
He thinks they are fake, they are real
He notices one by one,
and takes a poll
He comes down
for a while
Watches the shadow
from a 12th floor window
Watches the rain,
the beasts,
the rich men too.
The arrested man,
convicted from his mother,
from gold to poor,
from a voice of no more.
His pain reaches out,
for a higher reason,
a wonderful dream,
no.
not this time.
Yellow and red, slash them tonight.
Yellow and red, may I be yours tonight?
Yellow and red, he fuck her, she fuck him.
Yellow and red, my father
Yellow and red, a lover in bed
Yellow and red, he wants suicide
Yellow and red, one is good
Yellow and red, anger is food
His pain, it comes deep within
But surely you know,
It isn’t a jX or a hooker
It isn’t a nX or a chic
It isn’t a gX or a cheese
It isn’t a pig or a fowl
It’s that Yellow and Red.
The blood of anger.
You know what it is
What it is caused by.
Maybe you are part of it.
Maybe you are not.
Yellow and Red.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.05.01:34:00@31USQWNYC
Do you prefer angels or devils?
On sunny days I like angels.
On rainy days I like devils.
On some sunny days I like devils.
On some rainy days I like angels.
On all sunny days I like angels.
On all sunny days I like devils.
On all rainy days I like angels.
On all rainy days I like devils.
Sometimes I am one.
Or the other.
Other times I pretend. Or dress up.
Other times, its someone in the mirror,
or over my shoulder.
Sometimes you are.
I prefer both.
Red or Cold.
Heaven and Hell.
Both, below and above,
from the East they come.
Dig down or rise high.
It’s a position I’m always in.
A debate I continue every day.
Sunny or rainy.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.05.01.01:33:00@NYCUSA
Las Vegas
City lights
People with delights
My inspiration
An old man’s perspiration
It’s a devil’s book
A ladies look
Nighttime breast
A gambler’s nest
In my memory
With a girl named Sherry
A car cruise
I’m going to lose
It’s a desire
A slut for hire
It’s a die
For the men in tie
Glorious shows
The city flows
Rich & poor
Clothes on the floor
Desert sky
I’m going to fry
Bush for dessert
She’s going to hurt
Glitter, Gold, & the underground gun
Oh My God - What fun!
Rent-A-Car on the strip
The husband going to flip
Pocketbook
The midnight shook
Sunray
Nobody gay
Can you beat the heat?
Make them eat the meat
The virgin flower
The dark prowler
Young girls
Cheap thrills
The money slots
Cheater’s plots
The back table
It’s gonna be a fable
Your problem, a lust
As I go, a must
Here the sounds
There won’t be any frowns
It’s America’s pearl
Big Mac will hurl
It’s a wanker’s dream
Nobody’s a team
It’s play money
Will you be my honey?
It’s a loser’s luck
Do you wanna fuck?
It’s white man’s riches
Full of bitches
It’s a wife beater
Whose gonna be a cheater?
It’s god’s hand
West of Graceland
The boy’s first
The drunk’s thirst
The women lost
How about a frost?
The women strut
The doors shut
Hairy man
Rack of lamb
Gourmet meal
Dolphin & seal
Hotel tower
Couple in the shower
I’m gonna make dough
I’m not gonna go
We’ll get wed
I’ll get head
She’ll get laid
I’ll get a maid
It’s America’s wonder
Come on under
It’s everyone’s depression
A lasting impression
It’s America cheese
People on their knees
In all its glory
Cheese of fury
It’s Vegas
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.04.18.16:36:00@505MAHWAHLVinsp
Swimming
I have parked in others spaces. I do it all the time. I love to do it. I pay to do it. They invite me. I have an invitation. I have proof. I have love; a devil’s look. A devil’s gold. I have a number. The first in line. A wonder about tradition. A complexity of design. A summer dream. A wet pillow. It’s a sunrise on the beach. One over the buildings, below the docks. The summer is ending, the life has just begun. See it, the garden? The apple trees? I own them. Come let’s play.... We will do our own surgery. Make a new living. The art of surgery. You love me, don’t you? Come, come to my house. There is a party. A new one for you, and for me. Let go. It’s time to go. Let’s go swimming.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.04.12.17:05:00@31USQWNYC