Loneliness and Hopelessness
I just do what I do,
those who listen, listen
those who do not, don’t
those who seek, will seek,
those who are afraid, will remain afraid,
but when they come out of the shadows,
that’s when my beautiful dream is shattered
and I can only live
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.28.15:46:17 @ NYC 1515
Return The Start
Don’t kiss me
back
Don’t kiss me
because I kissed you first
Don’t kiss me
because I started too
Don’t kiss me
because you feel obligated too
Don’t kiss me
to finish up
Don’t kiss me
to satisfy me
Kiss me
because
YOU
want to kiss me
Because when you kiss me for any other reason
I feel like the lowest human being on earth
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.28.02:00:00 @ AVA
00.02.28.10:15:00 @ I95
Red Indian Moon
She moves like the silent moon
Over red land in the heart
She destroys the defenses
And makes the warriors weak and ache
She barrels down potions
While the night sky can only look on
I stand in her shadows wishing on sacred lands
And learn the art of sacrifice
Dozens bow to her beauty and silence
People gather and pray to the natural
She hears the beats of the drum
As I attempt to listen to the beats of her heart
She dances in the sun fields
And makes senseless of the innocent
She is still as a windless day
Making the current strong in the mighty river
Her eyes are life fire power
Strong and deadly to the look of desire
Her beauty is no comparison to mother nature
Or to the doves in the clouds
Her scent makes flowers unite
And men speechless with smiles
I know her well under the bright moon
And know the sudden dance of redness
All I can do is dance around in patterns of joy
And circle like an eagle hunter that is blind
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.31.16:59:17 @ New York City
00.02.24.03:15:20 @ New York City
X
I’ve made you
I’ve created you
From dirt earth
From Indian ground!
I’ve clamped down upon you
Captured you
Made you hell
I swallowed you whole!
I bit your nipples
And climbed on top
I tore your leather garter off
And forgot that the dogs were watching!
I create pornography for you
Made a school cum-back
Reached inside and grabbed a wet one
And did it all over again!
Youve made me hard
I don’t want to go back
My hands cupping your breasts
Shower down with me!
You are a great X
A Lover
A Secret
A Mother Fucker!
Lets get down
Get kinky
Sexxy
Luscious and dirty!
Leaking and sneaking
Out back, around, tonight
Sugar beat
See you at midnight!
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.09.15:00:00@1515nyc
00.02.24.02:40:00@296nyc
Night Tracker
Last night, after going to my favorite prostitute,
on East 30th St, I stopped by the 24-hour diner on 2nd avenue.
I had a greasy grilled-cheese sandwich
and a side plate of hot French fries with tomato ketchup.
I could still smell the scent of cheap sweet awful sex
on my hands and face as I ate alone.
I had a root beer and had to get a refill.
Then I had a plate of horrible chocolate cake
with chocolate chips on the sides.
and a nice good glass of cold skim milk.
Although I was not allowed to read the paper.
I recalled a bitch calling me a prick earlier that day for nodding my head
and denying her a donation of money for a lie she has created at the
subway station.
Everywhere I look is a couple. A couple here or there.
Persons hugging, female and male or women together or men holding hands.
Park benches filled with kissing couples and copulating in my head and
On my shoulders.
Tell me, if a restaurant only has one couple in it,
is the restaurant bad or is the couple really good?
I realize where my partner is.
Flying on a jet plane the other day I was sitting on the West
So, I can see my sunset.
And the point between the sun setting
and the lightning in the thunder-storm clouds,
Right between the horizon and cloud lines,
That’s where my partner exists
But unfortunately, I’ll never meet them
Maybe lack of effort or seeking or hiding or hunting
But I do fuck my art every day.
Well, what I mean is I make love to it.
I put art first and maybe one day I’ll put my partner first.
Or maybe not.
I called up the suicide hot-line.
The person on the other end of the phone convinced me
that I have things worth living for.
Although the gun in my palms disagrees
So, instead of killing myself, I write this poem about my agony for all of you.
And some of you may think, where does the line of truth begin or end?
And where does the line of lies begin or end?
I was all prepared, I had my list ready, my favorite song was playing, but
instead of picking up a slug, I picked up the phone; are you happy now?
War is something I’ve never been to. But I do create mine daily.
They are driving me nuts. The people, the slow, the computers, the lies,
the advertisements, the fame, the art, the songs, the stench, the poor, the
disease, the love, the acting, the bills, the information, the creation,
the make-believes, the obsessions, the politics, the job, the lack,
I could go on.
Counting bathroom tiles never helped.
Apple juice is all I ever wanted.
The Two-Pupil-Eyed-Man is something that no one will understand,
Although only one person knows about him
And a team knows what he can be.
One time, when I was very young,
I was at the beach, down on the New Jersey shore
(No, I’m not from there, I was born in my city)
Looking over the deep blue ocean, at nighttime
A song came over the outdoor radio of the motel
The yellow gold lights that surrounded the pool
They made it so beautiful
My partner appeared in front of me and then suddenly left.
There once was a partner whom I chased around the playground
I remember her hair and wind perfectly that day.
In nursery school I wore a mustard golden-yellow T-Shirt
It had an iron-on glitter decal with bright colors
It said “Lover Boy”
Interesting, the prostitute said I’m big. How do I know?
I don’t know what big is? Shall I compare it to when I was smaller?
When I was smaller I asked my father to wipe my ass clean of shit because I
didn’t want my hands near that stuff. One time I slid into the bathroom and
my bottom lip fell off and the neighbors heard me screaming on the way to the
hospital. Sometimes, many times, I wish I would go back to the
hospital. So, I can have another break, a few beers when I get out, not
worry about crap and not work. But I wake up every morning just as good, or
bad, as the last. But one morning, you won’t hear from me anymore...
at least for a little while.
Sadness is something we all have.
What has an effect on it?
Art? Music? Film? Literature?
The lack of something or someone?
Relief is something we all have.
It’s amazing to me, that throughout the wars we’ve had.
Like Vietnam and Desert Storm, that both enemies,
they both have to shit and sneeze.
Doesn’t that boggle you?
That they are both human?
Yet they both kill each other?
Both sneeze. Both shit. Both kill.
Some peope say I make run-on poems
I don’t really give a damn
Maybe this isn’t a poem
But a forum of collected or remembered or created thoughts
Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a copyright or a camera up my ass or a forest on
fire or a cement truck implanted on a towering breast or a sex madness
episode or the misunderstanding and perception of feelings, smells, and
tastes of the inner-self?
Again, I called.
I saved.
I have my soundtrack; do you have yours?
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.08.05.03:33:33 @ 296 New York City
99.08.12.24:17:17 @ 296 New York City
99.08.15.22:00:20 @ 296 New York City
99.08.24.23:25:12 @ 296 New York City
99.09.05.21:25:10 @ 296 New York City
99.11.17.02:09:11 @ 296 New York City
00.02.24.02:15:10 @ 296 New York City
Love Is Dead
I’d rather share my love
With the pavement I spit on
Then give my love to you
I’d rather distribute my love
To the junkyard dog
Then give my love to you
I’d rather French kiss an ox
And eat rusty nails
Then give my love to you
I’d rather deliver my love
To a hijacker in the Middle East
Then give my love to you
I’d rather fuck a goat
And eat poison ivy
Then give my love to you
I’d rather dispense my love
To cockroaches eating my dinner
Then give my love to you
I’d rather swallow a cum from a priest
And fuck my mother
Then give my love to you
I’d rather share my love
To the shit I make in the toilet
Then give my love to you
I’d rather be dead
And make my family sad
Then give my love to you
I’d rather distribute my love
To the underarm sweat in prisons
Then give my love to you
I’d rather deliver my love
To slugs on dirt
Then give my love to you
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.22.10:05:00@I95(PPB)
00.02.23.12:22:00@1515NYC
Liar
I’m a liar
A vicious liar
I lie in cycles
Never coming out
I lied about my virginity
I lied about how many people I’ve slept with
I lied about how old I am
I lied about who I was
I lied about my love for you
I lied about my sexuality
I lied about my history
I lied about my wishes
I lied in that poem
I lied in that painting
I lied when I spoke to you
I lied when I made love to you
I lied when I hugged you
I lied when I killed you
I lied about the secret
I lied about the truth
I lied about masturbation
I lied about breaking glass
I lied when I said I enjoyed you
I lied when I whispered in your ear
I lied when I kissed you
I lied when I fell behind
I lied to my mother
I lied to my father
I lied to my friend
I lied to my lover
I’m a liar
A fuckin liar
Nothing but a liar
A low, selfish liar
A fuckin liar
Destructed
Destroyed
Fucked
A Liar.
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.22.17:23:51@1515NYC
Rabbits (Version #3)
They tickled me
Held me tightly
But she turned her back
And walked away
In the April morning
Now left alone
With nothing in my nude
Just the taste in my mouth
From last night’s smile
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.22.16:56:18 @ 1515 NYC
Lost Among The Cats
Lost among the cats
Sugar in mind
Remembering what two men said
Seeing a written sign
Two men follow
One in London
One in the District
The Dollar Man
He laughs
Counts
Smiles at me
With I’ll Get Over
The Romantic Man
He arises
Writes
Smiles at The Dollar Man
With definitive understanding
Sugar enjoys before
Don’t remember the professors
Or last night nurses
Or who is on stage
Lost among the cats
Repeating a reassuring phrase
Helping me now
But the innocence
Don’t know if its
Changed
True
Or written on a card
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.21.00:00:00 @ AVA
Emergency Room
The room spins around you
Vertically and Horizontally
Get a tingle in the left portion of your brain
And numbness
And weakness
Down your entire left side
Down your neck and arm
Down your chest and thigh and leg
Throughout your bony structure and thin painted skin
And you wonder
Is the world rotating
Is this me and will I wake up myself
Again?
And you wonder
Will someone catch me
Or will I hit the floor?
And after doing money exchanges
And getting beverage for thirst and food for consumption
You veer left
Walking left
And prop yourself against the wall
Head toward the elevator
And wonder
Does anyone see this?
Successfully placing yourself on a lift
You arrive in style
Brain warm
And you wonder
Who to call first or what to do and how to shed a tear
For I know I’m still me today
But what about tomorrow?
And you wonder
Who will know
And who will not
Who will get to speak with me
And who will not?
And you wonder
Who will pay rent
And who will pay for food
Who will pay for this
And who for that?
As you take the twenty-one dollar cab ride home
Or your favorite spot by the little red light house
Just under the George Washington Bridge
Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center
You run across familiar architecture and a path you’ve always known
And you look up at the American Flag and remember the 12th
And you remember glass and tests and dots and pancakes and bananas and
sheets and pillows and laws and rules and black and white and tunnels and
peace symbols and doors with nails
And as you approach
And tell the story again
See a familiar face again
And a warm smile
You realize
It’s still you, just a change,
Not a choice, not a time, just a change
And all that’s in your head
Is a single thought
Of those who you cannot get out of your mind
As you sit there
In a New York City Hospital
You wonder why you cannot have a normal room
Or who is normal?
I sit in the GYN room full with stirrups and I act and joke and be me
Talk of more MRIs and Spinal Taps
Nothing new
Just had a CT scan and EKG, no Spect Scan or EEG or Angiogram this time
Take my blood, prick me, tickle me, stick me, and tell me I’m a mystery
Welcome on board
Now I can cry with the music I cannot hear
Mirrors can’t be seen
The windows are hidden
And those who you wish cared, did not
And those who are blind, remain blind
And you know the only thing you’ve got
Is the one person who is in your world
Yourself
Myself
Me
And you know it’s not a dream
You aren’t even testing yourself
Images of the past come and go
And all you can do is smile
Because you know you are in medical history
But more importantly
You know it will be sunny the next day,
McDonalds French fries taste great,
movies rewind,
and someone is waiting for your return with a smile I’ll never forget
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.14.23:55:02 @ 296 NYC
00.02.16.01:45:13 @ 296 NYC
I’m Broken (Version #2)
Broken
Crushed
Left alone in the morning hour
In the old wet rain
No embrace
Or soft touch
Alone with a bad taste in my mouth
As I shake my head and squint
Broken
Defeated
Empty without a heart
No longer full of desire, more ache
Captivated by her smile
Her wonderful kindness
And beautiful brown eyes
I’ll never share
Broken
Stranded
I have a full bed to myself now
Nothing close, nothing to care for
Remembering her scent
Getting wrapped up in it all
All I can do is twist and turn
And rub the lasting one on
Broken
Lost
Not knowing what to do
I should run, escape
Close up shop
Pour my tears
And lock the doors
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.12.10:16:00@AVA
Destruction of Innocence
Dive into the mere nothingness of vast blackness
dead sky
and lonely chambers
that I once knew
I can buy you a music personality
make you a hand puppet
and give you my puppy dog eyes
under my skin
I’m just a scratched hunter
insecure of pleasure
underdeveloped in the area of redness
and silent in timely hopes
Let me breathe
and push me away
I’ll find you under trap doors
and beneath the sea
Become forbidden with me
tear yourself away
Become silent with me
and lay under the stars
Let me in
and you’ll be my magnet
I’ll find you under the rubble
and beneath the flame
Become bitten with me
surrender to your surroundings
Become bonded with me
and smile with my smirk
I claim the moon to be yours
it’s my gift to you
the stars are for you
all this for you
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.01.16:45:11 @ NYC
00.02.08.22:15:15 @ Brooklyn
00.02.09.01:53:50 @ 296 NYC
00.02.09.12:35:41 @ 1515 NYC
For You (Version #2)
I did it because I loved you
I did it because I cared for you
Because I held your hand
Because I fed you
And nursed you
I did it because I didn’t want you to be in pain
And because I didn’t want to witness
I did it because you asked
Because you knew it was coming
I did it because you phoned me earlier
And told me how you felt
I did it because there was no one else
Because of the look in your eyes
I did it for you
And only for you
I pulled your plug
And now you are dead
And I live alone
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.08.14:28:39 @ 1515 nyc
Love (Version #06)
Love is something invented
To make everyone feel guilty
Trespass or cheat
Love is something everyone wishes for
To make all self-conscious
Die or live for
Love is something that only exists
Among yourself if you accept
Those who love you back
Love is something imaginary
Making us all to appear to exist
Or breathe with the ease of knowing
Love is something extraordinary
Created by individuals who share
Because they want to be cared for
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.08.14:15:32 @ 1515 nyc
Red Stadium Light
Red stadium light
Penetrated you and I
She was silhouetted
All I can see was bright light
Tingle through my veins
Blood boiling
Warmth from the blast
She was dancing high above
Standing on the chairs
Facing forward towards the light
Grooving, Powerful, Feeling
Falling from airplanes
Catching yourself in the net of love
Reaching, Holding her
My hand on her waist
From behind
Red stadium light
It ignited us
Made my flames burn
Made my tears think
Made my feet tumble from underneath me
Red stadium light
Rained down upon me
Blue sky overnight
Warm air breathed in
She danced in front of me
Like fire in the wind
Like sails in the sea
Like dandelions in the field
Red stadium light
It bounced all around us
My head down in shame
Leaving with nothing
I saw the insides
I explored
I had my twist
I had my time
Now all I can do is walk away
Walk out
Before it’s too late
Before you go
Before the red light goes down
Before the sky turns to dawn
Now all I can do is walk towards you
Walk in
After you have given
After you came
After the red light goes down
After the stars go to sleep
But before I go
Or after I go
Know this
The red light is always on
The stadium lights are always on
Until a box is let loose
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.08.13:09:33 @ 1515 NYC
I’m Broken
I’m broken
I’m defeated
I’m lost
I’m in the negative dust now
Surrounded by cold darkness
In the ache of a larger heart
I can’t save myself
Can’t perform
Can’t climb out
Or dig out of the grave
I’m broken
I’m defeated
I’m lost
This is just a dream
A big wet dotted grid
A battle of redness
I’m swollen now
Cracked
Hit
Smacked
I’m on the railroad
I’m hitchhiking across the U.S.A.
I’m nobody
I’m nothing
I’m broken
I’m defeated
I’m lost
My eyes blink
My arms move
My knees give in
And lose my balance and fall
Should I stay or go?
Maybe I’ll just become a fool
Time after time
Hurt
Outreached hand
Bloody palm
From aching heart
And tears of hope
I’m broken
I’m defeated
I’m lost
I’m limp
I’m numb
I’m crying alone
I’m dirt
I’m disgusted
I’m wasted
I’m drunk
I’m a doormat
I’m shattered
I’m smoking now
I’m a disease
I’m a singer of tears
I’m walking in circles
I’m a circular saw blade
I’m burnt into ashes
Thinking hurting
Challenged
Given up
Controlled
Poured
Should have remained silent
I’m broken
I’m defeated
I’m lost
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.06.10:20:15@296
00.02.07.17:28:41@1515
00.02.08.11:37:07@1515
Oma and Opa (Version #3)
I stopped everything
To go watch my grandmother die
I took the A train uptown to 207th St
And walked up the street where the black squirrels ran
Three children were sledding down the snow covered hill
In laundry baskets, sleds, and cookie sheets
How could someone be so depressed and sad
When children play just outside?
I found my grandmother laying in the chair
Still and motionless
Not knowing I was there
I bent down
And held her hand
It was cold and veiny, filled with spots from the liver
She awoke to my warm touch and smile
Her grey hair had not been washed in days
Her whiskers on her cheek unclipped
Her leg swollen from where the cancer was carved away
Her depression making her hunch-back and stiff
Her wrinkles competing with her fragile structure
Her blue eyes still as powerful as my own
Her tears salty to the glance
Her heart still beating from the love
I delivered my words
As much as I could
Of hope and strength
Awards and certificates line the walls
Old portraits and photographs too
My artwork from when I was little
And articles about my grandfather’s favorite Democrats
The door knobs still have crystal on them
The door frames still arched
The couch still covered in plastic
The candy dish still on the round coffee table
My grandparents wearing their old clothes
From so many years ago
I don’t even know what is hip
In or out
The bed was unmade
Easier access perhaps
The dishes were clean
There was an overabundance of food from Meals-On-Wheels
She can no longer walk
Or go to the toilet alone
No more cookies for me
No more smiles on her face
She can no longer breathe sunny air
Afraid to go to doctors
Taking numerous pills a day, an hour
She sits and cries
All she can say
Is that God is punishing her
And never forget about her Five sisters and Mother
Murdered by the Nazis
As she escaped
And ran away
From Lithuania
As the sun came down today
They will not let me take the subway home
We order a car service
Arriving on time
They pack me full of different goodies
Fruit and Milk mainly
They have so much they cannot finish
Instead of rotting, they send it with me
Sometimes, as I see those pears rot in their kitchen
I make direct associations, and see them
Oma still lives
But,
What do I do now?
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.05.03:00:00 @ 83PTW NYC
00.02.05.22:56:05 @ 296E NYC
Snowfall
It’s 1am
And I’m wandering these old streets
of lower Manhattan
The gentle snow is cascading down
Each flake is reflected
in the yellow light of the lamppost
I walk on the snow covered
cobble stone roads
I see the whiteness forever
settling on the red brick buildings
bordering these street labyrinths
It’s cold in the air
I can see my breath
But all around
I feel warm
The snow falls on my hair
Covers my jacket
And lays upon my soft lips
Everywhere I look
Snow falls in patterns of joy
In a hurry to fall and land
They land on window sills
And on parked cars
Even on dogs walking by
They land on my feet
And on my ears
Even on the space between my upper lip and nose
I see all this beautiful snow
It blankets the city down
And I smile
How could I not think of you
When I see such beauty in this world?
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.04.04:47:43@296NYC
If You Let Me In
Your lips
Penetrated my armor suit
What am I to do?
If you let me in
If you let me in
I remain silent
Wishing
Not knowing
My guard falls down
I’ve been strong for years
Solid with concrete walls
Huge doors and locks
Your lips
Penetrated my armor suit
What am I to do?
If you let me in
If you let me in
I circle your navel with my tongue
Wondering
Not feeling
My eyes look up at the darkness
It’s all I can do
Until you let the warmth come out
And I can hold you tightly
Your lips
Penetrated my armor suit
What am I to do?
If you let me in
If you let me in
I engulf your body and mind at times
Drowning
Not experiencing
My heart beats
I know I’ve been evil
But my truth keeps me alive
And your beauty makes me want to be alive
Your lips
Penetrated my armor suit
What am I to do?
If you let me in
If you let me in
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.03.03:43:50@296NYC