M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Making Love (Version #2)

It was perfect

Just after our wine

From the wicker picnic basket

On our fresh down blanket

Upon the grass

Under a great huge oak tree

 

Lying under the stars

In the warm summer night

A slight summer breeze blowing

My fingers running through your hair

 

I was penetrating you with passion

In a steady rhythm over and over

Kissing your lips with desire

And staring into your sparkling eyes

 

The night sky was overhead

Filled with bright stars and constellations

The rustle of the oak leaves could be heard

As we clenched each other’s hands

 

Still, I would grind away

Rub our hips together

As I nibble on your stiff nipples

And trace the contour of your beauty with my tongue

 

Under that lasting nighttime sky

We celebrate together

Our unity and share our affection

Caressing your soft skin and kissing your ears

 

Over and over again

I push inwards and thrust

Bare in the warm summer air

Your breasts pressed firmly against my chest

 

 

It was just perfect

But you were not there

Not your mind nor your body

Not even a trace of your scent

 

And I cried alone

Under the nighttime sky

Under the great oak tree

Wishing you were there

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.14.06:58:02 @ 296 NYC

00.04.14.12:08:56 @ 1515 NYC

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Making Love

It was perfect

Just after our wine

From the wicker picnic basket

On our fresh down blanket

Upon the grass

Under a great huge oak tree

 

Lying under the stars

In the warm summer night

A slight summer breeze blowing

My fingers running through your hair

 

I was penetrating you with passion

In a steady rhythm over and over

Kissing your lips with desire

And staring into your sparkling eyes

 

The night sky was overhead

Filled with bright stars and constellations

The rustle of the oak leaves could be heard

As we clenched each other’s hands

 

Still, I would grind away

Rub our hips together

As I nibble on your stiff nipples

And trace the contour of your beauty with my tongue

 

Under that lasting nighttime sky

We celebrate together

Our unity and share our affection

Caressing your soft skin and kissing your ears

 

Over and over again

I push inwards and thrust

Bare in the warm summer air

Your breasts pressed firmly against my chest

 

 

It was just perfect

But you were not there

Not your mind nor your body

Not even a trace of your scent

 

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.04.14.06:58:02 @ 296 NYC

00.04.14.12:08:56 @ 1515 NYC

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Misery

I hope I get sick again

To get me out of my misery

 

It’s a bad plea

But it will be a success for both of us

 

I’ll wake up in the new

Different features

Different water fountains

 

You’ll forget about me

As I remain silent for days and weeks

Even months

 

You’ll move on

Go forward

Forget about the past

 

I’ll be ill

But I won’t be in pain

Never the pain that I experience

When alive with the ache

 

I hope I get sick again

So, I can count the tiles

And watch the Jags roll in

And eat hospital food

 

I hope I get sick again

To be punished for sins of not knowing

To live it up once again

And dream the wildest dreams

 

I hope I get sick again

It brings the distant closer

Near death

And it will make me soft

 

Hiding and never coming out

You can see me

But you’ll never see through me

And you’ll never see me

 

But in my mind

I’ll have a lasting memory

Of what could have been

If I wasn’t in misery

 

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.29.03:45:00@14ST7THAVENYC

00.01.29.13:11:00@296NYC

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

mother

and as I lay there bleeding,

I yelled repeatedly “Mama, Mama”

in languages unknown to me.

 

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.7.21.14:01:09 @1515

New York City

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Medium

Not quite large

But bigger than small

Not happy

Nor sad

Just about on the line

Or even

On the line

 

She thought he knew

He only saw a thin line

He balanced

And waited to cross

 

He thought she knew

She was medium

Sized perfect

Waiting for something

 

Medium

Like between a devil and a dove

Mint chocolate chip ice cream

Dog walking bird chirping

Silent waves

 

Medium

Waiting of the time spent

Recalled

Like an opera singer

In the musical devotion

Have a bottle of wine

 

Medium

Put Bob Marley on

And relax in a bath

Candles burn

Chill

Be medium

But be beyond

 

Medium

California dressing

Undress

Bermuda shorts

Miami screams

 

Medium

Reaching upwards

Bending and curving

Hear the calling

Medium

Howling at the wind

Or just the full moon

Picture snapped

Etched in my head

 

Medium

Don’t fear

Just go medium

Medium shade

Medium drive

Medium pulse

Medium rocket

Medium honey

Medium sheet

Medium paint brush

Medium color

Medium whiteness

Medium

 

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.06.10.14:29:57@1515nyc

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Midnight

Midnight we hear their laughter

Noon we remember their cries

And taste their foreign tears

 

Late afternoon I smelt her in the air

Waves coming over me, pulsating perfume

And taste my youth of trapped dreams

 

Late June the end is near

Beginning July, they all forget and I crawl

August I’m in heat

 

September rain comes the fall

Man slipping off a roof’s edge

As the English sip their tea

 

October I recall

November I don’t thank you for killing my natives

December we get drunk and wonder

Go on to the next promising year

And depression sets on those days

Of holiday wonder we die

 

Midnight we hear their laughter

Noon we remember their cries

And taste their foreign tears

 

Beginning years of January, we stand the bitter cold

February we get lost in love of hallmark and the red zone

Which is not my erogenous zone

 

March we come out and pop and die under sunshine

April glitz and maple gritz

May suck me up

And become an interviewee

Shout

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.05.21.16:37:44 @ 1515 nyc

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Mixed Media Killer

Whites killing blacks

Blacks killing whites

Liposuction fat suckas

Believing in god to rescue

Ain’t no Popeye

   gonna save our batch

Think I’ll light a match

 

Littleton snow falling

Wet rain flower graves

Students balling

 

Publicity suicide stunt

Making bucks for NBC, CBS, ABC and CNN

Just 2 Shot men

 

Bomb the black kid

Blaming Manson

Wish I hid

 

Violence in Kosovo

Violence in Colorado

I’d much rather get lost

   In the violence in my own head

 

Trench coat Mafia

Remembrance of Matthew Sheppard I knew

Psychology Today

Preventing your bloody hue

 

Interviewing the grieving

For America’s rating

The Boss was born here one evening

John’s little pink houses debating

 

Sawed-off shot guns

Bleeding bones

Crying tears

Swat teams

Children killing children

Imagine my man

   in the mirror

 

Rebel revolutions

Civil revolutions

Student revolutions

Gothic revolutions

Building wars

Destroying guns

No one’s safe

 

Laughing killers

Ooooooo...Black clothing

Come to New York City

I’ll show you your black

& hate

& god on riverside

 

You know?

 

 

 

 

Silent images = $

 

 

Silence = death

 

 

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.04.23.4:46:17@Earth

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Memory Song

We are the pea-NUTS

The mighty mighty pea-NUTS

 

Wherever we go-OHhh

People want to know-OHhh

 

Whooooo we are-R

Soooooo we tell them

 

We are the pea-NUTS

The mighty mighty pea-NUTS

 

Wherever we go-OHhh

People want to know-OHhh

 

Whooooo we are-R

Soooooo we tell them

 

We are the pea-NUTS

The mighty mighty pea-NUTS

 

Wherever we go-OHhh

People want to know-OHhh

 

Whooooo we are-R

Soooooo we tell them

 

 

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.02.05.03:16:16 @ 296 NYC

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

My Cat

I was driving my cat

From New York to New Jersey

Just across the border

 

He usually meows and cries

A lot

On these mysterious trips

 

But this time he was silent

Quiet

Did not say anything

 

It was a short trip

Only lasting four minutes

Or so

 

Listening to “Running to Stand Still”

And “With or Without You”

While sticking my finger

Into my cat’s ‘kennel cab’

 

Still, my cat would not meow

Nor would he rub his face

Or body against my fingers

 

He was eerily silent

And I knew something was odd

Wrong

 

The music playing

No meowing

No touching

I knew my cat was dead

 

I felt happy and sad

He wanted to be with me

When he died

 

He tried so hard

His tired old body

Waiting to be with me

One last time

 

I was prepared

To end my trip in New Jersey

And take my cat

Out of the car

 

And cradle his soft

Not yet stiff

Body

In my arms

 

Looking up towards the sky

Embracing on of the rare beings

I will have ever loved.

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.12.20.22:40:00@505NJ

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Moon Abuse

I send you my apology

My deepest one

I’m sorry, moon

I have abused you

 

I was unaware

Of your actual beauty

The passion that you possess

The sensuality you share

 

I’m sorry that I abused you,

Moon

There is nothing too compare

You are a mighty peace

For all to enjoy and hold

Not just for me

To abuse

 

Please accept my deepest sorrow

For I was blind to your power

Romanticism and truth

 

I’m sorry moon,

But I have abused you...

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.11.08.20:52:00@Tampa -> NYC Flt#1874

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Moonlight Temptation

I would watch the moonlight

Reflect on your face

As you ease your shadows

Upon my chest

 

My temptation to go inside

Wrap around you with hugging arms

Kills me every day

Eats me up inside

 

I would kiss you

Under summer skies

The blue midnight that melts

In the beauty of your hands

 

I miss your soul

That I never had

Show me heaven

I’ll show you another universe

 

Capture colors with me

And I’ll enter your brown eyes

I’ll come out from beneath

And share my thoughts

 

I’ll kiss your tears

Of sadness and joy every day

My honor will disappear

As I kneel for sculpted bronze

 

I whisper sweetness

Into your ear

As my fingertips let you escape

From the ordinary day

 

I will howl at many moons

To divide the winds and seas

For your insight to absorb

And breath to take in

 

Speak to the ocean and land with me

Let me cradle you in my arms

As we grasp the sensation

And conquer our feelings

 

Cuddle outside with me

And see the sunset

And watch a new dawn rise

While intertwining with each other

I’ll let you inside

Discover the changes among

Curves, eyes, touch, and desire

 

My heart is forever enslaved

But when set free

The glow you will see

Ignited by your moonlight

By your smile

By your mind

By your vibration

I will live

 

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.16.22:30:50@NYCNJ

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

My Crucifixion

For you

My tears are drops of rain

My affection is a wounded heart

 

Your beauty is a cobra’s venom

Poisoning my body to unearthly heaven

 

Making me spin out of control

In a tornado of optional corrupted hard thickness

 

Deep down inside

In the bush

Between the gods, the land, and the sky

I hide

 

I wait for people like you

To gather around my waist

And hold me tight

Like the grip of last night’s wind

 

For you

I slice at my skin and save your sins

I collect seeds to plant

To water and nurse

The growth of us

 

Seeing your smile

Hearing your laugh

I have to make noise

Yell and scream

Show my orgasm

As your beauty shades my existence

 

Again Again

I make myself known

To you and the world

 

I give up everything

For you

I crucify myself

To be with you

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.07.06.00:00:00@NYC10036

98.07.07.00:00:00@NYC10036

98.07.08.00:00:00@NYC10036

98.07.09.00:00:00@NYC10036

98.07.10.00:00:00@NYC10036

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M, 1996 - 00 David Harth M, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Myself: Destination

I sat at the front of the 49-passenger-bus

We were going down the highway

Passing all the lights and the travelers

It was dark out, a midnight blue - casted shadows around

The rain on the windshield bounced on and off

 

I looked down the aisle

And what did I see

I saw myself

About half-way back down the aisle of grey seats

There I sat staring to the front at myself

And I stared at myself, looking, gazed like a ghostly soul

 

In the center of the aisle

There was a box

A cardboard box with printed black ink

It stunk of fish and meat and octo-pussy

It leaked down the thin aisle to my black covered feet

 

I got freaked out

Could not understand

How could there be two of me

Right then and there

How could this be

 

Terrified

I leaped out of my red-striped, semi-comfortable, grey seat

And jumped through the front windshield of the autobus

Crashing through, landing hard on the wet cold ground

Shards of sharp glass punctured my soft pale skin

And blood splattered my structured self and the other innocent passengers

The driver swerved

But it was too late

Before I hit the ground

The bus slammed at my fleshy blurred form

Crushing my hair and eyes into my thoughts

My crucified red liquid flowing

Across bright headlights and creamy-white dashes on the pavement

 

But now there is one of me

And he

Smells like meat

And is still going to his destination

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.01.22.00:00:00@07430/10036

98.01.24.00:00:00@07430/10036

98.01.25.00:00:00@07430/10036

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