Instruct The User
a. instruct the user how to properly use the usage
b. use the used instructions while using
c. instruct the using to use the usage
d. use the usage while applying pressure
e. instruct the proper amount of applied pressure while being used by the user
f. instruct the specifications of each individual user to their applied usage
g. use the used while being used only if its applied properly
h. instruct each use to be used in a manner other than pure usage
i. instruct the user how to properly manage each use when used
j. use the users instructions to properly learn the specific usages
k. instruct each user to use the usage within the limits of being used
l. use the users use
m. use the use of the users used
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.29.01:45:00@14ST7THAVENYC
00.01.29.13:19:00@296NYC
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
Sexually Explicit Uncomfortable-ality
I thrust my cock deep inside of her pussy.
She sucked my cock.
Deep throat.
I fucked her hard.
I ate her out.
I finger-fucked her.
I penetrated her young innocence
I cummed on her face.
She fucked me hard.
She licked my cock.
I tit-fucked her.
I sucked her.
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.28.02:00:00 @ New York City
Bagpiper
Blow me into the heaven I belong
Make me feel the pain that I have caused
Demonstrate the suffering I only dreamed of
Become the death beat in my pulse
Remind me of my father’s love
Listen to my buffalo thoughts roam
Tear open my skin and reveal my truths
Prevent me from eating the disease
Make me shiver in the coldness of tonight
Deliver your message with more conditions and rules
Show me the reflection of the past and image of the future
Become the agony from which I cry from
Get lost with my soul and make me beg for life
Reach for the sockets that hold my art sight
Make me wash my clothes continuously and never remain with the blood
Become my fallen teeth nightmare and crack me
Settle the upwards issue
Blow to my brains that will be televised
Let the hollow hole bring light to the earth from which a flower does not grow
Restore my history with your learned beauty
Stare at my darkness and hidden causes
Make me think about swallowing and never do
Feed me to the pit and make me never decompose
Cut loose the ties which bound me to my beliefs
Make a run for the silent hills
Make me shackled and naked and false
Make me love until I ache in fetal pain
And forget about me as I become my gorgeous depersonalized self
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.12.23:16:36 @ 296 NYC
00.01.19.01:07:16 @ 296 NYC
00.01.27.04:19:03 @ 296 NYC
I’m Getting Married
Who here wants to meet me in
Las Vegas
For a weekend
For the sole purpose
To get married in a drive-thru wedding chapel
In the name of art
Then burn the papers
And be ourselves again
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.25.15:35:38 @ 1515nyc
Love (Version #05.2)
I am no rockstar
And I am not a musician
There are no instruments that I can play
But I will take my poetry
And whisper in your ear gently
I am no actor
And I am not famous to the crowds
There are no films with my personality
But I will cradle you in our own private Hollywood
And we will ignite our flames as much as we should
I am no athlete
And I am not a child’s hero
There are no advertisements endorsed with my image
But I will create my own art for you
And wish to see you in our glowing hue
I am no politician
And I am not head of state
There are no monuments in my name
But I will follow our path as it turns
And witness the desire as it burns
I am no model
And I am not built like a strong-man
There are no magazines that have my physique
But I will work on the strengths I bare
And show you how much I care
I am no doctor
And I am not an expert in saving
There are no medical miracles performed by me
But I will be at your side
And give you all the love I can provide
I am no science engineer
And I am not a winner of genius awards
There are no students under my arm
But I will construct a bridge across sea and land
And always be willing and wanting to hold your hand
I am me
And that’s all I’ll ever be
There are only truths and warmths that
Hide behind my blue eyes
And that’s the best Me I can offer
For my love
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.24.10:08:00@I95Exit109B
00.01.24.23:12:00@296NYC
Love (Version #05)
I am no rockstar
And I am not a musician
There are no instruments that I can play
I am no actor
And I am not famous to the crowds
There are no films with my personality
I am no athlete
And I am not a child’s hero
There are no advertisements endorsed with my image
I am no politician
And I am not head of state
There are no monuments in my name
I am no model
And I am not built like a strong-man
There are no magazines that have my physique
I am no doctor
And I am not an expert in saving
There are no medical miracles performed by me
I am no science engineer
And I am not a winner of genius awards
There are no students under my arm
I am me
And that’s all I’ll ever be
There are only truths and warmths that
Hide behind my blue eyes
And that’s the best Me I can offer
For my love
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.24.10:08:00@I95Exit109B
Black Cars
I ain’t nothin’
I’m scrap
I’m trash
My sign is nothing
My image is nothing
My style is stolen
My behavior is imitated
My look is manufactured
I ain’t nothin’
I’m low
I’m invisible
They don’t notice me
They don’t consider me
They don’t allow me
They don’t acknowledge me
They don’t follow me
They don’t fondle me
I ain’t nothin’
I’m a no body
I’m worthless
I’m a piece of dung
I’m not heard
I’m not sought
I’m not reported
I’m not stalked
I’m not felt
I ain’t nothin’
I don’t have a voice
I don’t have a friend
I don’t have a telephone
I don’t have a white glove
I don’t have a back door
I ain’t nothin’
Because I don’t travel in black cars
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.21.24:59:00@296NYC
Love (Version #03)
Don’t know
what it is
or where it is
So, I’ll just sit here
and wait for it.
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.20.17:12:17@1515 NYC
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
Never Been
I don’t want to lose my faith
I just picked up my electronics
I don’t want to lose my laundry
Or follow the suit or be in trouble
I don’t want to be left in the sea
And have salt solidify around my tears
I don’t want to lose my brother
I just picked up today’s news
I don’t want to eat the pig
Or listen to the radio or be in sight
I don’t want to be molded in plastic
And have photographers at my funeral
I don’t want to hear the bagpipes
Or play with puzzles made of gold
I don’t want to hear your voice
Or play games with your mind
I don’t want to hear you on the telephone
Or swallow your spit at night
I don’t want to hear your children’s story
Or be your partner in crime
I don’t want to burn the ants or watch them crawl
I don’t want to eat your lunch or borrow your money
I don’t want to be a rich man’s lover
Or grow old in disbelief
I don’t want an eagle feather
Or be documented and remembered
I don’t want rope around my neck at a thin age
Or for you to be sorry in your lonesome
I have warm hands for the holding
I have a heart filled with steel
I have a thick head filled with dreams
That never come out in positive white
I have been influenced
I have been in a coma
I have been back and around
But I’ve never been with you
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.11.04:22:25 @ 296 New York City
9 O’clock
Underneath the table
Her warm hands were rubbing my thighs
The bar was stale with old-age smoke
The red-light candle was burning
In front of my face, ill
There was a beat on the system
Underground a train would rumble by
Ladies flirting at the table top
Minds wondering and smiles exchanged
All I could focus on
All I could dream about
And get lost in
Your eyes
Put the thick dust away
The sounds, the noises, the bull
I see you through the curtain of iron
The blinds of war
It’s you I’ve been searching for
I’ve been waiting for
For the look in your eyes
And warmth of your touch
Underneath the table
The air is no longer stale
I’m holding your hand
Can you feel the warmth?
The kindness?
The realism?
Nothing bad today
Nothing ill
Nothing wrong
Just our eyes locking
Just ourselves getting lost
In the minds and warmth of each other
Forget about the tonic-stained wooden floor
The cast-iron ceiling and dimly lit yellow lights
Forget about the juke box playing songs of the like
The coasters holding up the drunks and beauties
Forget about the dirty bathroom and overflowed toilet
The beer labels stuck on walls and youngsters believing
Forget about the fried potatoes and beefcake bouncer
The pushed breasted bar tender and slick stud of yonder
Right now, the moment is for us
All of us
Every part of our hearts
As we share and intertwine our flame
At 9 O’clock
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.09.20:39:09 @ 296 New York City
00.01.11.02:08:38 @ 296 New York City
Oma and Opa (Version #2)
I never thought
I would have a hunched-back grandmother
She shuffles her feet
Moving slowly from worn-out carpeted room to the next
Still on the same green
My grandfather struggles
Taking care of two
Organizing the week’s pills and drugs
Dropping hot coffee from strokes
Not remembering
I get offered fake cream cheese
Its Jalapeno-flavored by mistake
I visit my grandparents
Once or twice a month
I should more
As I watch them die before my eyes
Slowly
Age into a cold fragile bony lifeless full of love
The smell of bad breath I can’t get away from
Because I admit to a certain warmth I have for them
They visited me every day
And I can’t commit to each weekend or each month
I can’t support and call her an ass and we don’t understand
She saw her sisters shot
He never saw his brother in Africa
Years of photographs bring tears and stains
The stained plastic Tupperware
stained of chicken-matzoh-ball-soup, lox, and tuna fish
I get fed and care packages to take home to my bachelor pad
They die and I eat
I can’t even commit to a god they want
My grandfather can’t walk
But never sheds a tear for his strength is what makes him stone
His eyebrows grow like wild bushes and firestorm feeding brush
His eyes after surgery old and aging his cheek permanent with an accent
Thick of Germany
His pacemaker beats
She wets
I don’t know when their last bath was
Or if she looks like wonderfully aged Chinese woman I once saw at the New Museum
No more cookies, no recipe, some thin mints and M&Ms
Old, falling apart, deteriorating, bucket of bones cold and white
Their plastic has covered that couch for years
I wonder when they will take it off?
When one dies?
To be more comfortable
To feel the fabric of that couch?
Not the plastic sticking to your arms and legs and thighs?
Is the plastic an insecurity?
We protect the home from which we live, but we never fully live?
Is it their god that makes them cry?
Or makes them strong?
Does he pray for his mother each evening?
Or does he now pray for his wife?
As he once did for me?
Opera singers scream throughout the apartment
Some live, some radio
Some next door
And the green plants flourish
Or die
Never once did I see a bug
Or bullet, only a sword and an award
My grandparents are dying
Before my eyes
I want to hold them
I want to save them
I want to wrap them up in gauze and make them Egyptian art
I want to get the recipe
I want to show them my dead deer, my 9INE, my cats, my fat
My grandfather has held my hand
He has witnessed me in pain
In horror
In the nude
In the realness of the most fake state imaginable
I must have gotten my bright blue eyes
And blonde hair from her
Her blue eyes
As intense as mine
She taught me the language of her god
He taught me the gift of life
Now if I can only find someone to give that gift to
I’d make them happy, if they followed their god
© 2000 David Greg Harth
99.12.24.23:13:12 @ 296
00.01.03.20:33:33 @ 296
New Year’s Eve 99-2000
All I can feel is emptiness inside
Feel my shadow crawling
Up my empty stomach
Past Christmas lights of
Green and White
Reflect on the river Liffey
Green hovering lights
Illuminate O’Connell bridge
And I remember the taste
Of Guinness just one night before
The sounds of whistles and horns
And delighted drunk happiness
All invades the air
Waiting for slow fireworks in the night sky
Camera flashes pop and go off
As I smell the scent of wood burning
And salt sea
And alcohol last night
But now
Lost once again
Deeply wondering
On a cold-warm wet
December night
Wonder if I’ll wake up tomorrow
No fear of Millennium
Or Technology or Harm
Just want to know
If I will be me tomorrow
Or just my reflection and
A cold dark empty stare
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.12.31.21:57:00 @ Dublin Ireland Alongside the Liffey River
Green Shit
For 7 nights and 7 days
My shit was green
And green was my shit
I shit in my green
With green in my shit
An Irish green
In my ass shit
Shit in my green
Four leaf clover shit
Green shit
Shit
My lucky charm
And Leprechaun shit
I shit green
And green was my shit
For 7 nights and 7 days
I shit green shit
Shit was green
Like a fookin’ Irish green
Green was my shit
And shit was my green
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.12.31.00:41:00 @ Dublin Ireland
Christmas Evening
Alone I sit
Surrounded by America’s religion
I’m forgotten
I’m nothing today
Insignificant
I’m Hallmark’s enemy
And Santa Claus’ doormat
I’m the thief
And I drip hot candle wax on my wrists
I’ve never been invited
Or maybe only once
Although my mind escaped the coldness
I prepare my own army
And make a new bomb
My feet are cold
My tongue numb
And I begin to fall apart
In my shadows of nothingness
It’s Christmas Eve
Where have all the flowers gone?
The single Jews
The yellow stars
My father Hitler
And friends in Seattle
My grandmother beats me
Into a pulp over meeting
She doesn’t understand
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.12.24.22:59:20 @ 296 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
Perfection?
Don’t be afraid to ask me
Or bite me
Swallow
Wear pink or black or blue or green
Be secure and in tune
Know who you are and who I am not
Eat good be good eat bad be bad
Remember to be exciting
Don’t be afraid of the new
Of Handcuffs or feathers or strawberries
Of Diamonds or leather or porn
Of Exhibitionism or multiples or outdoors
Be real and able to cry
Hold, Care, Hug
Learn, Live, Love
Outreach and dig and fall
Don’t be afraid of meeting
Old, Older, New, Newer or past
Accept the future and illness
Battle like a fighting beast
Talk, Communicate, Experience
Feel, Think, Remember
Try, Attempt, Succeed, Fail
Write, Create, Smile, Develop
Don’t be afraid of difference
Birth marks, nipple hairs, bellies
Accents, nose curls, pubic hairs
Of cock rings, shave-less, loneliness
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.12.07.17:26:41@NYC
Under Over
Under Spell
Over Spell
Under Beauty
Over Beauty
Under Ground
Over Ground
Under Capture
Over Capture
Under Hunt
Over Hunt
Under Think
Over Think
Under Ache
Over Ache
Under Sadness
Over Sadness
Under Happiness
Over Happiness
Under Walk
Over Walk
Under Eat
Over Eat
Under Sleep
Over Sleep
Under Sweet
Over Sweet
Under Dream
Over Dream
Under Wish
Over Wish
Under Write
Over Write
Under Paint
Over Paint
Under Kiss
Over Kiss
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.12.04.20:34:05 @ 296 NYC