Suffering
All around you is suffering.
People in Africa are dying of AIDS
They are dying of starvation.
Of simple procedures. Simple medications. Simply water.
They are suffering. They are dying in the streets.
And I ask,
I ask you,
What have you done?
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.02.21.24:49:31@296NYC
You Keep Me
Whether it be the Brooklyn bound F train
Or the Bronx bound A Train
I cannot tell you how many times
I often think of bending my head
Over the platform edge
Hover it over the tracks
As the oncoming train comes
So, it hits my head
My death comes immediately
But its only you
Thoughts of you
That keeps me alive
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.02.19.19:53:40@296NYC
Elevator
Move it
Rub your lips
Like the way you do
On the upward elevator
Dance
Gyrate
Wish you were my Valentine
Viewing your gallery
Obsession in my elevator
Rub your lips
With your treat
My treat
Wish it was
Elevator Up?
Going up
I am up
Erect in this building
Going far
Until I open up
Fifth floor
Walk-Up
Get Out
She’s wet
Rub your lips
Dance
Hear my compact
Just reach out
Touch me
You know that
1970’s
Rub your lips
Just once more
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.02.07.11:42:33@205HudsonNYC
Good Morning, Blue
Time to rise
Time to wake
Fall out of your sheets
Eat some jelly and toast
Start thinking of your morning excuse
Plan on the time you’ll call me
Your day after call on the phone
Time to rinse
Time to make
Crawl out from under the truth
Let it be slippery – slide through your fingers
Mud wet wed
Turn the dim lights on
And I wonder these days,
Why don’t you recognize me anymore?
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.01.27.15:24:00@205HudsonNYC
The Last Glass of Chocolate Milk (Version #2)
Stadium lights infiltrate my eyes from your tenth floor home
The heat raises my body temperature, I want to take off my clothing.
Plastic flowers line the tables and window sills.
Live plants hang from hooks in the ceiling.
I remember the curved green couch on the Park Terrace.
Black squirrels eating peanuts from my palm, and that of your husband.
Chocolate candy coated, tuna fish and the unforgettable scent;
Of which I cannot explain to you now.
Your bad breath, a slight whisker from your cheek.
The bluest eyes, like mine; that speak love.
And I still try to find ‘a nice girl.’
I’ll let you know when I have, or when I did.
Your sagging breasts and bulging blind eye.
The sweetest woman who knew my brain waves.
A smile I’ll never forget when you counted,
One Dollar, Two Dollars.
The red knitted ribbon that hangs on my entrance.
Your senior MTA card sits in a drawer.
You lie in rest in peace beneath my earth.
In a pine wood box you dissolve.
But I must be honest,
I don’t think it was in 10S.
But only on the Terrace,
When I got my last glass
of chocolate milk.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.01.25.01:09:11@205HudsonNYC
No One
My love is gigantic.
Larger than a long gone prehistoric reptile.
Greater than a sailing blue whale.
My love is cosmic.
Stretches far past these terrestrial galaxies.
Beyond the suns and the moons.
My love is wind.
Soaring and swirling with nineteenth century clouds.
To carry you throughout your life.
My love is fiery.
It is an ignition.
Fuel to light cities across the planet.
My love is heroic.
A shield to protect the aged and the ill.
The weak and the poor.
My love is honorable.
The heart I possess has been bludgeoned.
Coat of arms is yours.
My love is an empire.
Searching wide and far.
To give all to its rightful Queen.
My love is passionate.
Dedicated to the pleasure of my lover.
External and internal; body and mind.
My love is everything.
It is what makes me continue.
Makes my heart pulsate.
But I have no one to give my love to.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.12.19.01:06:05@296NYC
Going Down (Version #2)
It is where I would like to be most.
You are my leopard; you are my host.
Tonight, my tongue is a serpent.
My touch upon your lips will be potent.
Let me gaze upon your passage way.
Welcome to the kingdom of foreplay.
As I taste your inner beauty.
Inside I explore deeply.
Our tryst has just begun,
It’s where I nuzzle upon your sacred garden.
I will lick voraciously forever.
I’ll move in even closer.
With my tongue I orchestrate a symphony.
I first start out so very gently.
Then with a strong powerful thrust.
I taste, I must.
You are my Aphrodite in essence.
I swallow your innocence.
Summer moon in the mist.
Gyrating in and out, just kissed.
Humming birds have nothing on me.
My speed is fiery.
I gather your moist lips with my tongue.
Your orgasmic chorus has been sung.
The clock strikes midnight.
A torrid affair we unite.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.12.10.23:21:56@296NYC
Visible
You are nothing,
and you are everything.
You present yourself,
while being speechless.
You live while being dead,
and you are motionless to one’s eye.
I cannot see you,
but I can witness you.
I cannot touch you,
but I can feel you.
I cannot hear you,
but I can listen to your sounds.
People skip you.
They ignore you.
They don’t know that you exist.
People laugh at you.
They don’t understand you.
They can’t comprehend your concept.
People walk inside of you.
They walk around you.
They walk right by you.
Invisible before the viewer,
Visible after they have left.
Daring vision
Concealed creation.
Magnificently invisible,
Defying the visible.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.11.28.24:11:27@296NYC
Head First
I knew nothing then of what I knew today
She had bright red hair
Above her head and below.
Freckles covered her body
In between her pasty white skin poked out,
Said hello.
I was innocent then.
Not even a lover.
We just swallowed each other’s kisses.
An hour before she rode me dry in my car.
Fogged autumn windows
Tail lights were out.
In the wood paneled basement, we sat
Lying on the leather couch she began
Slowly inching downwards
Unbuckled, unbuttoned, pulled
She encompassed me with her lips
Whole in its entirety
The feeling reminded me
All the previous times of self-pleasure
Growing up so unexperienced
Sliding, gliding with her tongue
Such intensity
I could not believe what I saw before me.
Her red hair is all I see
What I feel is wet
Explosive in my teen sensations
Her parents walked upstairs
Back and forth, back and forth
On the linoleum kitchen floor
I feared they would come down
To discover their innocent daughter
Mouth wrapped around me
Before they took steps downward
I drowned her throat
With my first vocal cavity emergence.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.11.14.23:37:42@296NYC
Opa (Version #4)
Bruised
Leftover
Crumbled
Tinted
Wrinkled
Pace set to extra slow
Aging beyond
Fill him with formaldehyde
He lost his tongue,
He lost his mind.
He lost his heart,
He lost his wife.
Your Quaker Oats
Your bayonet
Your bushy eyebrows
Your lost causes
Burnt
Shot
Witnessed
Tailored
Flaking
Beats set ten more
Falling to the street
Find him one borough north
He lost his son,
He lost his remote.
He lost his time,
He lost himself.
Your giving grace
Your slicing of challah bread
Your sketching of corners
Your newborn smile
Not yet dead
Rolled over
Pissed on
Amnesia
Loved
Time standing still
Tick Tock
When will you join her?
He lost his hope,
He lost his mother.
He lost his dignity,
He lost his life.
Your thumb twiddling
Your eggs of February
Your constant prayer
Your daily humor
Almost gone,
Just not yet –
You are my Opa
I feel like we’ve just met.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.11.07.23:36:40@296NYC
Forever (First Version)
With her digging tools she lifted out my heart
On the table she placed it still beating
It was time for me to go, it was time to depart
Now I leave my loved one with a greeting
Know that I have loved you so wholly
I have reached deep within, my severed lines now dead
Even as I now sink in the swallowing dirt slowly
My love for you has never been shed
As my vitality clock ends and tells the tale
Death will never take my love for you
My body lays so empty and frail
Let it be heard, my love for you is true
Tediously I dissolve and oblivion welcomes me
“I love you forever” is my last plea
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.10.04.11:21:23@205Hudson
Without Warning
Exquisite and intricate,
like an angel she fell from the sky;
She encompassed me with her loyal affection until I die.
Divine and graceful,
like Venus wading inward from the sea;
She swallowed my heart entirely.
Seductive and brilliant,
like a Siren with admirable intention;
She lured me deep into the flames of an untimely passion.
Inspiring and philanthropic,
like an exemplar to the entire people;
She guided me with warmth and a gospel.
Falling into place,
unexpectedly before my eyes of blue;
She smiled with whispers of her virtue.
Beauty surrounding me,
a Goddess like you I never witnessed;
From this day forth, I am your artist.
So, I surrender to you,
and without warning,
I have fallen in love,
in love with you.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.09.26.01:49:51@296NYC
Spoken Silence
May my open door accept death;
May my welcoming arms embrace you.
Come inside
From the cold wet snow.
Let me greet you
Where the staff of the rich bound the poor
When floods meet the sanctuaries of the divine.
May my soul not escape the serpent of death;
May my feet be always planted on soil of the mother.
Take everything
From the dignity of myself, the bloody boar.
Let me taste your decrepit sickle
Stretch the carefully honed blade
Across thy impeccable neck.
May you sharpen your hunt;
May you disengage the roots of my teeth.
Disembowel me
Carve loose the very insides which define me.
Let me be drained by your fury
Sever off thy tasting instrument
Fill my open passages with leeches.
May you lead the wrath upon me;
May you abduct my spirit forever.
Prevail life
Seize my wisdom.
Let me decompose to pure cypher
Lay in thy body excrements
Smolder in the acids of my entity.
May I become dead without one last cry.
May I profess the love I have lost,
For I am to die.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.09.04.03:46:07@296NYC
Sunday (Version #2)
I woke up Saturday morning.
And the Sunday Early Morning shows were on the
Television.
And it was Sunday and not Saturday.
Saturday was gone, and Saturday became Sunday.
I did not understand.
Had I slept through Saturday?
Had Saturday just disappeared?
Had I confused my days,
Confused my calendar?
Today is now Sunday
And Saturday is gone.
Saturday became Sunday
And Sunday I’ve become lost.
I woke up today,
Today was Sunday,
And not the day I thought,
Saturday.
The date was Sunday’s date.
The correct date of the month.
But what happened to Saturday?
Did we just skip it?
Am I in an alternative universe?
Where did it go?
Where did Saturday go?
Just last night it was Friday evening.
I woke up this morning.
I knew it was Saturday.
But I discovered,
That Saturday was Sunday.
And Saturday was gone.
Because today is Sunday.
And Sunday is now.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.08.28.12:12:46@296NYC
Going Down
It is where I would like to be most.
Right between your legs,
You are my leopard; you are my host.
Let me gaze upon your passage way.
Right between your legs,
Welcome to the kingdom of foreplay.
Our tryst has just begun,
Right between your legs,
It’s where I nuzzle upon your sacred garden.
As I taste your inner beauty.
Right between your legs,
Inside I explore deeply.
Tonight, my tongue is a serpent.
Right between your legs,
My touch upon your lips will be potent.
With my tongue I orchestrate a symphony.
Right between your legs,
I first start out so very gently.
Then with a strong powerful thrust.
Right between your legs,
I taste, I must.
I will lick voraciously forever.
Right between your legs,
I’ll move in even closer.
You are my Aphrodite in essence.
Right between your legs,
I swallow your innocence.
Summer moon in the mist.
Right between your legs,
Gyrating in and out, just kissed.
Humming birds have nothing on me.
Right between your legs,
My speed is fiery.
I gather your moist lips with my tongue.
Right between your legs,
Your orgasmic chorus has been sung.
The clock strikes midnight.
Right between your legs,
A torrid affair we unite.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.07.29.03:33:19@296NYC
Boys Are Toys
Boys are toys,
And toys are boys.
The boy is a toy
And the toy is a boy.
Toy the boy
And be the boy.
Boy the toy
And buy the boy.
Toy to buy
And be the boy.
Toys are Boys
And Boys have toes.
Toy with the Boy,
And buy the toy.
Become the boy
And toy with the boy.
Boy Toys
And toy boy.
Boy my Toy
And Toy my Boy.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.07.27.01:57:23@296NYC
Opa (Version #3)
Opa,
You die before me,
Quickly your aged body crumbles,
You become a frail ghost.
Opa,
With scars on chest and tongue,
On leg and heart.
Your wounds go unnoticed.
Opa,
Still a smile to the last day.
My eulogy is being prepared.
Your eyes meet mine nightly.
Opa,
Your hands touch my hands,
My childhood world swiftly races through my mind.
Airplane Park, Train Park, New York City, Concord.
Opa,
You taught me light and shadow.
I danced in your army uniform.
We built Quaker Oats vehicles.
Opa,
A bayonet resides beneath your bed.
Your love awaits you in your heaven.
You are a gift to this world.
Opa,
So silently full of love.
A whispering howl of giving.
You are a knight.
Opa,
Without you the world will be smaller.
My plains of passion will be completed.
As compassion is greater.
Opa,
You taught me to give,
You taught me to love.
I will never stop giving and loving.
Opa,
Thank you for your love.
You will remain alive forever.
For your heart will always remain beating in mine.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.07.12.03:36:57@296NYC
Thirty Minutes
In thirty minutes,
I can claim a victory.
In thirty minutes,
I can devour my love.
In thirty minutes,
I can be saved.
In thirty minutes,
She’ll pull the trigger.
In thirty minutes,
An end is near.
In thirty minutes,
It’s more than easy.
In thirty minutes.
© 2005 David Greg Harth
05.07.10.23:25:00@296NYC