By, Getting
She packaged up flowers, receipts,
and old bubble gum wrappers.
Thought about joining the army;
maybe even the marines.
Finished sewing the quilt.
Made of patches of well-worn clothes
from Nebraska, Kentucky, and Virginia.
She shipped the boxes of delicate heirlooms
across rough violent oceans dreamed.
They fell over board to the
bottom of the sea.
Nine months later,
they arrive at noon.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.18.10:57:36@296NYC
I Have Time Left For Love
Hidden nights
Agendas torn
Serial masturbator
I broke Picasso’s glass
Volleyed for serve
Competed for her love
Tell me to stop
My jealousy is a rage
Crowd my heart with your love
Touch my hand to your breast
Light my path
Turn right
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.21:38:32@296NYC
Fat Men Sing, Too
Flying high
On the white rock
With a big thick black dick up your ass
$100 richer
I’m no pancake
But I’m not a virgin either!
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.21:35:16@296NYC
Man Is A Machine
Living among lost
Kernels of electricity
Pods of glory
Seeds of unrest
Man is a machine
Robotic movement
Plant generated
Mechanically engineered
Microscopically assembled
Man is a machine
Unemotionally invented
Corporate sponsored
Required back-ups
Failure imminent
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.21:19:02@296NYC
Your Garden
In heaven’s court
I am judged
Beneath Washington’s bridge
I am paralyzed
Behind institution’s doors
I am raped
Before my friends
I am defamed
In the wooden casket
I am burned
Silenced at Museum’s end
I am spoken
Lynched over Wyeth’s oak
I am memory
Clean by father
I am repaired
Picked for Middle East
I am fearless
Closing on Love
I am a garden
– I have no light – I have no water
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.17.14:06:00@10005thNYC
Everyone Has A Crooked Toe
I met a woman
She was crooked.
I met a violent criminal,
She was crooked.
I met a corporation,
She was crooked.
I met a politician,
She was crooked.
I met an artist,
She was straight.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.12.22:50:31@296NYC
Lost (Version #3)
Lost this
and lost that.
Losing this
and about to lose that.
Lost that long ago
and lost this too.
Lost her
and lost him.
Lost her
and about to lose him.
Losing chances
and losing time.
Losing the lost
and lost the hope.
Wondering if the greatest lost,
is the loss of existence.
The loss of mine.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.07.07:10:28@296NYC
It Is Always A Good Time To Dance
No matter how many wolves bite at your neck
No matter how many roam and circle around you
Waiting to pounce, to penetrate
To take a shot, a stab, poke at your fleshy meat
No matter how many clouds turn dark
No matter how many suns don’t shine
No matter how many stars fall from the sky
The hunt is on
So, gather your weapons
Your spears, your axe
Prepare for the battle
Prepare for the judgement
Prepare for the wounded knee
For my sisters,
My brothers,
My mother and my father,
It is always a good time to dance
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.04.12:22:34@296NYC
Blowing
Blowing up my head
Blowing a bullet through my brain
Killing myself
Now you all know your first person, or another person,
that has committed suicide.
I could not take it anymore
Rejections, accusations, difficulty, disbelief, love, art, money, sex.
Its time go, time to depart, to end.
So I’m going to blow
Blow up my head
And kill myself.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.06.01.12:10:32@296NYC
The Last Straw
I’ve reached it.
Perhaps some may have expected it.
Turns out,
I am the artist who created the ultimate art work.
The art work that all artists have spoken of.
The art work that all artists dreamed of.
But remember, it was Harth that pulled it off.
It was Harth that executed the final art work.
It was Harth that goes down in the art history books.
It was Harth that killed himself in the name of art.
It was Harth that committed suicide in a gallery,
and called it art.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.31.09:40:30@296NYC
The Darkest Hour
Even at the darkest hour
One must find strength
Before lifting the blade of cessation
Before lifting the graphite of renaissance
Before lifting the armor of crusade
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.31.01:55:45@296NYC
Lesbian Spider
Itsy bitsy
The spider crawled out of
The big flappy vagina lips.
Itsy bitsy
She crept up
And away
The lesbian spider
Came out of the big flappy vagina lips.
And now she sits
On top of your labia.
The itsy bitsy lesbian spider.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.30.15:18:28@599NYC
Terminées Amour
Orchestrated walk of ivory ghosts
Doves sing an epic unfolding story
Honoring the conqueror month began early
Laid our hearts down to rest
Recover the depths with felt blankets
Let nomads rub us down and heal us
Started something alone
Expected more waves of beauty
Art made mornings rise before nights departed
Recurring dreams dance our ballet
Flowers of memories wilt
Falling from our lasting empire
Barricade is constructed
Walls are fortified
Rivers run through inconsistency
Wind churns up today’s sea
Turning towards the light
Shade covers our year’s insight
Lonely evenings spent in solitude
World is ending beneath heavy black clouds
Deep drums beat toward lowered enclosed poisons
Pierced blues penetrate us both
Reasons elementary in life’s journey
Proposal on the heightened city
Point of passion now vanished upon the horizon
Warmth of another no longer near
Cease for other dedications
Drape the crests and raise the flag
Frozen eyes of sadness
Restless in their surroundings
Longing over our blindness
Not ourselves when one
Belonging on time spent to the fire’s ash
Forever forbidden to understandable truth
Bravery bound to the empty cavity
Declare the tale’s finale incomplete
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.29.24:07:14@296NYC
The Final Fall
I fell down
The space is narrowing down on me
I have nothing left to do
No more options, no ways out
I can’t get out of this place
The walls are closing in
I tumble, I fade
Morning rises
Body is dead
I’m free in the plains
My mother is in happiness,
She swallows me whole,
Puts her arms around me,
The roots never let me go.
This is my final resting place.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.27.24:58:00@296NYC
I’m Taking Off My Socks
I’m taking off my socks because I love fresh fruit.
It’s time to do some art, my toes are cooler now.
My back hurts and my nose is a bit stuffy,
but with the window open, I feel a slight breeze
between my little toes.
Because my socks are off.
Because I took off my socks.
And my socks are off.
Time for some fresh fruit...
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.26.22:41:00@296NYC
Silver Coughing
I expected a delivery package.
I coughed up a mouth full of silver.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
07.08.28.15:37:00@505HudsonNYC
08.05.25.20:09:16@296NYC
Accomplished Assassin
01. Sherry Long
Seattle, Washington, United States of America
1997
02. Juliette Haydon
London, United Kingdom
1998
03. Neal Youngstown
Hamilton, Bermuda
1998
04. Kelly Connell
Dublin, Ireland
1999
05. Paula Reel
New York, New York, United States of America
2000
06. Ryan McDough
London, United Kingdom
2004
07. Kaii Anderegg
Basel, Switzerland
2004
08. Yuuka Kasagi
Tokyo, Japan
2006
09. Jessica Height-George
New York, New York, United States of America
2007
10. Rebecca Greenfields
New York, New York, United States of America
2008
© 2008 David Greg Harth
07.09.18.18:25:00@296NYC
08.05.25.19:16:15@296NYC