How We Fall
Starts with one taking note
Of the other’s reproduction
Of the other’s seduction
Starts with one taking notice
Of the other’s stride
Of the other’s narcissistic pride
Starts with one taking notation
Of the other’s plump lips
Of the other’s curved hips
Starts with a symphony
An exchange of climactic harmony
Starts with a sail set free in the wind
A tryst where two have truly sinned
Continues with a gaze at beautiful eyes
A trace of fingers on soft thighs
Continues with midnight calls
Until finally heaven’s rain falls
It’s how we fall
Like a river running wild
Like a mother bearing child
It’s how we fall
Like an exploding volcanic eruption
Like a heart free of corruption
It’s how we fall
When your soul becomes my soul
And my soul becomes your soul
We have fallen
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.12.06.11:50:14@550MadisonNYC
I See Your Name
I see your name
Come and go
Come and go
Monday,
Tuesday,
Wednesday,
Thursday,
Friday
In passing, On the list
Come and go
Come and go
But that’s just it.
You are only a name now.
Not a person.
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.09.24.11:14:37@550MadisonAveNYC
Up
In the darkest midnight hour
Under the cover of blackness
Beneath the full moon’s scattered fingerprints
Drowned out by the rumble of approaching thunder
In the shadows of love’s past
Hidden among the forgotten and lost
Muffled by an echoed plea
Silenced with a concealed drum
Behind the defensive guard
Soldiers regroup and reload
The wall goes up.
Thick ropes are pulled
Iron gates are lowered
Water is emptied from the moat
Replaced with molten lava
Last chariots are escorted across
Bridges are destroyed
Staircases crumble to the ground
Ladders are burned to ashes
Catapults are dismantled
Instruments of flight are demolished
The wall goes up.
Released from the chamber
Now escorted back
Through violent storms
Through raging seas
To the frozen tundra
To the deepest depth below
Far below the obtainable surface
Far beyond the foreseeable future
Stolen and broken it was
Stronger and thicker it has become
The wall goes up.
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.26.14:34:31@550MadisonNYC
Attacking The Eaten
As if there was something left on their bones
We scurried to them
Their piles of bones so crisp and bare
We felt so famished and close to our own death
We were motivated to find one lasting piece
A little chunk of flesh left for us to eat
But nothing was there for us
Just bones and bones and bones and bones
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.23.15:01:21@550MadisonNYC
So Easily Forgotten
I was whisked
Uplifted and uprooted
That tornado came pounding at my door
No matter how I denied its entry
It still entered with such commanding force
Powerful to knock me from my stable stance
Spin me hundreds of feet into the air
Landing miles away from my origin
Now at a different location
With no sense of home
And no direction
No one knows my name
And no one recognizes my face
I am forgotten
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.23.14:21:37@550MadisonNYC
Gasoline
It struck me
As I was leaning against the gas station wall
We're on this road
Traveling together
But I had no idea
Where our destination was
I did not wonder
I wasn’t worried about directions
I wasn’t concerned about routes or boulevards
I wasn’t looking at the compass
And I wasn’t noticing where the shadows fell
We filled the car with gas
We cleaned the windshield free of dirt and bugs
We filled our snack bag with Twinkies and coke and chewing gum
And we admired the low gas prices at this small town gasoline station
The air here is crisp, as if a rainstorm just passed.
I can see rainbow swirls of gasoline in recently birthed puddles
The fresh scent of the pine trees behind the gasoline station infiltrates my nostrils
And you call to me, signaling that you are ready to go, ready to depart, ready to move on
So I leave my leaning position against the gas station wall
Leaving a slick muddy footprint from New York
With keys in my hand I walk towards you
And I asked, “Do you have your keys?”
With your answer,
It struck me,
We’re on this road
Traveling together
But I had no idea
Where our destination was
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.20.14:54:44@550MadisonNYC
North
Waking up in July has new meaning
I wasn’t expecting to break out of this dreaming
I’ve been with blue and I’ve been with brown
But in your ever-changing hazel I could certainly drown
I’ve been one to write a poem or a lengthy letter
But times like this are so rare, they are so much better
I’ve never started like this at ease
Who knew that you had the keys?
I’ve alerted the sun and I’ve alerted the moon
Each is primed to inspire as I look forward to spoon
I’ve been learning and I’ve been listening
Growing closer, I cancelled my waiting
I’ve even put cupid on hold
As these feelings begin to unfold
I’ve been known to run or duck or dive
But for this one, I’m willing to let it thrive
I’ve never been prepared for such a glow
It is this one I will cherish its grand flow
I’ve opened the door
Now ajar, yearning for more
Waking up in August is missing
It is you that I miss kissing
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.13.01:13:38@130BklynNYC
Happiness (Happiness on the Avenue)
I didn’t know happiness
Until the day I met you
In fact, it wasn’t the day I met you
But perhaps the 2nd day I met you
We were walking up the Avenue
I glanced over at you
And that smile of yours
Smiling and laughing at something I said
That’s when I discovered happiness
Everything before that, that wasn’t happiness
You -
You are happiness
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.08.10.17:08:31@550MadisonAveNYC
Another Day Has Descended Upon Us
My journey was long
From earth’s end
Through raging fires and horrid winds
Through endless seas and darkened skies
But I came forth
Out from the capturing forests
Out from the suicidal cliffs
Out from the swallowing deserts
I came forth
Because I heard your call
Your voice of reason
Your soft whisper
Your echoed song
Time is beginning to stand still
World’s rotation is coming to a stop
Everything is shifting, twisting and turning
But now that you are here
Everything makes sense
Everything matches
Everything is synching
This day is here
And this day shall not be forgotten
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.07.27.15:24:00@550MadisonAveNYC
Gladiator
Nameless creature of the earth
She is a Goddess presented before me
More than a decade of existence is one of many barriers
Not to mention the vertical erectness of limited time
Summer is upon us and soon the wind will carry her away
Again, I am not sure
The golden light has shined on her feet
Engulfing her steps from each point of departure and arrival
Where she walks, flowers bloom
Where she gazes, animals are born
She is a Goddess without name
Her eyes are poisonous to the glare
Testosterone fueled men drop to their knees in her wake
Mother earth is jealous of her beauty
Her passion makes the sun and moon dance with envy
It is certain, it has been said, and it shall remain as so
As the man I am, the man I once was,
As the man I have become, and the man who I will be,
I am not allowed to know her name
For she, the Goddess in golden light
Is a nameless beauty forever out of reach
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.06.10.12:16:07@550MadisonNYC
There Is A Helicopter In My Pocket
After being scolded I sit isolated
In the corner of the room
I’ve been forever alone
Ever since coming out of the womb
I sit there quietly waiting
With nothing to reveal
Patiently with no words spoken
From life I file for a repeal
My pockets are empty
Not even a hint of last week’s lint
With inquisitive blue eyes
I began to squint
Anticlimactic stories overshadow
Not even I, in a lover’s quarrel
Letting my possessions be my climax
For you, a fifty-dollar oral
Contemplating yesterday’s dreams
Among piles of discarded X’s hearts
Kissing many leads into an abyss of nowhere
I diagram, I plot, I’m making my charts
Sailing the uncharted seas
These pockets vacant for your nest
Wind carries me forward afloat
Dime-less in function, I am put to the test
Hands covered in dirty graphite
Burying every minute of my conviction
Weapons known; discoveries unexplored
Back on my knees, it is my addiction
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.03.18.18:17:33@550MadisonNY
Lost You
It’s been several years since we last spoke.
I remember that night vividly.
A phone call earlier, a knock at the door later.
I remember losing you.
I remember each day,
what life is like without you in it.
You are long gone, with an earlier departure.
At times I feel like I can’t function.
Sometimes I have a hard time breathing.
Often things that came naturally to me,
no longer do.
I find it hard to focus and concentrate.
I miss you so much.
I don’t know what to say.
But when I hear your voice,
in my head,
I can’t help but cry myself to sleep,
alone,
without you.
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.02.14.23:32:34@130BklynNYC
Jamaica Liberation Movement (JLM)
You don’t need much;
A good job, a roof over your head, some food.
Is that Jesus I see at the subway door?
Or is that Che? Or Daniel from yesterday?
I’m joining the Jamaica Liberation Movement
It’s something you should know about
As I begin to rid myself of these possessions
No longer needed and no longer necessary
I’m disposing of all the ones not in use
No sense to have them with me
Even the Volvo must go
It’s better I work for the district
And see the shows
From the Brighton Beach Q
From Afghanistan’s long ass haul
I’m joining the Jamaica Liberation Movement
And I’m not coming home
I’ll be gone forever
Even with broken glass knocking at my door
My back turned, I won’t turn into Middle East seasoning
You don’t have to trust me, take my word, or make any promises
A good listener always finds the faults
Who is to blame? Who takes responsibility?
With no one answering these questions, they exist unanswered
I’ve joined the Jamaica Liberation Movement. The JLM.
From Valeria of Panama to Cuba’s hope.
From the injustice of my Brooklyn streets
To President Obama’s incompetence
My laughter is here now, my pain is here now
I’ve joined the JLM. I’m not coming back. I’m not coming home.
You don’t need much;
Just a good job, just a roof over your head, just some food.
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.01.29.24:53:07@130BklynNYC
Two Eggs
On the last day of my arrival
It was cold out, frigid
The Bronx air made tears roll down
Wind would cusp my wishes
Snow lined the streets
Procession marched just last week
An empty apartment before me
Decades of nothing now gone
Everything once was so magnificent
So real, so vivid, so warm,
Like a fireplace behind the hearth
No one to phone,
To check the status, to bring in the new
Or to alarm about early departure
No one to slip five, no one to eat lunch
No one to wave goodbye, no one to sleep
Alone with no one
No father, no sister
I reach for the door one last time
I see two hard-boiled eggs in the refrigerator door
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.31.18:13:45@130BklynNYC
Not In My Heart
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
In my heart
No dreaming allowed
No occupation could occur
My heart is closed
Its doors are shut
Its locks are turned
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
In my heart
No imagination in motion
No habitation
My heart is closed
Its chambers no longer function
Its flow discontinued
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
In my heart
No romantic gaze enters
No radiating warmth shared
My heart is closed
Its impenetrable borders are up
It’s sealed forever
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
From the red cliffs
I shout a deep shout
You are not allowed in
My heart is endlessly closed
Imprisoned from deep within
Nothing goes in
Nothing goes out
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.20.23:36:14@130BklynNYC
I’m Forgetting
I’m forgetting those moments and mysteries
Those violations and transitions
Those constellations and presentations
I forget to pause
To think and breathe
I forget to live life
I forget your name, I forget your face
I forget what you smell like and how your voice sounds
I forget this fantasy, this dynasty
I forget the past, the present
I forget to dream and forget my purpose and forget the drive
I forget the milk, I forget the eggs
I forget to call, I forget to write
I’m forgetting everything
My numbers, my phone, my address, my book
My place, my birth, my time, my location
I’m forgetting my senses
I’m forgetting my reasons
I’m forgetting my songs, my disease, my search
I’m forgetting my love, my loneliness, my capital, my gain
I forget which road to take, which path to walk
Which turn to take, which switch to operate
Which signal to read, which offer to take
I’m forgetting everything beyond everything
My left from right, and right from left
My bible, my pencil, my pen, my paper
I’m forgetting the lyrics, forgetting the birthdays
I’m forgetting my appointments, forgetting my meetings
I’m forgetting each time, every time, future time
I’m forgetting this, that, and this and that
I’m forgetting what it’s like
I’m forgetting where to go
I’m forgetting what to do
I forget my place and forget my memory
I forget nothing to everything
I forget how to end
I’m forgetting to forget
And I forget the forgetting
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.14.09:48:11@130BklynNYC
Bridge Of Kings
I.
So tired, so lonely
So alone, so disheartened
So dead, before you died
Missing Oma
Dying without function
Dying with your son not talking to your granddaughter
Dying with your son not talking to your grandson
Dying without your brother, without your sister
Dying with nothing in hand, everything in heart
II.
I haven’t found my love
Before Oma’s death I wished
Before your death I wished more
Before burial of one more I wish heavenly so
You said your last goodbye
I held your hand as you held mine
Tomorrow I’ll say one last farewell
As I see you lowered to ascend
III.
At the gates
His Love welcomes him
The legend, The man
Who gave so much
I watch from a distance
As he crosses
The Bridge of Kings
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.09.09:40:15@130BklynNYC
Delayed Departure
You growl and moan death rattles
Send a howling wind across the room
Haunting deep songs echoed
Your baby brown eyes are closed shut
As if a tailor had sewn them permanently
To prevent one last look, one last glance
Your dry tongue cracked like the earth’s desert
On the roof and sides of your mouth
Resides a collection of yellow pus like material
A crackling cough is produced with congestion and mucous
Airways now clogged with life, delaying your wished departure
You are late, but your flight will take off
Bad breadth swarms your last cries
Your fresh new diaper emanates
Smells of shit and urine
You bring your left hand to your head
Combing your hair in the opposite direction
Your left arm crosses to bring your limp right one to your chest
Right leg lays still and lifeless
With a gathering of toes overlapping toes
Your nails are fungus ridden, on both feet and your right hand
You look like a photograph I’ve seen from the Holocaust
One of those humans in a pile on the street
Discarded but never forgotten
Your skin is melting off your skeleton
The skinny bones now draped in flesh
Falling off your frail frame, discarding their use
Fragile and splintering
Like a wishbone about to be broken
A twig fallen from the autumn tree
So pale and ghostly
You are white as a winter day
Flaking into eternal dust
Every day you were cold
Bundled in sweaters and shirts and layers
Now you remove the sheets and blankets, warm, moving toward the light
The oversized diaper reveals
Your thin scattered pubic hair
Long strands like Okinawa grass coming forth
Blood clots and scabs and bruises line the contour of your body
Gateways and damns preventing life and death
Your chest bruised from where we tried to wake you
Dentures sit in a plastic jar of water on the porcelain sink
Your aged cheeks sunken in, your moustache still proud
When you sneeze, your left hand automatically wipes your nose
Weight has gone rapidly, more than before
Your wedding band is too big for your thin finger
The ring is sliding off, slowly inching towards the dirt below
Your nipples protrude stiffly through your hospital gown
I can see the impression of the pacemaker on your chest
And feel the slight amount of hair on your arm
Your body quivers now and then
In an uncontrollable vibrating motion
Your knees and legs tremble to a rhythm unknown
You still carry a full head of hair
Thick grey hair so white
You have hair of God
When I kiss you goodbye, afraid I am not
On your cheek, your lips, your forehead
I say goodbye every day
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.07.11:18:47@306Greenwall2545UnivBronxNYC
Waiting (Version #3)
I’m sitting next to you
At your bedside
In this sterile room
Of a Bronx hospital
Your reasons are gone
And your spirit has departed
Your hand is still warm
Your mouth, still damp
You don’t know that I am here
You cannot feel my touch
Hear my voice
Or see my soul
Together we are just waiting
Waiting for you to die
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.02.11:14:00@Greenwall2545UnivBronxNYC