Twelfth Floor

The eleventh floor was always an escape

An answer to the everyday illusion and imprisonment

But it wasn’t the quickest way down

It was that open window

During that winter day in the middle of January

You could barely make out the Hudson River

Blossoms came early

We’d dodge the doctor’s orders

And cheek our medications

We’d joke about the lonely man who later died on the floor

And the guy that looked like Kramer who did the Thorazine shuffle

Or the teenager who constantly washed his hands over and over

It was just me, a Guy, and The King, and Little Rich with the plantains.

Betty caught me touching myself once while in the shower.

These are the things I remember.

That’s a lie.

I remember everything and a lot more than I’ll ever share with you

Because you are just a reader of words

Not a reader of my heart

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.09.02.03:31:20@130BklynNYC

207th Street and the Sound of Crickets

It was usually a Sunday

Sometimes a Saturday

I would ride the A-train

All the way up North

To the very last stop

I don’t recall reading much

On those trips

Quite often I would listen

To my Walkman

Years later my Discman

Until finally my iPod

Usually, I would make a day of it

I would leave early in the morning

Stay for lunch and depart just before dinner

But there were times

That I came for dinner instead

For some reason

I had fond memories

Of your tuna fish salad

It really was perfect

Better than Dad’s

Better than my own

I remember you bringing me some

When I was at school

You’d make a big tub of it

Packed tightly in

Recycled rainbow sherbet plastic containers

- Delicious!

I regret a few things though

Even though I probably visited you the most

I regret not seeing you even more

I cherished the naps we took together

Hours long, and that would be my visit

I regret not kissing you on your lips

I know our whole family does it

As a loving “Hello” or “Goodbye” greeting

But for some reason I never got used to it

Even Jordan kisses me on my lips

And I feel weird

Like that kiss is only for

My partners whom I have

An intimate relationship with

But as I reflect,

I wish I had kissed you on the lips

I certainly very much

Enjoyed holding your hands

Anytime, anywhere

And how our thumbs danced

I now have passed that

On to Sophie and Jordan

- Tight Squeeze -

I regret not meeting the

Love of my life

Before you both died

I know it’s something

You both wanted for me very much

But you know I try

It’s just almost impossible

For a woman to capture my heart

The lessons of love

You shared with me are invaluable

You were the Prince and Princess Bride

You were Hawkeye and Cora

You were Rome and Juliet

You were Oma and Opa

The other day,

I was standing on an

Outside subway platform

It was an unexpected cooler day

Among what has been a

Hot sticky summer

It was early evening

And I was headed to

Manhattan to have dinner

With Christine, whom you both met (and liked – loved)

The crickets were out

Chirping and singing their songs

They reminded of you

Two

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.08.17.22:33:00@QTrainAtlanticAveBklynNYC

Ownership

I’ve presented myself

I’m vulnerable, standing alone in this cave of life

I’ve completely given myself to you

I’m defenseless, treading alone in this sea of life

It’s up to you

To take up space in my atriums and ventricles

Keep me warm and glowing

From the inside out

As you already do

Nest in my chambers

For my chambers you have claimed

And my chambers belong to you

© 2011 David Greg Harth

10.12.07.15:34:45@550MadisonNYC

11.08.08.21:22:47@130BklynNYC

My Compass

You are my greatest north and due east,

My golden west and escaped south

You are my gravity, yet let me fly

You give me reason, and set me free

You are my warming sun and shining moon

My beginning dawn and concluding dusk

You give me breath, yet take it away

You are my shelter, and my Eden

You are my vital discovery and courageous sea

My radiant horizon and forgiving sky

You are the cure to my endless yearn

The key to my lock

When all directions point to you

You are my compass

Without you, I am lost

With you, I am found

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.08.03.23:46:17@130BklynNYC

Diving

I love diving

There is something so magnificent

About the way your body

Parts through the water

Upon landing

I love diving

There is something so majestic

About the way your body

Parts through the sky

Upon drifting

I love diving

There is something so morbid

About the way your body

Parts through the stillness

Upon the tracks

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.08.02.21:50:20@130BklynNYC

My Body (Failing)

If you asked me what I did today, I would tell you this:

I mounted a circular saw blade on the wall

In such a fashion that the blade sticks outward from the wall

Instead of flat against the wall

In this position, I was satisfied and hopeful

To rid myself of my constant pain

I lined myself up with the blade

I bent my head backwards

Leaning towards the ceiling

And then with one powerful thrust

I whip my head forward against the circular saw blade

And smack my head against its sharp edges

The blade cuts through my forehead

Only three inches in

I managed to penetrate the skull

But this did not solve my pain

I got out two buckets

Filled them with water

I took off my shoes

And I sat on a wooden chair

I placed each foot in a bucket of water

I then plugged in two hair dryers

I turned them on

And dropped a hair dryer in each bucket

Electrocution hurts!

But this did not solve my pain

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.07.18.18:52:32@323711NYC

Hotel de Ville, Room 3272

No corpse

Can be as exquisite as yours

If my memory fails

The trail of your perfume

Still remains and reminds

An evening of no delay

The moment was forever

Our tongues spoke different languages

Our hearts were seized in unison

We surrendered to the storm

Of illegal imagination

I lowered the shades

And the night became ours

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.07.10.09:55:00@MontrealQC

Künstler Selbstmord

Women with razor blades

Art world confetti with blindness

Impersonators with hatchets

Employers with chainsaws

Lovers with incised war clubs

Self-inflicted amputations

Drowning in constant tears

Overshadowed in perfect sunlight

Daily migraines and hourly headaches

Teeth falling from the sky

Banquet of thieves

Matriarchy conspiracy

Endless masturbation

Sweet addictions

Pussy affections

Living a nightmare

Neurological disaster

Spiraling downfall

Refusal of participation

Concrete negativity

Searching for eleven

Attempting graphite

Tempting illegal love

Powerful reason gone

Three remain irrelevant

Writings incomplete

Tasting enemies

Symphonic conclusion

Crucial termination

Thy third alchemical step

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.06.30.02:03:22@130BklynNYC

Winter Approaches

I feel this cold stillness

I put on my over coat

Over my shirt and over my sweater

I wrap my neck in a scarf

And I put my knitted hat on my head

Winter approaches

What have I accomplished?

But only another year

Of not killing myself

I suppose a rejoice should be had

For that in itself

May be considered

The greatest accomplishment of all

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.06.30.01:13:18@130BklynNYC

You, The Bank, The Knives

I went to the bank,

you were there.

When I got home,

you were there.

I leaned over for a kiss

You took two knives to my legs

Stabbed my upper thighs

And you ran out of the house

I went to the bank,

you were there.

When I got home,

you weren’t there.

I’m bleeding still

I’ve removed the knives

I’m recovering well,

Thanks for asking.

I went to the bank

I robbed it

And now I’m serving years

I committed this felony

Because I had a gun

Shot nobody

I’m still bleeding

I went home

You weren’t there

You don’t visit me

You are home without me

If it’s money you wanted

Why didn’t you just ask?

Why didn’t you just ask?

I would have given you my greatest jewels

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.06.30.24:26:39@130BklynNYC

Can’t Stop

Stop

Stopping is something I can’t do

I cannot stop this addiction

I try my best

I try everything I can possibly do

But I’m addicted

I can’t stop this addiction

I’ll hunt

I’ll capture

I’ll lure

I’ll convey

I’ll produce

But I can’t stop

I try and try and try

No matter what I do

I cannot stop

I can’t stop

I could not this morning

I could not this afternoon

I could not this evening

I can’t now, I can’t later

I couldn’t stop yesterday

I couldn’t stop today

I doubt I’ll stop tomorrow

I’ll try my best

I’ll try everything in my power

I’ll try to delete and I’ll try to erase

I’ll try to avoid and I’ll try to persuade

I’ll try to mingle and I’ll try honesty

But I can’t stop

There is no stopping

I cannot stop this addiction

I’m addicted and there is nothing I can do to stop

I can’t stop

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.06.27.20:57:31@130BklynNY

Messenger

Neither fate nor reason

My heart has been annihilated

Held accountable for high treason

I have gone far to declare my plea

Barriers crossed and persuaded vestals

Your beauty swallows me up like the sea

Love’s anthem has been sung by choir

No matter how many mountains or oceans I shall travel

My covet for you will never tire

Early sunrise brought morning song

Master’s root birthed angelic trinity

It is to you, which I belong

I have selected the clandestine mask for my war

In and out I’ll drift like a howling wind from past

A heart like mine is not easy to ignore

With each passing tide

I’ll follow your forever scent

There is no captor who can hide

Early on you became my keeper

When you harpooned my heart

I fell in love with you deeper

I melted at your mesmerizing allure

My chronic disease escaped

You were my only cure

You are the continuing catalyst

That makes my timepiece go forth

I promise you another tantalizing tryst

An angel filled with compassion

Yet it was you who abandoned

And sent for my assassin

In your absence I’ve become dead

Your sweet voice still echoes

I hear what you said

Denying our unification

One cannot evade for long

For it is love’s greatest violation

Thicket of thorns bound my head

All angels of sympathy visit my gate

Each adversary wishes I were dead

Sentenced to multiple years

Confined in shackles under darkness

Each river you cross is made of my tears

For eternity I will find my means

Even from this forced exile

Every night I’ll infiltrate your dreams

You enslaved my heart

Once free from this prison

It’s not easy to begin another start

You were my sanctuary of tranquility

Only an artist’s death

Can create such legendary visibility

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.06.27.11:49:11@130BklynNYC

Written in five cities:

Hamburg, Copenhagen, Mexico City, Washington D.C., New York City

The Divided Heart

Divided territories

Borders patrolled

Divided portions

Borders infiltrated

Something to be worried about

Something to be feared

Something to comprehend

And something invalid

This heart of mine is divided

As it often is

Torn in half

Torn in quarters

Torn in eighths

And so, on

When I first laid my eyes upon you

I fell in love

At very first sight

And this happens

Each time I come across you

If only

I knew your name

And forgot hers

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.06.20.17:50:00@NYC

Elbows

Let me tell you a story

About my elbows

When I was younger

Younger, meaning just a few years ago

I was in horrible pain

My elbows

I decided to divide my arms up

First the left side

I took a hacksaw in my right hand

I cut off my left arm, just below the elbow.

I then struggled to wrap a tourniquet

Just below my elbow

Using my right hand

And my

Teeth

I can assure you it was very difficult

After wrapping the lower portion of my severed left arm in wet gauze

I placed it in a huge thermal container of ice

The next part

I took the hacksaw again

With my right hand

And cut just above my left elbow

I placed my left elbow

In a jar filled with formaldehyde

I then unwrapped the lower portion of my arm

From its frozen gauze

Placed it on the table and lined up my now shortened

Left arm

I removed the tourniquet

Steadily, with my right hand and my

Teeth

I sewed my lower left arm to the upper left arm

My elbow

Now

Gone

The next part proved itself quite difficult

I’m a right-handed person, not

Left

I took the hacksaw in my left hand

And cut off the lower part of my right arm

This was difficult because I could not remain steady

I did not have a clean cut

Quite jagged

Ripped

And

Torn

But I managed to remove the lower part of my right arm

And like the left

Next came wet gauze, ice, tourniquet.

Following along

I then cut off my right elbow

And placed the right elbow

In a separate jar from the left elbow

And like before

Following the steps previously

Only extremely more difficult

With my left hand and teeth

I sewed my lower right arm to my upper right arm

In the past you have incorrectly perceived me

To be a man with two elbows

What you don’t know about me

Until now

Was that I am man

With no elbows

Except for my two jars at home

Each containing

An

Elbow

© 2011 David Greg Harth

Asparagus

Asparagus,

You make my pee stink!

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.6.08.06:53:00@130BKLYNNYC

Your Ass Is Like Moonlight

The last time

I was penetrating you

You were bent over

And I was sliding inside you

From behind.

My view was divine

The last time

Oh! Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh

Moonlight

The last time

I robbed your heart

You were wrapped in my sheets

And I embraced you

From behind.

My view was divine

The last time

Oh! Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh

Moonlight

The last time

I photographed you

You lowered your clothes

And I witnessed your porcelain ass

From behind.

My view was divine

The last time

Oh! Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh

Moonlight

The last time

I went down on you

Your soft lips tasted so sweet

And I lifted you upwards

From behind.

My view was divine

The last time

Oh! Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh

Moonlight

The last time

I was in love

You ran away from me

I said farewell

From behind.

My view was divine!

The last time

Oh! Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh

Moonlight

Moonlight

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.05.16.22:02:00@FLT1124

Often

They (They) think I'm a male whore

It’s not true

I may flirt

I may believe in true chivalry

I may be warm and caring

I may be passionate

I may have a thick cock

But it’s not true

My number is low (and sacred)

But I assure you (all)

I am selective

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.05.16.21:12:00@FLT1124

Baltic Love

These sails of time are cast

I am the boat which leaves dock last

I’ve leaped across this sea

So, my truth could be with thee

You have the nautical chart

To the seascape of my heart

This struggling battle inside

Brings each new turning tide

Deep in the depths of you

Is the key to my eternal view

I was a vacant shattered hole

But you escorted me to your soul

Within me the endless patience resides

Forgetting these dreams of ritual suicides

My best friend is time

Falling in love with you was my colossal crime

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.04.29.10:56:00@VordingborgDenmark

Doctor’s Appointment

I went to the Doctor’s office

Because I had an appointment

9am sharp

And I was there at 8:45am

Because I’m never late for anything

My doctor informed me

That I’m dying

Of a broken heart

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.03.21.17:38:18@550NYC

Old Crusty Hole

I couldn’t help but enter

I was lured in

Tempted by the fate of promising jewels

Hidden aged diamonds

One never knows what you’ll discover in caves

Or dusty tombs

And nooks and crannies beneath ancient pyramids

So I put on my archaeologist hat

And took the adventure

Digging around

First you go in with your hands

Feeling around

Touching the walls

Blindly not know what you’re feeling

This rough texture

This sandpaper

The walls are flaking apart

Aged particles falling off

Bark like a tree disintegrating in your hands

Dust coughing, clouds parting

I feel around not knowing what I’m searching

Trying to figure out if this hole is big enough

Trying to figure out if its acceptable

Can such treasures be found here?

Could I really go hunting inside here?

How deep could I go in?

After my initial search

I figured it was time for the exploration

With my past behind me

My weapon in front of me

I’m ready to go forth

These walls wrapped around me

I feel so enclosed

Encompassed

Like an old aged home

A library never read

A closet never opened

A coffin coming alive

This hole becoming ripe

I see the scratch marks my fingers made

Grey cracked walls

Peeling and chipped

No leakage

Barely able to breathe

I can’t find any air inside this hole

I dig deeper and deeper for this treasure

I know I’ll find it here some place

And gain this grand pleasure

These walls crumble around me

So bridle they fall and fail

These old walls collapse

Into a pile of dust

Deep inside this old crusty hole

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.03.19.15:49:48@130BklynNYC