D, 2011 - 15 David Harth D, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Debralee Elizabeth Marianna Iacobucci

She was climbing a tree and caught my eye

I met her friends and we grabbed a drink

My cap from Berlin wasn’t lost in the cab

She cooked, woke me up out of my blue

Before I had a square on my wrist

 

She illustrates with uncommon love

And uncommon brush

Alumni of the same

Years apart

 

She lives across the sound

And admires the same sound

Naked in the booth

With her good man of the north

After each past bad

Brushed under the tiled floor

 

She was climbing a tree and caught my eye

She ate my apple

And cleansed my (soul)

At the right timing

And still

She climbs trees

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.09.29.10:24:17@130BklynNYC

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T, 2011 - 15 David Harth T, 2011 - 15 David Harth

These Lands

I.

 

These lands I walk upon seem flat

I hitch a ride on a satellite and orbit the earth

And I give out my business card with its hidden girth

 

You’ve trespassed on my heart

My complete circumference you swallowed

Left me howling and hollowed

 

I called for a press conference

To clear the air waves of false lies

Hid behind the curtain in disguise

 

You put on such a great act

Ignited my seeds and wings on fire

Yielded to the Southern Hemisphere sire

 

 

These lands I walk upon seem flat

With torn sails, a ruptured hull, and broken mast

I build new memories while hiding the past

 

You’ve impressed me and tore out my tongue

Speechless without reason or taste

My affection for you has been displaced

 

I listened to your whispering voice

It echoes and emanates from the lost void

Shipwrecked on this jagged coastline and destroyed

 

You are the most masterly thief I know

Stole every concealed map and unknown route

Left me upon the flat land in dire drought

 

 

II.

 

These lands I walk upon seem flat

In the horizon I see mountains rise up from beneath

Tonight’s dagger stays in its sheath

 

These lands I walk upon seem flat

I see tremendous elevations reach for the sky

A potential number nine in each cloud passing by

 

These lands I walk upon seem flat no longer

And these lands are rebuilt with stone and mortar

And in these lands I have left my vestige

For you to find me, oh new lover from forever

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.09.26.01:50:27@130BklynNYC

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A, 2011 - 15 David Harth A, 2011 - 15 David Harth

A comes before B

A comes before B

I see A, every time I’m searching for B

Every time I look for C or D

Or even E

I keep seeing A

 

A is always there and in my sight

Perhaps I should erase

Perhaps I should drape a black cloth to hide

Perhaps I should delete from existence

 

Its hard to make that change

Its hard to ignore

But as you search for any of the other twenty-six

twenty-six

A is always first

A comes before B

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.09.12.10:48:00@550NYC

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S, 2011 - 15 David Harth S, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Suzanne Barse

She slept across from her

That’s how I knew her

I didn’t know much about her

Except that she slept across from her

 

Months turn into years

Decades past

A rediscovery made

In one of the most nontraditional senses

And there she was

 

Still only a memory

Of a woman who slept across from her

With new light

Caring about her mother

So active

So warm

She didn’t just sleep

Across from her

Anymore

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.09.29.11:17:29@130BklynNYC

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A, 2011 - 15 David Harth A, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Another Kind Of Water

Traveling around the world

Launching my ship upon the ocean

With my largest sails unfurled

 

Searching for the epicenter

Embarking on the greatest journey

Wishing to meet the predecessor inventor

 

No anchor available for use

Rolls of braided twine in stow

Lover on mast above in a tightly gripped noose

 

She exclaimed my name

The winds savagely shook thy vessel

In vain she preached and blew out our flame

 

Disappearing into the ghostly past

Our love was only an ignis fatuus

It was my heart which was harassed

 

I became the suitor of lies

On these seas of despair truths will unfold

The echoes inside send shattering cries

 

One voyager now vanished

Shipwrecked on waves of salt

I am in this wasteland forever banished

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.07.25.17:59:00@550NYC

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H, 2011 - 15 David Harth H, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Heide Hatry

She was wearing black on 24th street

She was walking east to west and passed me by

The weather was sunshine with a breeze

She caught my eye

It must have been her German strut

I regretted not approaching

Not speaking

But

I saw her again

When I was having a drink later on with a friend

There she was

And so, I went up to her

Unannounced

I complimented her

And little did I know

That this exquisite beauty

Was cutting up pigs and piglets

And taking them apart

And sewing them back together

Like a German butcher

With a little piggy genocide happening in her basement

It was so sexy hot!

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.07.16.24:19:03@130BklynNYC

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C, 2011 - 15 David Harth C, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Chrysanthemums & Swords

The doctors told my family I wouldn’t live past the age of sixteen

She told me that she didn’t feel that magic spark

They informed me I didn’t get in

He told me I didn’t get the job

They never phoned back

She said “No”

He ignored

 

He taught me all about speaking and giving from the heart

She disappeared the morning after

She disappeared months later

I walked away

I ran away

 

The teacher taught me well

The instructor instructed me well

The lovers have all loved me well

The doctors and surgeons fixed me well

 

I got lost coming home

And I’ve never made it back

I’ve never been home since that drive

Every day I turn and all I see is another road to another road to another road

 

So on this 10th day of July, I ask myself

Do I take the road that leads to the sword?

Or do I take the road that leads to the chrysanthemums?

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.07.10.01:10:10@130BklynNYC

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C, 2011 - 15 David Harth C, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Christina Prospero

Stunning woman in blue

That is how she approached me

In that radiating hue

 

I won’t forget

Each and every moment

Every time we met

 

So close and far

Yet bonding souls

We each have hearts that scar

 

A poem she wrote

And became a Vampire’s victim

I never did bite her throat

 

She’s a living dreamer

And I can’t help but wonder

Is she a loud screamer?

 

Defender from pain

Insight to my mind

Love has been slain

 

Like soldiers we march forth

Because the two of us

Search for our due north

 

It all started in the garden of delight

Decades more we’ll know each other

For it doesn’t end with which I now write

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.07.09.07:47:36@130BklynNYC

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J, 2011 - 15 David Harth J, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Jorge Castano

He lit up my journey

And gave me spicy chocolate

He offered me a bite

And invited me to join him after a long flight

He made the hours go by fast

And reminded me of my approaching past

He collected my art

And was at the beginning of the start

He was about 35,000 feet

And he never did mistreat

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.07.08.11:41:59@130BklynNYC

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U, 2011 - 15 David Harth U, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Unvisited Locations

This space is often vacant

A hollowness which craves to be occupied

 

In the left atrium there is a huge area

Your wails can be heard in the empty cave

Echoing the dreams of hope

In the right atrium there is a tremendous zone

So vast, the blue oceans of the world cannot fill it completely

 

The left ventricle continues as an open field

Readily available for a new inhabitant

The right ventricle, a cloudless sky

Aching to encompass each floating cloud nine

 

Each connecting aorta and connecting pulmonary

Pumping the great warmth that makes me who I am

That trickles to the tips of my fingers

Of the hands that will hold you on any sunny day

And keep you warm on frigid nights

 

These are the unvisited locations in my heart

They are reserved for you

Come claim them

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.06.05.13:07:09@550NYC

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G, 2011 - 15 David Harth G, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Gulnara Khamatova

She jazzed her way to my couch

With Wham! She certainly is no grouch

 

From Moscow she jetted across the ocean

Her photography catches the musician’s emotion

 

While mending my internal scar

She consulted my heart from near and far

 

Continental leaping beyond yesterday’s tide

In my closet her tall shoes do reside

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.04.16.23:42:39@130BklynNYC

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L, 2011 - 15 David Harth L, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Lost at Sea

No exit

Or escape route

No out reached hand

Or phone call

No voice to hear

Or friendly eyes

No bird’s song

Or water to drink

No tip toeing children

Or animals to hold

No parachute

Or banking hours

No love had

Or will

 

The darkest days have arrived

The last sunset given

It is the stars that become dust

In the very land

In which we bury our dead

 

No way out

Or tunnel light

No shelter given

Or photographs taken

No easy transportation

Or lock and key

No article written

Or west side exhibition

No way to hide

Or loss of weight

No sight gains

Or remaining love

No memory served

Or reason

 

The darkest days have arrived

The last sunset given

It is the stars that become dust

In the very land

In which we bury our dead

 

It is at sea

Where we become lost

And it is at the bottom of the sea

Where I am most

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.03.05.01:08:19@130BklynNYC

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S, 2011 - 15 David Harth S, 2011 - 15 David Harth

The Stories We Tell

When we are children we tell stories

Usually make believe

Based upon figments of what we’ve experienced

Based upon fragments of our vivid imagination

A bit surreal like a Salvador Dalí panting

Our reality is blurred with fantasy

We accentuate the truth

Bend the truth or even ignore the truth

 

When we are teens

We try to make our stories become reality

We can tell the difference between fantasy and reality

But we try hard to make certain stories a reality

Even though some stories will remain a fantasy

 

When we are adults

We are actively creating real stories

We are actively participating in the stories we will at one time call our “life”

We make decisions which affect these stories

We make these stories take the directions we choose

As we mold and form these stories

As these stories mold and form us into who we become

 

When we are in our old age

When we look at our life that has occurred before us

We will have stories to tell

We will have stories to share

We will share these stories about our history

About our lives

The story I will tell is amazing

But how will your story be?

 

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.03.02.12:51:19@130BklynNYC

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E, 2011 - 15 David Harth E, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Enchantment

Life suddenly becomes revitalized

Collision course to seppuku avoided

Curtain lifted, veil removed, stones collapse

Poisonous eyes mesmerize

 

waiting,

            waiting,

                        waiting

 

Like a sword drawn from its sheath

Upon fields of cherry blossoms

Hovering over the asphodel meadows

 

This is the fire we’ve all been waiting for

Burning thoughts reveal truths

She injects me with her secret venom

 

The soldier marches on

Through the forest of the forgotten

Battles his raging conflicts of love

 

He comes forth

 

waiting,

            waiting,

                        waiting

 

A beauty like hers is rare

No precious stone or mineral

An abbess of my intromittent organ

Owner of my locked cave

 

At the entrance with the passport to my heart

Standing in a halo’s trinity

A shadow suspended over me

 

waiting,

            waiting,

                        waiting

 

She is the enchanting one

And enchanted I have become

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.02.27.12:03:19@130BklynNYC

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G, 2011 - 15 David Harth G, 2011 - 15 David Harth

The Greatest Crime Of All Time

You had no arsenal of weapons

You had no formal training in the art of war

You had no battle plan

You had no battalion

You had no armed forces

You had no strategic maneuvers

You had no undercover intelligence

You had no fleet of ships

You had no armored tanks

You had no air force

You had no maps of the terrain

You had no ground troops

You had no team of special agents

You had no advanced technological secrets

 

Yet the greatest crime of all time

Was committed by you

 

The greatest crime of all time

Was the day you stole my heart

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.02.23.12:11:48@130BklynNYC

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F, 2011 - 15 David Harth F, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Fetish Sex Party: The Report

It was just the other evening

It wasn’t too cold out it wasn’t too warm

It was five flights up in a loft in midtown Manhattan

We took the elevator up

There was a mysterious liquid on the floor of the elevator

We didn’t know what it was

It didn’t smell like sex juice

And it didn’t smell like pee

It didn’t’ smell like anything flammable

And it didn’t smell sweet

The elevator door opened

Two naked women greeted us at the door

They took our coats

And took a small fee

For we came as a couple

For the evening’s festivities

 

The night started off slow

We arrived just shy of midnight

The bar was open

A small petite woman in a tight purple dress served us

At the foot of the bar was a man wrapped in a blanket

We were instructed to step on him

Step on his body

Step on his face

We did

This man got off on this

He was a “Human Carpet”

Even the sign said so

I had a Guinness

She had a vodka cranberry

 

The loft was a decent size

A front room, we’ll call it “The Blue Room”

Because of the blue lights

A back room, we’ll call it “The Red Room”

Because of the red lights

And the main room, with the bar and multiple couches

Most of the couches had a black and white zebra print

I’m sure they were covered with stains of various fluids

I heard the loft was usually used to shoot porn films

There was also suspension points and restraint equipment

A large flat screen TV that played porn

The floors were wooden, the ceiling beams exposed

The Red Room had some chairs, a beanbag sofa, a bed, and a bowl of condoms

The Blue Room had some chairs, a sofa, and a stool chair

Which was perfect for bending people over

 

There were some single men

But not many

There were some single women who arrived with other single women

There weren’t many single women who arrived solo

There didn’t appear to be many lesbians

There actually weren’t that many gay men

But there were some

There were young people, perhaps early 20s

There were older people, perhaps early 60s

There were people too skinny

Only bones

And they needed to eat some hamburgers

Some had tattoos

Some had piercings

Some had neither

There were some voluptuous people

Some average people

Some well-toned fantastic people

Some really tall people

Some short people

Some people with bellies

Some people with short hair or long hair or no hair

Some wore leather and some wore plastic and some wore PVC

Some wore lace and some wore fishnets and some wore suits

 

Everyone was there for fun

Everyone was there to show off

Everyone was there to witness

Everyone was respectful

Everyone was social

 

There was a woman in a silky red dress

She spanked numerous submissive men

As anyone watched

 

There was a middle-aged man with silver hair and eyeglasses

He had an attractive middle-aged female partner with flowing blonde hair

Small breasts with perky nipples

He chained her up

And flogged her ass

And flogged her tits

As anyone watched

 

There was an old man

I would say around age 55

He was dressed as a baby

He called himself “Potty Princess”

He carried his own pink diaper bag

Which had a baby bottle

And a wooden paddle

And change of diapers

He wore baby shoes

Baby socks which glowed purplish in the black light

He wore a bonnet, diaper, and baby dress

He even changed his own diaper

And sucked on his pacifier all night

His binky

He would always stare at you in your eyes

Whether you were a male or female

But he truly wanted a woman to boss him around

 

There were two men dressed as women

They weren’t gay

Although, secretly, I thought they were

But no, they were just submissive

Seeking a woman to boss them around

Use them

Treat them like dirt

One of these guys had pussycat ears

And a pussycat tail

Between his thin pasty white ass

 

There was a time

When we went to the front of the loft

And looked into The Blue Room

And in the corner

We saw a woman

With a fat chunky ass jiggling

As she gave head to a seated man

A gentleman

 

All nightlong

There was rigging

And there was flogging

And there was tipping

That woman in the purple

At the bar

And the young man with her

Also serving

And maybe

Being served

 

There were spectators

And voyeurs

And exhibitionists

There were professionals

And amateurs

 

There was a very quiet Asian couple

Dressed in black

Early in the evening they were fully clothed

As the evening progressed, she had less clothes

And he had a collar and chain around her neck

Leading her around

At one point they were in The Blue Room

And the Asian man asked a dominant woman

To spank his woman

She obliged

We all watched

As she was bent over that stool chair

Which was metal

And had a blue strobe light beneath it

Which made a cross like image on the wall

When flashing

This Asian couple

Is the type of couple you would see in an Asian porn film

Their body parts

Their privates

Should have been blurred

Digitally blurred

Pixelated

 

At some point

The woman in red spanked Potty Princess

I hope that made him happy

All should have happiness

 

There was a very large black man

He wore a leather kilt

I wondered if he had a small dick

I never did ask

I only did wonder

 

Later in the evening

The big black guy

In the leather kilt

Brought a passed out skinny boney white girl

To The Blue Room

I’m not sure what ever did happen to her

The last I saw her she was on a couch

Like an overdosed rag doll

 

There was a very large white man

He was very large

Like big, but not fat

Tall

He wore a black top hat

I’m nick naming him

“Edgar Allen Poe”

 

There was a man playing with fire

He had a nude woman lay before him

She had big tits and an eager smile

She was on a table in front of everyone

He would light his glove on fire

And trace her naked curves with flame

As we all watched

 

There was an exquisite woman

With smooth creamy white skin

Soft to the touch

With penetrating hazel eyes

With perfect lips

And her tits protruded forth

From her outfit of black

She wore black stockings and a black garter belt

A black bra that accentuated her perfect breasts

The slight hair on her mound

Displayed in the open air

Throughout the evening

Her eyes caught mine

And I caught hers

 

There was a group of women

Dressed in black lingerie

I would have taken them all home with me

But that night I was not free

I was dedicated to one

I was eyed

By women

By men

But there is only one set of eyes

That has me whole

 

At around 5am

As I sat on the cum stained zebra print couch

She took my thick cock out of my pants

And just started to suck away

Giving me a nice sloppy wet blowjob

In front of any gazer

Any audience member

She choked away on my cock

And sucked and sucked

I stopped her short

And led her to The Blue Room

Where I put her on the couch

And thrusted my thick cock

Inside her

It was so easy

Since she was wearing a crotchless fishnet body stocking

And she was dripping wet in anticipation

Spectators watched

We could have charged admission

Because we were such a hot fuck

The smell of our sex drifted from room to room

And from room to room

We went

Until it was time to go

And leave

This

Fetish Sex Party

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.02.17.10:18:00@130BklynNYC

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L, 2011 - 15 David Harth L, 2011 - 15 David Harth

The Lonely Corpse

The lonely corpse sits on the sidewalk

Half distant and half personal

The corpse was once so full of life

He was a sparkled gem to some

An artist to others

To some, he was “David”

To others, he was “Harth”

Right now, he is an investigation

Surrounded by yellow tape

Blue and white cars

And numerous gawking pedestrians

Strangers taking mobile phone photographs

To be distributed through the internets

To numerous other strangers

It went so quickly

So far down

That last end

But now at least he’s not alone

Now he is famous

In printed media and tomorrow’s daily news

Online reports and tourist’s digital media cards

He is history now

A memory to some

An enemy to others

A once lover to some

And now he is just a corpse

A corpse on a sidewalk

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.02.09.14:55:05@130BklynNYC

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E, 2011 - 15 David Harth E, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Endless Possibilities

She took my heart

I offered it for free

I told her she could have it

I told her it was hers

 

She took my heart

She had it for a week

She remembered me entirely

For weeks and months to come

Only to discover I am not who I am

 

She threw out my heart

She threw it away

She disregarded it and disengaged

She refused to do anything with my heart

She disposed of it

She let it escape without a resting soul

 

She could have done anything with my heart

The possibilities were endless

But instead, my heart is now gone

Forever disappeared

And forgotten

 

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.02.09.13:58:43@130BklynNYC

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D, 2011 - 15 David Harth D, 2011 - 15 David Harth

Diagnosed

They transported me by ambulance

Making numerous turns down congested streets

Rain plummeted down upon the grids of chaos

The windshield became a kaleidoscope of city lights

Reflecting hollow truths and past memories

 

They said I had a very faint vital sign left

A slight pulse which would fade in and out

Gradually it would come into existence

And disappear just as easily as it came forth

 

They said I was found unconscious on the concrete floor

They didn’t know how long I was there

They were unsure what happened to me

They found me bare, bruised and alone

 

As I have come out of previous deaths before

It is no marvel that I survived this brush as well

Slowly digesting what the doctors revealed to me

I lay in this hospital bed I’m quite familiar with

 

The team of doctors in white coats

Came into my room just as I was eating the hospital lunch

Which consisted of slightly warm pasta with tomato sauce that tasted more like ketchup

A pear, a roll with butter, and plasticware wrapped in clear plastic

The plasticware package also contained a napkin and salt & pepper packets

Also included with the lunch was a small carton of 2% milk and a ginger ale

It was then, during my hospital lunch that the doctors informed me

I’ve been diagnosed with a broken heart

 

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.02.04.24:51:56@130BklynNYC

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