Lost In On And On
Soldiers marching forward
Across the battlefield
A monopoly of mines plague these hills
Shoes soaked from a yearlong sweat
Still, we march on
Dark clouds roll in
A thunder cracks and divides sky from ground
The rumble of drums shamble in the distance
Without warning
I’ve become a martyr without asking
Lost
I carry on
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.12.20.15:57:50@550MadisonNYC
What Must Be Done
Demanded from yesterday
An old oak tree wilts atop the hill
Cold winter came upon us
Set forth this bone chill
Decapitated crow scowls
Thin ice cracks below feet
Dead leaves scatter in the wind
Soulless about to defeat
Distant church bells chime
An echo of sadness sweeps across frozen land
Funeral procession marches
Boat across Styx isn’t even manned
Desolate unknown graves blanket us
Alienated from mother’s womb
Hollow wooden coffins contain us
Vacant heart is sealed in a tomb
Damaged bricks form a facade
Footsteps in mud lead nowhere
Failing to see the door ajar
Plummeting into a spiral of despair
Dangerous falling of fate
Home now; empty of life
Sparse and silent of rhythm
Bled from head to toe with knife
Descent into depths of loneliness
Burned by a beloved’s deception
Nailed by foot, nailed by wrist
Born of immaculate conception
Damned wings are delicate
Ground caught daily tears
Soaked earth flourished
New trees sprout for years
© David Greg Harth
2010.12.17.09:42:10@550MadisonNYC
In Honor
Look carefully at the warrior I have become
Loyal, selfless and true
Back and forth, I am not quite through
I appear before your next inhale
I disappear before you exhale
I am the air you breathe
I am the wind that carries you
I elapse time between you
I create history beside you
I am the ground that rattles beneath your feet
I am the battle that rages in your heart
I am your unconscious decision
I will reveal my destruction and courage
My addiction, dedication and strong will
It is my destiny, my passion, my instruction
I am noble, brave, and fearless
I am exiled from your world
Filled with power, I come in death
I defy categorization, gravity, and emotion.
I conquer your heart, and become your love
I protect the innocent
Care for the aged
I spawn the non-existent
Cherish the forgotten
I pass through inanimate objects
Drift above cloudy skies
And in a moment’s time
I am gone without a trace
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.12.15.24:43:11@130BklynNYC
Alone
This is a poem, a note, a letter, a declaration to all those who have been alone.
I want you to know, that I’ve been alone too. I’ve been there. To that darkest region. To that deepest part. To the edge. Where its only you. Where nothing is left.
I want you to know that I’ve been alone. And when you are alone, I am alone with you.
I want you to know, that when you’ve stood on that subway platform, contemplating your slight bend forward. Contemplating if your entire body will spin when the train hits your head or if your body will fall off balance and onto the tracks. Contemplating if its better to jump long before the train reaches you or to jump right when it’s in front of you. Debating if you’ll only get a concussion or if you truly will end it all.
I want you to know, that when you’ve done all the research. When you’ve figured out a way to purchase a gun or to get a hold of a gun. I want you to know, that when you’ve finally reached that point. When you are sitting alone. And only you and a winter cascade or summer breeze encompasses what’s left of your life. When you sit with the gun in your lap and you debate if you’ll pull the trigger of the gun with the barrel in your mouth or aside your temple. I want you to know, that when you are alone at the moment, I’ve been alone with you.
I want you to know, that when you’ve been to the base of a large bridge. When you figured out a pathway to reach the highest point. When you calculated the time it would take to get up on top. When you realized you’d have to wear layers of clothing to make sure you’d be warm enough on top to have a collective thought to jump. I want you to know if you’ve made it to the bridge’s end. And you were looking up. Just about to climb. And you thought nothing was left. No hope, no love, no friends, no enemies. When nothing but water surrounded your echo below. I want you to know that when you are alone at that moment, I’ve been with you.
I want you to know, that when you’ve had a knife near. When you’ve rid yourself of a mobile phone. When you’ve swallowed the car key after you’ve driven yourself out to a remote area. When there was no direction and no exit. When you were about to gorge yourself. So your pain was so vivid you’d hope you’d wake up from the nightmare of life. And at that very moment you pick up and carry on. And walk forever to the nearest hospital to only lie to them why you’ve swallowed a car key. I want you to know, when you are alone then, I am with you. Alone.
I want you to know, that when you’ve been washing your clothes at weeks end and you realized that the gasoline will never come out and you’ll have to buy a new favorite shirt. When you realize it’s not the smartest option to execute your own death in your favorite clothes. When you realize it’s harder to burn oneself alive than most other methods. When you sat alone, covered in gasoline with a match nearby. When all was silent around you but the terrible pain in your heart continued to beat a fateful drum. When you were alone then, I was with you.
I want you to know, that each, method of suicide that you thought of, I probably thought of too. When you are alone, I am alone. And when I am alone, perhaps I’ll get a letter from you. And our bullets will fall like hidden angels to the ground, clanking as they hit the pavement.
© 2010 David Greg Harth
10.12.13.12:19:47@130BklynNYC
Opa (Version #6)
The phone was ringing.
I heard it from the other room.
I ran to pick it up.
I thought I'd get it in time.
I only heard it ring four times.
I picked it up.
You weren't there.
© David Greg Harth
10.12.07.15:13:18@550MadisonNYC
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