Skin & Bones
"Skin & Bones"
All she ever was
To my silent majority
And catastrophic heart
Skin and bones
And skin and bones
And skin and bones
Contemplating spine crushing
Chastity locking
Ego stroking
Couldn’t be at yesterday’s benefit
Couldn’t be at the reception
Couldn’t be at the morgue
Skin and bones
And skin and bones
And skin and bones
Rrrrrrrrash
Skin and bones
Scrape
Scrape
Up off the floor
Scrape
Skin and bones
Scrape
Seasons come and go
Scrape
Lessons to be learned
Skin and bones
© David Greg Harth 2016
2016.05.17.15:53:17@200VeseyNYC
Sometimes in the Sadness
In fear
Reaching into the unknown abyss
Attempting to find location
Empty handed
Blind to the reasons
Crawling upon the ground
Pulling the weight of your body
With digging fingernails into the splintering floor
Scratching the dirt
The sound of chalk on board
Burning decaying eyes
Guilty pleasure standing tall
Expensive expanse
These battles and quiet hymns
Raging fires scorching
Dying screams unheard
Sunken heart of despair
War is on
© 2016 David Greg Harth
16.02.21.20:45:19@130BklynNYC
Something I’ve
She approached
With a wave and a hatless flow of hair
Her killer smile made my knees melt into the snow below
But I won't talk about that
For now
Because her intellect
Stimulated conversations
Of multiple directions
She kissed me
I kissed her
In the frigid air
Taught me well
A new perspective
Which I love
At my old age of dry eyes and acid reflux
To listen
Think, once again
Before I speak
A reflection
A believer
Romance
Forefront
Forward
She enveloped me
Briefly we thought, scared me
I checked
Her bitten hands covered in gloves
There was that smile again
Hop on the plane
Next destination
Prediction, perhaps
Welcomed observations
If she never comes back
To the circle I have become
She shed light
To the fact that sometimes
I am indeed
Too square
But she
Is the circle with no fear
The courageous tiger that stares back at you
The global beacon
Which I hear,
Bing, Bing, Bing
The educator - The teacher
Not even counterfeiting
Or dancing
But prowling with determination
Sly, she knows
With a whispering departure
She goes...
At the end, it’s all
Something I’ve learned
© 2014 David Greg Harth
14.01.24.02:36:41@130BklynNYC
Saying Goodbye
For dozens of years, I’ve whispered your name
No matter how many times you’ve disappeared
The dreadful day approaches the same
Beneath these falling snow flakes
I separate the clouds and part the seas
When I’m in love, I never halt the brakes
So, when I hover over you in your deepest sleep
Share secrets of my heart with your dreams
Do not fear and do not weep
For I’ve come to guide you and rescue you
My honest chivalry and sublime passion
Worn on my sleeve, shown through and through
Before I depart
Know my veracity
I loved you more than my art
Once more I shall see your seductive eyes
I shall put up my sail and be on my way
After we say our last goodbyes
© 2013 David Greg Harth
13.02.11.09:59:53@130BklynNYC
Sarah Gail Hutcherson
In passing through others
I heard her name
And she heard mine
One day
We detected and determined
Something quite similar
Not acted upon
Only shared and discussed
We attempted to arrange
And engineer the similarity
Yet still to this day
Only a dream
Of warm coastal drifters
And north east storm dwellers
By three names she goes by
Like children who show and tell
With hidden secrets
And the push of pull
Of wondering
And the constant wandering
From state to state
In the unconscious state
Of our minds
© 2012 David Greg Harth
12.09.29.13:21:02@130BklynNYC
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
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
Speaking At My Funeral
Not fearing death comes easy to me
Quite simple actually
And quite often I seek death
I look for death
I welcome death
It’s an uncontrollable habit
And even easier at this moment
One day I’ll commit suicide
It won’t be a surprise to some
It won’t be a shock to others
It won’t be a performance art work
But the day will come
And I’ll be dead
By my choice
This is an invitation
To all of you
You may know me well
Or not at all
But you may come to my funeral
And speak
Now I must go
Because there is one more thing to write
One more work to create
And one more love to love
© 2012 David Greg Harth
12.02.04.24:31:31@130BklynNYC
Swallowing Ajax
I’m healing
This is the fact that you should know
I didn’t know that I was being served a swallow on a plate
The plate was white porcelain with a blue trim
Quite beautiful actually
The swallow was hidden in sauce
With crispy onions and toasted almond slivers
Garnished with greens that looked like whiskers
Served with a white wine at room temperature
I ate the swallow without knowing it was a swallow
It went down simple
And was actually delicious
When I got home
I felt I did something morally wrong
And I still had no idea I just ate a swallow
To rid myself of this sin
I took a 14oz container of Ajax
Combined it with 32oz of water
And drank
My sins are gone
So is the lonely swallow
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.11.18.13:05:03@130BklynNYC
Something We’re Not
When I was a baby
I was something I was not
When I was a child
I was something I was not
When I was a teenager
I was something I was not
When I was a young man
I was something I was not
When I was a man
I was something I was not
I am something I am not
And I am not something I am
Something I was and something I will be
Somethings are different and somethings are better
Better to be something than not something
And better to be something else than nothing at all
Something is better than nothing
And nothing could be better than something
If that something is something you are not
When I was something
I was not
And when I was not something
I was something
When something is wrong
Write something down
When something is written
Something is forgiven
And when something is forgiven
Something is not
And not something is still something
But something is not what I want
When all you want is something
Something else
And something you are not
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.11.12.10:13:13@130BklynNYC
Silently Destroyed
Without warning –
I was attacked
The deadly serpent
Has been stalking me
Watching my every move for the past few months
Watching my comings and goings
Watching my daily routine
She tortured me
She wailed her songs
She lured me with her dance
She punctured my tough skin with her razor sharp teeth
She sucked everything out of me
She removed all of my vital organs
She dug out my heart from its skeletal shell
Without warning –
I was attacked
The serpent came
Quietly and slowly
From behind she crept
Beneath dark winter clouds
While time was passing on the evolutionary clock
I didn’t see it coming
These terrorist tribunals
These tremendous troubles
These explosive endearments
She stole my season
She captured all my reason
She made me commit to love’s treason
Without warning –
I was attacked
Night and day
She ate me alive
And she hijacked my heart
Now I am defeated
And now I am destroyed
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.02.08.01:35:18@130BklynNYC
Sinking In Sorrow
I am sinking,
Water up to my neck,
I can’t help my ache.
Wanting you
Like never before,
Never healed.
Never in love.
I am sinking,
Over the rush.
Climbing and tackling,
Taking the journey
Head on.
I am sinking,
Following your steps.
Avoiding the flood.
The drops of pain.
Love is all around.
I’m here,
Always for you.
I am sinking,
My heart is breaking.
An ensemble of
Cloaked mourners gather.
Under dark skies
Bagpipers play.
Drowning out these
Tears of love.
I am sinking,
I’ve written you a love song.
I’ll whisper it in your ear,
As you get lost
In my arms.
I am sinking.
© 2005-11 David Greg Harth
05.07.01.21:56:00@NYC
11.01.05.16:59:21@550NYC
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
She Doesn’t Know
Wake up
Slowly rise from your secure sheets
Set aside last year’s tears
Paperwork is done
Signatures made it complete
I love her beyond any moon’s dream
I love her from eternity to infinity
How come she doesn’t know?
I haven’t told her yet.
Wake up
From the sleep which hides you
Bring forth your beauty
Allow me to enter you
As no man has entered you before
I love her more than the stars cradle the moon
I love her more than the waves break on the beach
How come she doesn’t know?
I haven’t told her yet.
Wake up
Let my whispers guide you
Let my gentle touch caress you
This heart belongs to you
Forever you may keep its chambers
Let our lips collide
Through transatlantic borders we do not divide
Love like this will never hide
How come she doesn’t know?
I haven’t told her yet.
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.09.26.14:29:05@BirzeitPalestine
Starbucks Whore & Folgers Pimp
I will not hide
Declare the truth from deep inside
Broadcast my desire
The hills of Athens are on fire
I want to cup your perfect breast
From my palm to my mouth
Ideas simply suggest
So, remove your quill from your given
Install wishes to your lady’s driven
Touch your soft skin to mine
Let words intertwine
Round honey stare
Your skin sensitive and bare
From hourly champagne
To your splint with her in the rain
This is the break, the part, the area when you become a whore
From corner to corner, you always want more
Bring up the coffee to your rose lips
My caffeinated tongue shall trace the outline of your hips
But who am I? But just a Folgers Pimp
My beating heart has a continuous limp
Alone in my world of compositions
With coffee, we’ll have multiple positions!
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.08.30.19:51:33@130BklynNYC
Second Time
In the emptiness of it all
A string quartet plays melodies
Similar to the ones that of my grandfather hummed me to sleep
I break open
Pour the coffee, skip the milk, add the sugar
Silently sipping, now lukewarm after a few minutes wait
It was raining on that December day
I was brought by ambulance to the hospital
Given injections in my legs
Still, I lay
Still, I have become
No fear, or regrets
No embarrassments, no chartered waters
Like I said, no reasons, no more
I stand tall
With my fleshy weapon strong at my side
My eyes focused on the target
Rage in my heart — no sympathy
In my shade I cannot hide
In the sun, I will fade, and surely die
With no more options
No more running, making, inhaling
Without freedom
Without eight hours fight
Without her love
Only a small instance
Of left over scraps
Of left over disease
I beg you to forgive me
For what I am about to achieve
My achievement,
Museum quality
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.08.12.21:08:31@130BklynNYC
Spectrum
Swiftly moving
In this underground galaxy
Beneath rivers of imports
And solid granite rock
In long metal cans
Conditioned with cold air
Stuffy urine sweat
Or wet dogs of August heat
I travel to and from
Among every color and background
With Puerto Ricans, Koreans and Indians
With Germans, Greeks, and Chinese
With Christians, Muslims and Jews
With punks, preps and beauty queens
Each shade of a person
Next to me
I’m the minority
On these orange seats of paradise
We are all in transit
Dressed in black
Or the monk’s cloth
Short skirts and platforms
Or jeans below the knees
In our suits and ties
And grandmother mothballs
In our Yankee caps
And Cole, Karan and Klein
Reading, jiving and gazing
Writing, listening, and sleeping
We ride at night
And sunrise must
We travel for dollars
Five borough hollers
This is my New York City
My journey, my home
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.05.01.11:40:00@ManhattanBridgeNYC
09.05.14.22:33:49@130BklynNYC
Seppuku
I guarantee you.
You have a full warranty.
For years to come.
Full replacement.
Parts plus labor.
You have nothing to worry about.
Everything is perfect with your purchase.
Like said.
Like declared.
Like old age.
Like neuro twelve.
Like loving you.
Like telling true.
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.03.17.24:18:00@130BklynNYC
She heard me, She heard what I said
I told her what I thought
She was who I sought
I leaned in near
Whispered a secret in her ear
I spoke my mind
She was a goddess to mankind
I told her the truth
During her blooming youth
I warmed her soul
She completes me whole
I spoke from my arresting heart
No force could keep us apart
I told her forever I’d be here
Continued each and every year
I did not pretend, I did not lie
She is my earth and she is my sky
I spoke true
Love was making a debut
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.03.15.22:16:48@130BklynNYC
Sock Pimp
You pusher
You Swiss Mother Fucker
Bringing your Euro trash wants to
America’s K-Mart and Target and Hanes Catalog Order
You Swiss Mother Fucker!
You trailing behind my gold striped socks
You trading in your comfort greys for black thins
Pushing and pulling and putting on and taking off
You waiting in line for the Mode and Vox and Architect!
You bulldozer sprayer, hand holder, Shinjuku fish eater, squirt maker!
You waffle maker, breast molester, radiology tumbler, fowl mouth kisser!
You fart smeller, shit blood remixer, rock star, Mountain Dew addict!
You Swiss Mother Fucker!
Sock pusher, Sock hustler, Sock whore, Sock pimp!
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.03.11.21:29:38@130BklynNYC