These Hard Earned Tears
Infant eyes intimidated reason
Incubated empty dreams into emerging concepts
Grown out of lust and melancholy
Howling wind filled vacant hearts with rage
Chasing love on the storm’s wave
Echoing pleas from the drowning sea
Treading each territory with new hope
With constant loss and destroyed visions
Testimonials will recall the tale
As it was told and as it was captured
Surrendered to the fulfilled dream
His leman has the evidence
Last flight never forgotten
An abrupt end executed from desire
© 2017 David Greg Harth
17.09.06.13:31:04@1CTSQWLICNYC
Trees
As the end of the year nears
I walk these concrete sidewalks of my city
Evergreen soldiers stand tall
Like majestic canopies
That line bodega’s boundaries
The scent of spruce and pine and fir
Always remind me of you
How we’d walk hand in hand
Through the East Village grid
I have such vivid memories
Of being in love with you
But now that you’ve been gone for years
There is nothing I can do
But visit your grave
And never hold your hand again
© 2014 David Greg Harth
14.12.22.24:12:02@130BklynNYC
Taken Too Soon
Walking on the sidewalk
Passing reflections in the glass
Everywhere I look
I see haunting memories of you
It was twenty years ago to this very day
That I lost you
We were young and in love
We had grand plans
That our parents didn’t approve of
We talked of traveling the world
Making babies and love under a sunset’s ocean
We talked of setting up a small café
Among locals that spoke a different language than us
We talked about sailing oceans
From port to port
Even though neither one of us knew how to sail
We talked about writing a book together
About adventure and sex and loneliness
Even though we were virgins of life back then
I walk the cold streets of New York
And think about what could have been
An empty typewriter sits in my studio
My heart is broken
Because you were my first
And my only
Ever since you’ve been gone
There has been no one
Remotely comparable
No matter how many times I mend
No matter how many dates I attend
No matter how many samplings I taste
I wish the Five O’Clock was late
Bending around that curve
The train was on time
There was no warning
The lights weren’t flashing
The barriers weren’t down
My foot was on the gas
I was driving as late autumn leaves drifted in the air
Your hands outstretched from the car window
We were singing together out loud
Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” was on the radio
And that we were, so free
You were so cheerful and beautiful
It happened so suddenly
And in such slow motion
The cracking and crumbling
The shattering of glass
The car spun a few times
Around and around
When I came to
I felt the trickle of blood
Down my face
I looked at the passenger seat
And you were gone
© 2013 David Greg Harth
13.12.11.17:47:56@323NYC
There Were Three
I can name all three of them
There were three women
From different mothers
And in their own time
During their own lives
They destroyed the very heart
That existed deep inside me
I can name all three of them
These women were filled
With such passion and intellect
Each one radiated with a fire
Of care and talent
Each totally different than the other
Yet similar in fate
I can name all three of them
I will not speak of their name to you
I will not yield any hints as to who they are
But there were three thus far
Who annihilated by heart
Who obliterated the very core of what made me beat
I can name all three of them
They each stole my heart
Each woman was strong yet innocent
Each woman was filled with luring deception
I can name all three of them
For each took a dagger to my heart
Each tore the flesh off my bones
And each stabbed me with the thrusting of a bayonet
I can name all three of them
There is one extreme similarity to all three
It is not their name nor origin
It is not their hair color nor residence
It is not their eye color nor height
It is not their occupation or ethnicity
Rather I fell in love with each of them
Before —
I can name all three of them
And they can name me
With confidence
Your name will be the name I whisper
That I take with me into the shadows
During the death that I decide to lead
© David Greg Harth
12.11.18.15:54:06@323NYC
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
To The Woman I Love
This is a public expression
To the woman I love
I have published this expression
So, all who read it will know
Just how much I love you
And her name
was Idaho
And Idaho is the woman
I’m in love with
So put away your assumptions
Excuse your mistakes
Hide your fears
It’s her that I love
Not you
© 2012 David Greg Harth
12.01.05.10:03:46@130BklynNYC
Thank You Van Halen
It’s that time of year
Everyone says Thank You
Everyone is thanking
Thankful for this
Thankful for that
I’m thankful for Van Halen
And swooping chairs from the 60’s covered in hand knitted afghans
And military hats made of grey flannel
And swords and beads and M&Ms
And wooden tables and vinyl covered couches
And windowsills big enough to sit upon
And black La-Z-Boy chairs
And tuna fish and pineapple chicken and chocolate chip cookies
And the best chocolate milk in the world
And canned pears
I’m thankful for Van Halen
And Richard Marx
I’m thankful for Tom Cochrane
And Tom Stoppard
I’m thankful for Leslie
And Olivier
I’m thankful for Gilbert
And George
I’m thankful for Van Halen
And my 1991 Ford Red Probe
I’m thankful for all the doctors at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital
And Vicodin and Percocet and Huey Lewis & The News
I’m thankful for Van Halen
And remote electronic garage door openers
I’m thankful for the Garden State Parkway
And sunrises and sunsets that arrive at the same time
I’m thankful for Walkmans and Discmans and iPods
And these emotions that make me incredibly high
I’m thankful for Van Halen
And the prayers in my name
I’m thankful for prophylactics
And apple cider (served cold)
I’m thankful for pins and staples and physical therapy
And that high school cargo net
I’m thankful for blanketing snow
And goggles for my eyes
I’m thankful for gasoline
And tin containers that can hold ashes of the dead
I’m thankful
So fuckin’ thankful for Van Halen
Fuckin’ Van Halen
Mother Fuckin’ Van Halen
I thanked Van Halen so much in this poem
And you (the reader) have no idea why I’m fuckin’ thanking Van Halen
You don’t know the connection
Fuckin’ Van Halen
Thank you!
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.11.25.24:17:07@130BklynNYC
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
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
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
This is Suicide
I have an introduction to make.
You, you there, please meet my friend,
Suicide.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.12.04.01:43:15@130BklynNYC
There Are More Clouds In The Sky Today Than Yesterday
Losing my friends, losing my love
Like before, I look right - I look left
I smash the glass, I yell, “Father! I am sick!”
The glass breaks, the glass falls, the glass, everywhere glass
So, love opens up
Love opens the door
Ajar forever, he is the clock, she is the wind
Swimming in this ocean
Decisions are tripled
You thought I would never phone you
You thought I turned away and would never look back
Thorns and needles, stones and rocks, burnt ashes and broken glass
The world collapses around us
Magnified magnificent - the world pauses
Clouds parting, I’m in the air now
Fire is burning, flowers are blooming
She escapes through my fingers
The last strand of hair floats away forever
Dancing across the sky
She is the star in my heart that keeps me alive
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.08.12.11:23:35@130BKLYN
Terminées Amour
Orchestrated walk of ivory ghosts
Doves sing an epic unfolding story
Honoring the conqueror month began early
Laid our hearts down to rest
Recover the depths with felt blankets
Let nomads rub us down and heal us
Started something alone
Expected more waves of beauty
Art made mornings rise before nights departed
Recurring dreams dance our ballet
Flowers of memories wilt
Falling from our lasting empire
Barricade is constructed
Walls are fortified
Rivers run through inconsistency
Wind churns up today’s sea
Turning towards the light
Shade covers our year’s insight
Lonely evenings spent in solitude
World is ending beneath heavy black clouds
Deep drums beat toward lowered enclosed poisons
Pierced blues penetrate us both
Reasons elementary in life’s journey
Proposal on the heightened city
Point of passion now vanished upon the horizon
Warmth of another no longer near
Cease for other dedications
Drape the crests and raise the flag
Frozen eyes of sadness
Restless in their surroundings
Longing over our blindness
Not ourselves when one
Belonging on time spent to the fire’s ash
Forever forbidden to understandable truth
Bravery bound to the empty cavity
Declare the tale’s finale incomplete
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.05.29.24:07:14@296NYC
Twelfth of March
Upon the leap
He couldn’t see the span across the Hudson
But he could see all twelve floors on his way down
He hit west 168th street
The thirteenth of March never came
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.03.12.01:33:33@296NYC
Trying Hard
Pleasing you -
I try hard at my job.
I try hard at my art.
I try hard at my love.
I’m trying, doing the best I can.
I’m giving the best I got.
I know it’s not enough.
My tries are not hard enough,
I’m not trying hard enough.
I wish I could try harder.
I wish I could be someone else.
But I’m only me.
So, I think it is best to be said,
I’m better off dead.
© 2008 David Greg Harth
08.01.16.14:02:22@599BwayNYC
This Is Hardcore
In a back and forth motion
Almost a continuous pacing
Stroking repeatedly
It’s a remedy
In a vibrating moment
A counter attack
Slippage of something
Dripping out
So dewy
And succulent
Sinking in
Deeper into the ooze
Preaching thoughts shared in screams
Devoted to the wavering of two
Quivering intensifies
The wave crashes down
Gushes in its place
A treaty with sweat is made
At peace we are laid
© 2007 David Greg Harth
07.06.18.17:36:54@599BroadwayNYC
Telling Me, Making Choices
Why would you tell
Why would you tell me
Why wouldn’t you go
And why did you say that?
I can see you moving over this water
Swiftly to me across the lake
I can’t look back and I can’t look forward
Nothing resolved, nothing to bake
Why would you?
Cauterize me
Deceive me
But a swindler you are.
Watching the oaks sway in the sky
Watching the blades of the windmills rotate
They all tell me
That I am one of the wise men
A fool
Hearted and not grounded
You’ve left me stuck
I have two choices
Which one should I make?
© 2007 David Greg Harth
07.01.18.13:35:05@205HudsonNYC
There was a night
There was a night,
I remember,
We were across the street from your apartment building
The weather was mild with a tiny crispness
We were saying our goodbyes
A long goodbye
And you buttoned up my jacket
So sad
Yet so much care
That was a moment
That I’ll remember
Your love for me.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.12.13.13:13:30@205HudsonNYC
Turning
I never imagined
Written words over years
Fantasized about it
Took oil to canvas
Thirty One years ago I fell to this earth
Sent by your love to protect your heart
Here I am
Wasted and lost in this ache
No more fantasizing
And no more words carried on
Winter will turn into Spring
And Spring will turn into Summer
Summer will turn into Autumn
And the cycle of seasons will pass
I give up,
I’m turning my wings in.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.12.12.16:20:29@205HudsonNYC
Ten
Ten in the making
and ten passed by.
Tenth one third,
and ten to ten.
I’ve never been in love,
and I’ve never met an angel.
But ten passed ten,
that all changed.
I met an angel,
and I fell in love with her.
Ten times ten,
and the tenth of July.
Ten more waiting,
and the fourteenth of July.
Until ten times ten,
I’ll die in love.
Next to my angel
of ten.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.12.10.03:29:57@296NYC