David Harth 2006-07-21 David Harth 2006-07-21

Execute

Afterwards,

When all the spectators have dispersed,

When the last crow sung its morning call,

When migrant workers marched on,

When heaven came to meet the horizon,

When your open heart became available,

It’s when I kneel,

hold, kiss, and touch

and become the man

of your half.

So, declare your honesty,

Let the silent heart speak,

For I have been listening.

Afterwards,

Beneath the stars,

We’ll make love by the Mediterranean.

06.07.21.02:37:36@296NYC

David Harth 2006-03-09 David Harth 2006-03-09

Elysium (Version #2)

Knowing that he,

Now disrobed from his wreaths of reign,

Set free from his constant pain.

Knowing that he,

With an unopened heart he lay,

Among snakes he now drowns in clay.

Knowing that he,

Untouched by the vibrant voices of the siren’s calls,

Survived the stays down long twelfth floor halls.

Knowing that he,

Conqueror of the midland’s fields of wheat,

Never a life so undone and so discrete.

Knowing that he,

Delivery agent of the compass made of gold,

Still his story has yet to unfold.

Knowing that he,

With flesh untouched by virgin’s hands,

Until the very end he had plans.

Knowing that he,

Never sung the choir’s song,

He knew on earth he did not belong.

Knowing that he,

Accomplished the greatest master piece,

Truly they know he is without cease.

Knowing that he,

Inside the grand depth deep.

Forever now he will sleep.

06.03.09.07:42:44@296NYC

David Harth 2006-03-09 David Harth 2006-03-09

Elysium

They assembled—

Knowing that he,

Now disrobed from his wreaths of reign,

Set free from his constant pain.

Knowing that he,

With an unopened heart he lay,

Among snakes he now drowns in clay.

Knowing that he,

Untouched by the vibrant voices of the siren’s calls,

Survived the stays down long twelfth floor halls.

Knowing that he,

Conqueror of the midland’s fields of wheat,

Never a life so undone and so discrete.

Knowing that he,

Delivery agent of the compass made of gold,

Still his story has yet to unfold.

Knowing that he,

With flesh untouched by virgin’s hands,

Until the very end he had plans.

Knowing that he,

Never sung the choir’s song,

He knew on earth he did not belong.

Knowing that he,

Accomplished the greatest master piece,

Truly they know he is without cease.

Knowing that he,

Inside the grand depth deep.

Forever now he will sleep.

However,

The gatherers were mistaken.

The great one was indeed in love,

In love with the she.

And her name is —

06.03.09.07:41:07@296NYC

David Harth 2006-02-07 David Harth 2006-02-07

Elevator

Move it

Rub your lips

Like the way you do

On the upward elevator

Dance

Gyrate

Wish you were my Valentine

Viewing your gallery

Obsession in my elevator

Rub your lips

With your treat

My treat

Wish it was

Elevator Up?

Going up

I am up

Erect in this building

Going far

Until I open up

Fifth floor

Walk-Up

Get Out

She’s wet

Rub your lips

Dance

Hear my compact

Just reach out

Touch me

You know that

1970’s

Rub your lips

Just once more

06.02.07.11:42:33@205HudsonNYC

David Harth 2003-02-19 David Harth 2003-02-19

Every Night

Every night

I forget to thank you

But tonight, I have not.

Thank you

For loving me.

03.02.19.02:32:47@296NYC

David Harth 2002-06-05 David Harth 2002-06-05

Escaping Thoughts

Every day, since I was little, I had a crush on you.

The only problem is that I’ve never met you.

I thought I met you a dozen times, and perhaps I did,

but you grew and changed form before I could adapt.

Every day, I think I’ll meet you. But when I think maybe

that I have met you, turns out you are involved already,

or you are married, or you don’t live in my city. Or you

are not intelligent enough or you are too up tight sexually

or you hate the music which I enjoy.

Every day, with hope at my side, I search for you, or wait

for you. I go back and forth with the execution of the

procedure. (back and forth, back and forth) Eventually,

possibly, I’ll meet you. But, I haven’t met you yet. Or maybe

I did, and you are right there in front of me? I really don’t know.

Every day, I think that you reside in New York City, or a few

other places, like Korea, London and Cuba. Love is in Cuba,

my dream is in Korea, I love the English accent, and in my

city of New York, you have a cowboy hat on. One day, perhaps.

02.06.05.12:37:31@16515NYC

David Harth 2002-06-02 David Harth 2002-06-02

EMO

Dear Ladies,

This past weekend I took a class in EMO. A two day course taught by two doctors that are married to each other. They are experts in sensuality and sexuality with ongoing courses in New York and California. They also have their own book out. I learned a lot this weekend. One thing I learned, is that I myself, have had the right ideas about sensuality and sexuality all along. But I also learned a lot which I did not know, and learned on how I can improve in the areas in which I lack. By improving in these areas, that will make my relationships with my lovers and partners even better. At this point, you may be reading and wondering what EMO stands for. I’d be delighted to tell you. EMO stands for Extended Massive Orgasm. Basically, the course taught me how to stimulate a woman with hand to genital contact and the possibility of giving her an EMO. In fact, part of the course was the husband and wife doctor team demonstrating. I witnessed the wife have an hour long Orgasm. Our problem as a general society is that we define an orgasm as cumming or ejaculating. But that is not the focus of the course. A person can indeed be in an orgasmic state, for as long as they want, if you (yourself, or your partner) has the right touch. I won’t go on much longer, but, I did learn the technique by attending the demo workshop and hands on workshop. I’ve also been reading the book too. So, ladies, I’m here. I’m available. And, I need to practice what I have learned. (Ha ha, but I really did go to this course.)

Yours truly,

David Greg Harth

02.06.02.23:00:00@296NYC

David Harth 2002-02-02 David Harth 2002-02-02

Embrace

I would have the bathtub ready for you

Just after you arrive home from work

Filled with hot soothing water

The surface draped in beautiful flower petals

Light from candles warm up the room to a golden hue

My smile can conquer any of the day’s sadness

With my hands I guide you to the scent of blossoms

Slowly I disrobe you and caress your soft ivory skin

Gently you submerge deeply into the hot bath

Mystical music is playing in the surroundings

We talk and laugh and smile

Exchange the warmness that surpasses the heat of the flames

I rub your wet back with my strong hands

Run my fingers through your silky hair and wash the beauty clean

Give you a delicate kiss on your sweet lips

I depart the bathroom for you to relax

As I prepare dinner for two

With the freshest of ingredients

Cooked to the perfection of your taste

Glasses of wine now await your re-entry

We have a lovely meal and a treat for dessert

Share stories of the past and dreams of the future

Have stimulating and inspirational conversation

Feeling connected during this moment caught in time

I lead you to the bedroom to have our own symphony

...

After the hours of love-making

The kisses to your lips

The traces of my tongue around your ear

The kisses to your inner thigh

The traces of my finger around the contour of your body

The kisses to your nipples

The traces of my scents intertwining with yours

The kisses to your back

The traces of my finger upon your navel

After all the kissing and tracing and love-making

We sleep together, in an embrace.

02.02.02.02:02:02 @ 296 New York City

David Harth 2001-12-23 David Harth 2001-12-23

Elevator Music Stinks In My Pocket

What’s that smell?

It’s Elevator Music

01.12.23.19:54:37@296 NYC

David Harth 2001-12-10 David Harth 2001-12-10

Escalators

I have to speak about Escalators.

There is little hope for the human race.

Very little hope.

I hate riding down the DOWN Escalator!

Why can’t people WALK down the DOWN Escalator?!

Is the human race getting that lazy?!

That they must stand while riding the Escalator going DOWN?!

Why can’t they walk down the damn Escalator?

Why do they just stand there,

waiting for the moving steps to bring them to the next walking surface?

Don’t they have someplace to go?

Isn’t that a great waste of time?

Life is about waiting.

We wait everywhere.

In traffic.

For a train.

At the bank.

In line for food.

Why do people force themselves to waste time by standing

on the DOWN Escalator?

It drives me NUTS!

How can we have world peace filled with intelligent people,

if people are so darn lazy they can’t walk DOWN the darn Escalator?

Before you know it, nobody will be walking. We’ll having moving sidewalks.

Then what will happen?

People will lose the functionality of our legs and they will fall off.

Then our butts will become nobbing knobs that roll and scoot across the land.

Legless. Hopeless.

Start walking DOWN the DOWN Escalator!

PLEASE! All of you! I beg you!!!

01.12.10.01:42:28@296NYC

David Harth 2001-12-07 David Harth 2001-12-07

Enemy

Part I.

I am the Enemy.

I am the target.

Everyone hates me.

From South to West.

The married, the involved, the single.

I have done mad, evil things.

I am no longer, the icon of beauty,

the icon of what perfect mistakes can be.

I am no longer, the loved, the hero, the dreamer.

I am just an Enemy.

I am target number one.

I am the devil from hell.

I am God’s Enemy; I don’t believe in him.

I am the Enemy, by choice.

I am her lasting Enemy.

I am their worst nightmare; I caused children’s tears.

I am the Enemy.

I am evil.

I am removed, forgotten, brushed away.

I am looked down upon, frowned upon, spit upon.

People turn their heads as they pass me.

People turn their heads as thoughts of me run through their mind

Part II.

I am the Enemy.

Because I was being me, instead of someone.

I am the Enemy.

Because I am not here tonight, but elsewhere.

I am the Enemy.

Because I have caused pain, for the sacrifice of my own.

I am the Enemy.

Because I am human.

I am the Enemy.

Everyone thinks I’m a fool.

I am the Enemy.

Everyone thinks I have no soul.

I am the Enemy.

Everyone thinks I’m made of filth.

I am the Enemy.

Everyone thinks I deserve blood.

I am the Enemy.

Because soundtracks to films did not spell out my life story.

I am the Enemy.

Because I did not swear the truths I didn’t believe in.

I am the Enemy.

Because my mind escaped every day.

I am the Enemy.

Because you made me the Enemy.

Enemy Number One.

01.12.06.03:48:02@296NYC

01.12.07.03:16:18@296NYC

David Harth 2001-11-15 David Harth 2001-11-15

Everything

I cut off my ear, I give it you

It’s for you, have my ear.

I cut off all my limbs, I give them to you

They are for you, have my limbs.

My art. It’s all yours. Everything.

I give it all to you.

My possessions. It’s all yours. Everything.

I give it all to you.

The last breath I contain. It’s yours. I give it to you.

I give you my last breath.

I give you my honor.

I give you my courage.

I give you everything I have.

I give you everything I will ever be.

I am the pain. Let me become the pain.

Let me become the eaten. The torn. The lost. The death.

I remove all my senses.

My lips. My tongue. My eyelids. My nostrils.

The touch, all removed.

My tears can only make you float.

Float to peace. It’s the only thing I can do.

I give you my last dance. I give you my last bouquet.

I give you the music I create. I give you the poetry in my heart.

I give you the entire world. The world in which I can only exist.

I give you my mind. I give you my soul. I give you my God.

I am the pain. Let me become the pain.

Let me become the fire. The scar. The nobody.

I give you everything. Everything that I have become.

Everything I fought for. Everything I dreamed up.

I give you everything I created. Everything I believed in.

Everything I stood for. Everything I loved.

I give you the silence. The storm. The twisted fingers in your hands.

I give you my two brains. I give you my truth. I give you my sadness.

I give you everything. Everything in this world.

but don’t leave me forgotten in this world...

01.11.15.04:33:00@296NYC

David Harth 2001-04-04 David Harth 2001-04-04

Empty Standard Gasoline

She woke up next me

The smell of gasoline was soaked into her ivory skin

She was soft and her voice was young

My Adam’s apple was split in half and I was speechless

I could feel a warm ooze between my legs

Half way down my shaft and halfway down my back

She smelled of dirt

Of wet sex

And dogs out in the city summer rain

She smelled wasted

Round and forgiven

And like last night’s butter

I couldn’t turn to look at her

But I knew her voice

I knew the texture of her long blonde hair

And the way her eyebrows curved around her eyes

I couldn’t remember what happened the night before

Or the morning after

I couldn’t remember who I made love to

And who I last fucked

The gasoline scent now taking over all my senses

Making my nose burn with pleasure

Making my hands tremble with guilt

Making my toes itch and my fingers frozen

Making my ears deaf and mouth dry

I remember her sitting up

Scratching my back and digging her nails into my skin

Reaching around and pinching my red nipples

Grabbing at my knees and pushing them towards my chest

Making me lay in the fetal position

As she scored and threw me about

The gasoline now mixing with my seed

I don’t know what I’ll do in emptiness

I don’t know what music to listen too

I don’t know what weapon to use

And I don’t know which direction to take

And I don’t know who left the door open

Or whose soiled panties are around my neck -

01.04.02.49:22:00 @ 296 NYC

01.04.03.19:41:00 @ 296 NYC

01.04.04.12:52:00 @ 296 NYC

David Harth 2001-03-14 David Harth 2001-03-14

Every Morning

I wake up every morning

and I ask myself

is life worth living

or should I kill myself?

I wake up most mornings

I ask myself

Is today’s life worth living?

Or should I kill myself?

I wake up in the morning

And I ask myself

Is life worth living?

Or should I kill myself?

01.03.11.12:00:00@Houston&Mercer NYC

01.03.14.03:21:00@296 NYC

David Harth 2000-03-01 David Harth 2000-03-01

Escape (Version #2)

For once in your life

I dare you to take my hand

And escape

For a little while

Take my hand

Let me show you a new horizon

Where the sun is always beautiful

And your brown eyes are always powerful

Escape into the sky

And into the sea

Into the family of willow trees

And lakeside walks

Escape where silence gives you energy

And talking makes your soul warm

Come with me where God is your friend

And no longer my enemy

Escape into the ark of passion

And discover the hidden secrets

Cry upon my shoulder

And find yourself within me

Escape with the blue river

And let the current take you for a ride

Let the embrace hold you

And the warmth penetrates you

Escape into the smiles that last

And always remember

I’ll be here

Until you tell me to go

00.02.01.00:00:00@NYC

00.03.01:00:00:00@NYC

David Harth 2000-02-29 David Harth 2000-02-29

Eight Thousand Dollars

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

I would have a limo

And a flat with a fireplace

I would have fruit on board the jet

And laugh at the fare in the air

I would pay for you all to visit me

And phone you when I’m in a coma

I would have wooden floors

And birch trees on the walls

I would treat you like flower gold

And enjoy the sunshine year-round

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

I would still deliver meals to the homebound

And collect records from rockstars

I would eat instant mashed potatoes

And continue my misspellings

I would fight for my own undelivered freedom

And always wish I was between your thighs

I would share the stars with you

And embrace our friendship forever

I would listen to frogs talking

And hear the gulf stream more often

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

I would have space for a motorcycle

And retro lights and tables

I would still ignore mother

And be closed to all of you

I would paint and write all the time

And have a bigger studio to do it in

I would be above Heartland

And see myself on the widescreen

I would meet face to face with rabbits

And have even more to lose

If I had Eight Thousand Dollars

00.02.28.17:28:20 @ 1515 nyc

00.02.29.17:35:38 @ 1515 nyc

David Harth 2000-02-16 David Harth 2000-02-16

Emergency Room

The room spins around you

Vertically and Horizontally

Get a tingle in the left portion of your brain

And numbness

And weakness

Down your entire left side

Down your neck and arm

Down your chest and thigh and leg

Throughout your bony structure and thin painted skin

And you wonder

Is the world rotating

Is this me and will I wake up myself

Again?

And you wonder

Will someone catch me

Or will I hit the floor?

And after doing money exchanges

And getting beverage for thirst and food for consumption

You veer left

Walking left

And prop yourself against the wall

Head toward the elevator

And wonder

Does anyone see this?

Successfully placing yourself on a lift

You arrive in style

Brain warm

And you wonder

Who to call first or what to do and how to shed a tear

For I know I’m still me today

But what about tomorrow?

And you wonder

Who will know

And who will not

Who will get to speak with me

And who will not?

And you wonder

Who will pay rent

And who will pay for food

Who will pay for this

And who for that?

As you take the twenty-one dollar cab ride home

Or your favorite spot by the little red light house

Just under the George Washington Bridge

Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center

You run across familiar architecture and a path you’ve always known

And you look up at the American Flag and remember the 12th

And you remember glass and tests and dots and pancakes and bananas and

sheets and pillows and laws and rules and black and white and tunnels and

peace symbols and doors with nails

And as you approach

And tell the story again

See a familiar face again

And a warm smile

You realize

It’s still you, just a change,

Not a choice, not a time, just a change

And all that’s in your head

Is a single thought

Of those who you cannot get out of your mind

As you sit there

In a New York City Hospital

You wonder why you cannot have a normal room

Or who is normal?

I sit in the GYN room full with stirrups and I act and joke and be me

Talk of more MRIs and Spinal Taps

Nothing new

Just had a CT scan and EKG, no Spect Scan or EEG or Angiogram this time

Take my blood, prick me, tickle me, stick me, and tell me I’m a mystery

Welcome on board

Now I can cry with the music I cannot hear

Mirrors can’t be seen

The windows are hidden

And those who you wish cared, did not

And those who are blind, remain blind

And you know the only thing you’ve got

Is the one person who is in your world

Yourself

Myself

And you know it’s not a dream

You aren’t even testing yourself

Images of the past come and go

And all you can do is smile

Because you know you are in medical history

But more importantly

You know it will be sunny the next day,

McDonalds French fries taste great,

movies rewind,

and someone is waiting for your return with a smile I’ll never forget

00.02.14.23:55:02 @ 296 NYC

00.02.16.01:45:13 @ 296 NYC

David Harth 1999-10-10 David Harth 1999-10-10

East to West

I was driving East to West

On Route 202 late Sunday evening

It was 10:30 at night

Cold and rainy out

With a warm settling fog

The fog was low

And covered the street

Crept over the trees hovering over

My pavement path

The ground slick with dew and drizzle

My fog lights did nothing

I would just drift the car down the road

Around the curves and bend

Forming to the fog’s tunnel

Then out of nowhere

And too late to stop

A man appeared in the middle of the road

A shadowed silhouette

From beneath the tree-covered road path

He stood still

I could not make out his eyes nor face

Too late to stop

I attempted to swerve

The car slipped and slid

Straight into the man

I hit

I waited around

For the police to arrive

I went back to the precinct

And talked and questioned

Sweated my palms into the wooden arm chair

Untied my laces and tied again

They knew the conditions

And saw the skid marks

Impounded the car

And photographed the thick scene

Wrote me up and wrote me down

Phone calls here and there

As the rain still sunk down

The police let me go

But I’m due back there later this month

What will I do

And what will I say?

The fog stood in the way

But no chance for him that night

Perhaps none for me

To hit again

99.10.10.23:15:00 @ NJ->NYC

David Harth 1999-09-18 David Harth 1999-09-18

Expensive Rolling

Hard headed

A toilet surface

Sweat thrown onto me

Like gravel and pebbles sticking to my back

Cold ears never hear what I have to say

Never listen

Only flood to the dimple in your chin

Wind of nakedness

Giving you my rights

Justice never served

You told me to phone you if it was illegal

I will see you Monday

Bald spitting head

Tough guy

In hospital shorts

Not right now?

I saw you on the cover of that magazine

No kidding

Surface & Wallpaper for Furniture

How is your girlfriend?

Good

Really?

Take off your leather pants

He wasn’t feeling well

Cereal wet-ones

A lawyer in a tie

I’ve broken my toe

Split ends

Now my eyes are open

Wont someone please help me?

They said he would be killed

Killer Mosquitos

Cab ride

And I breathe

I’m paying my bills now

Please leave me alone

Downtown

Freshness

Newspaper seeds and dirt

Leftover panties stained from last night

Unlocked keys and rubber bands

Full and complete

Sitars

Posted

Simon says

Chicken Geek

Circus Freak

Sugar Rush

Complete Blush

Pencil Stick

Lollipop Lick

Simon says

See you Jack

Out back

Forgotten

Squeezed

Brutal disease

Bag-piper

Bug in the mashed potatoes

Smothered

Drowned

Happy New Year

Happy Birth Day

Timing is perfect

Bob Dylan is on Bleecker Street

I’m not religious

Hash brown

Sausage

Eggs and Bacon strips

I’m huddled nude

In my fetal position

I lay still for minutes and minutes

You have punctured my life

You have not listened

Ouch

I’ll take a shower

99.09.18.08:22:37 @ 296

David Harth 1999-05-10 David Harth 1999-05-10

Escape

Taste the divine tears

Feel the thorns that grow inside

Sink your toes into the sand

Relax with lemonade as the sun sets on the bay

Play hide-and-seek with me

Frolic on the beach and between the palms

Jingle in the nude and be jolly in the moonlight

And the cascading shadows over the night ocean

Look at yourself in the mirror

Standing and looking and passionate

Do something different

Runaway and escape

Stay in your stillness

I’m painting your portrait

On my canvas and embracing your image

In my mind of lust

Kissing your navel

The ocean breeze travels across our bodies

Tracing your curves with a purple rose

To escape in the ocean of beauty

99.05.07.16:36:54 @ nyc usa (1515)

99.05.10.01:20:46 @ nyc usa (296)