Hidden Thought
Say Something
Give me a sign
Say what you are hiding
Reveal your secrets.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.06.22:00:00@NYC
Hijacked Love
She stole my love away
She hijacked it from my heart
She cried when I cried
She laughed when I laughed
Her body quivered when I made love to her
Her lips softened when I kissed her
She promised me something divine
She promised me something real
Her eyes spoke to me as I gazed
Her ears listened as I whispered
She dreamed when I was alive in her arms
She breathed deeply when I hugged
She stole my love away
She hijacked it from my heart
She embraced me in the evening
She woke up next to me in the morning light
Her soft skin was always next to mine
Her curves surrounding my innocence
She was music to my heart
She was everything peaceful
Her thoughts were shared with mine
Her energy flowed through me
She was only a memory
She was only a short fantasy
© 2002 David Greg Harth
01.11.12.00:00:00@296NYC
01.12.12.00:00:00@296NYC
02.01.12:00:00:00@296NYC
02.02.12:00:00:00@296NYC
Happiness is a warm gun
I think I’ll shove one up your ass.
I think I’ll guide one between your legs.
I think I’ll trace your contour with the barrel
I think I’ll plow through the feathers of the down with this steel rod
I think I’ll blast through the night on your bed sheets
I think I’ll enter your soul and make you forget
I think I’ll shoot up tonight
I think I’ll penetrate your mind all night
I think I’ll take this gun and poke you in the back
I think I’ll make you stick it up high
I think I’ll turn you around and make you warm
I think I’ll stare in your eyes and make you cold
I think I’ll slowly make you brace it
I think I’ll quickly make you suck it
I think I’ll show you how to use it
I think I’ll show you how to honor it
I think I’ll make you stroke its weight
I think I’ll make you groan louder at point
I think I’ll deliver it gently
I think I’ll never let it explode again
I think I’ll wish I had it inside
I think I’ll wish I never died
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.01.31.18:49:57@296NYC
Hairy Man
You are big and husky
Huge
A man’s man
Hairy man.
Fuckin brilliant.
Tremendous
Overwhelming
Incomprehensible
A wonderful machine
Pressed
Clean & Fuckin dirty
You are a huge giant
Your fingers are bigger than my palm
Your tongue is bigger than my femur
Your hair is scratchy then the velcro on my shoe
You are a beast
A monkey
A fuckin ape
A gigantic tarantula
Your tears make the Great Lakes miniature
Your shit is bigger then all the Buffalo roaming
Your ideas should be printed on currency
You are unspeakable
You are obsession
You get in my fuckin way
You freeze when in the line of duty
You crawl up a woman’s sleeve
You die alone and you’re left with nothing
You’re fuckin huge
A brilliant warrior
Hairy fucker
A tower of thickness
Lust and Bullshit
Obsession
You are broken
A fuckin pane of glass
A fuckin vile of blood
A mason jar of fat
A pool of urine
A photograph of puberty
A leftover dinner
A piece of shit
You are on top
Positioned yourself on top of the highest point
The farthest destination
The lonelist place on earth
The coldest
The most sacred
Dusty, Grey, Smelly, Dirty, Fuckin place in the world
You are a man's man.
And you mean nothing to me
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.07.03.17:08:00@1515NYC
Hot & Sticky
After fucking, we took a shower, rinsed off the cum from her legs and her lower back. Rubbed her shoulders and washed her hair. Had a scavenger hunt between her thighs and cupped her breasts. Hot & Sticky.
Riding the A train home, it was 95 degrees and extremely hot. Sweat bubbled up on top your skin and all you could do was bake in the oven. I got out and walked up the steps behind a young woman with olive skin wearing a thin white skirt. I could see her tight G-String right through the fabric. Hot & Sticky.
At the park I watched the dogs chase each other. Each time they made a pass; I got pelted by small little stones. Each hitting me with a snap. The dogs would run around in circles, chasing nothing, chasing each other, and greeting each other. They would run right up to each other’s asses and sniff. Some dogs would even mount other dogs and begin humping. Hot & Sticky.
Walking on Grand Street on this hot summer day, I pass tons of fish. Smell fish, octopuses and eel. Headless, or finless, perhaps even brainless. Pig parts, pig heads, pig feet, pig ears and pig insides. All displayed for the little China man to eat. I didn’t have any chopsticks handy so I just dug my hands in deep, into the bucket of ice and felt around. Didn’t find that electric eel, didn’t know it was alive in the case to the right. Hot & Sticky.
In SoHo there is a gallery on Wooster Street. I’m sure you know it. I went there for an opening and what did I see? Some new art to be examined. At the opening I met this woman with brunette hair. She told me to get down on one knee and be a delight to her navel. Oh, what a sight! I got down on one knee, and with a twirl of a tongue, I’m back at her place eating her Cinnamon Bun! Hot & Sticky.
I went to the marketplace and had drinks with my friend. He brought along his new girlfriend from Detroit. Although he never told me that she was so slutty, so dirty and married with two kids. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, I’ve seen him suck and I’ve seen him probe. But it was still stuck in her hole, so I excused myself and they left for pork. Hot & Sticky.
On a faraway planet, let’s say, Baby Jupiter. That’s where I met her. My beautiful girlfriend. She served me up and I met her out back. She was wearing a turquoise shirt that day. Tight and blue. Cyan. Even horrifying! I got her out back, on that July summer day. I bent her over that barrel and slapped her ass! Slapped it so hard, she drenched my fist. Hot & Sticky.
Sitting alone, resting upon my sheets, on my bed. I hear the couple above me fucking. Making loud noises and shifting the bed over and over again. I heard the scratching of her fingernails into his back. I heard the moans of his early cum. And I heard the cries shortly after. I realized masturbating was not a crime, so I stroked my cock and listened once more. Hot & Sticky.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.28.17:15:31@1515NYC
Hero
You are my hero.
You have inspired me
To live
To create
To love
You are my hero.
You have taught me
To standup
To fightback
To rebel
You are my hero.
You have shown me
The world
The light
The god
You are my hero.
You have imbedded taste in me
For art
For lust
For truth
You are my hero.
You have listened
When I was crying
When I was damaged
When I was not even yours
You are my hero.
You have met my inspiration
You have met my followers
You have met my lovers
You are my hero.
You have enlightened me
To teach peace
To teach trust
To teach kindness
You are my hero.
You have brought gifts to me
Ones I will open daily
Ones I will cherish forever
Ones I will share with my children
You are my hero.
You have cried
You have laughed
You have died
You will always be my hero.
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.11.12.01:41:36 @ 296 NYC
How To Touch A Naked Man
Remember that there is more to me
Beyond my eyes and lips
Touch my navel and the side of my chest
Travel around with
Your tongue
And warm hand
Remember my ear
The delicate and intricate curves
Remember my neck
The slender curve and pulse
Remember that there is more to me
Beyond just what lies next to you
Run your fingers through my hair
Squeeze and stroke
Push and pull
Whisper and hug
Never be afraid
Remember my hands
Grip them and hold them
Remember my lips
Kiss them and taste them
Remember that there is more to me
Beyond just an erection
Embrace my warmth next to you
Feel my arms and legs wrap around you
Try the new
And I’ll let you know what feels good
With my shivers
My tongue
My voice
My whispers
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.04.07.02:48:41 @ 296 NYC
Heaven Sadness
The overwhelming sadness
The emptiness
Hollow
Inside
The depths collapse
And tears become crucial
Fingers can’t even type
Thoughts can’t even transpire
The sadness is strong and soft
And spoken with silent words
And the whispers of the glare in your eye
All I can do is say “Hello”
Crawl up
Feel the sadness
Penetrate my heart with fools
And attempt to be brave
Wrap myself up
In a pretend womb
And cry and cry and cry
Until I become nothing
And I tell people
Sometimes I wish I would get sick
And I introduce to people
Sometimes I wish I was my Oma
Dying and blaming and falling apart
Sometimes I wish I was my Grandmother
Dead and six feet under
Because there is no comparable pain
To the pain of the ache
And the sadness, the emptiness, the nothingness
You feel after you travel through heaven
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.03.11.12:29:04 @ 296 NYC
Hate Me
Don’t hate me because
I said I would end all famine
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would make love to you last night
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would go to battle
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would kiss you
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would introduce myself
And did not
Don’t hate me because
I said I would not lie
And I did
Don’t hate me because
I said I would not get sick again
And I did
Don’t hate me because
I said I would not reach out or open
And I did
Hate me because
I do not know who you are
or what you want
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.16.12:00:00@AVA
00.01.19.01:00:00@NYC
How Long?
How Long
Will you whisper those sweet words into my ears?
How Long
Will you tease me with your seductive moves?
How Long
Will you be present in my life today?
How Long
Will it be until you accept my invitation?
How Long
Will it be until you say yes and smell the flowers?
How Long
Will it be until you drink the ice-water beside your bed?
How Long
Will you keep your smiles in my mind?
How Long
Will you send romantic signals to my heart?
How Long
Will you shy away from the feelings you feel?
How Long
Will you wait for the moment to rise?
How Long
Will you wait for me to be gone?
How Long
Will you wait for a fantasy to become a reality?
How Long
Until you put away rules and become an Artful Heart?
How Long
Until you share the holidays with me?
How Long
Until you roll with me on the divine bed?
How Long
Will you sing in my footsteps?
How Long
Will you flaunt your cheer and beauty in front of me?
How Long
Will you fall until you let me catch you?
How Long?
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.11.23.01:58:31@296NYC
99.12.09.24:52:39@296NYC
He is Witnessitis
He painted his fingers
He will wait for the sheep to come to him
He likes the smell of fresh baked bread
He wishes to dine with her at that silver place
He rides a bike
He conquers cities
He owns a gun that he does not wish to use
He dies every day
He is in heat
He strays from the junkies and thieves
He hears people tell him that he is a manipulator
He walks the streets full of subconscious persons
He is not prestige enough
He must take photographs
He is gay, he is an artist, he writes poetry, he must be gay
He lasts with a golden flower
He paid his dues
He has no best friend
He drives a Porsche
He develops his own drugs
He is an angel
He has curiosity that kills him on corners
He has not been mugged
He crosses the street in front of speeding cars
He cleans up his city
He is full of noise and quietness
He will beat the living shit out of you if you fuck up
He would die for a friend or any other being
He loves to read
He eats language for breakfast
He was the one that started the fire
He can take the blame
He smelt death
He bashed his head on four nails on a locked door to say peace nightly
He danced to the punk scene for inspiration
He has a heavy lord
He melts like burnt buffalo
He is new year’s special
He laughed at serious love
He created a symphony with blood and semen
He was taught
He left suddenly and unexpectedly
He never gave the tape to each one
He chained her down
He floated
He became your memory
He carved the orange tree
He thought of a new ism in his itis
He is an important witness
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.05.18:02:09:49@296NYC
Hit Man
Kind of like book ends and access to lifeforms unknown by human kind.
It’s unexplained, left unemptied, shot at, and eaten to a terrible pulp.
And it could be like round, scrumptious firm breasts, or can we say tits?, that
are quite wonderfully squeezable to the touch. And they didn’t know that wild
animals were in the zoo, but I knew, I knew you far even better than you knew
yourself. Shark! Shark! Driving down 9th ave and 17th st for a boner I’ve
never met.
Do some research, babe, and have a ciggie, on me, captain jack!
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.02.08.17:42:20@NYC
Him
Because you cry when you sing
And pour sweat down the guitar which you play
Because you hug and miss those who share
And sing with gloria in the flames of my eye
Because you understand and I compare Vox to you
And not you to Vox
Because you sculpt angels in front of us all
And back home in your own cathedral
Because you connect and share the joy
And possess a talent that exceeds most
Because passion is a name you know
And a policy you follow
Because you buy food for the homeless
And have patience for Jack Daniel’s and holy water
Because you bring all up on stage
And do not conform with society’s limits
Because your friends and wife have stood by
And you have keen interests in your followers
Because you bow down to those who you love
And respect yourself the same amount
Because from Nyack to New York City I knew you
And the glare in your eye highlights the crowd you draw
Because you have climbed with us
And not on top of us
Because you have held our hands together
And made peace in my heart; and theirs, nightly
Because you save many from the streets of sorrow
And committed to the journey of desire
Because you are not ashamed to change
And try the new
Because you kneel
And not charge
Because you appreciate and welcome
And stare down at the bullets of evil
Because you are who you are
And we thank you for sharing your beauty
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.01.24.24.00:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
99.01.24.06.00:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
99.01.25.24.44:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
99.02.04.02.33:00 @ Rock N’ Roll Cafe & 296 NYC
Heart
My heart is a vacant lot
Pocketed full of spare change
That jingles with the rhythm of the coming wind
My heart is a glass sculpture
Blown proudly and delicately
It falls to the ground
With great smashing tunes
That pierce the ears of children
My heart crashes to the floor
And beats aloud
Dead on the floor
Without the warmth it needs
I’m broken and dead
Like structures under Burroughs’ apple
And I stand in Lennon’s rye
I’m among where the flowers have gone
And my heart goes on until the last parade has past
My heart wraps around thorn bushes
And punctures itself
With the poetry and art, I create
For others to see
And attempt to understand
I go on living
And feeling
But as the students observed
His chambers were hollow
For he never knew it
My heart is the autumn smell
Of falling red and brown leaves
To the floor they hold and blanket
The smell of wet rain
And damp leaves
They cover the pavement and land
The earthworms dig in
And underneath
But deep below the surface
Who knew
About the well of tossed coins
And possible prison cells?
You can yell sweet thoughts
And hear them echo in my heart
They haunt me at night
Like a reflection pool
My heart is an ongoing event
It changes daily
Influences from weather
People and places
My heart is the shaded tree
In the great amazon
That doesn’t get light and grow
But protects the soil and helps the crawlers
My heart beats now
Even when I question why it does
My heart pounds every second
To keep me going
And take care of all the others
My heart is not broken
For every morning
I re-assemble its pieces
And attack the world again
Heartful
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.07.29.03:00:00@NYCNJ
Home
Home is where you think
Home is where you choose
Home is where you live
Home is
Over here
And over there
Home is mine
And yours
Home is his, hers, and theirs
Home is below and beyond
Above and inside
Home is music and art
Home is sex and poetry
Home is my lover and my partner
Home is my family and friends
Home is where children are beaten
And kids go home to kill themselves
Home is where wives get beaten and raped
And men get drunk and snort
Home is a junkie’s palace and whore’s nightmare
Home is a July bath and pilgrimage
Home is a safety slut and music concourse
Home is a rotten body in hell
And a governor’s secret
Home is a religious sacrifice
And a family reunion
Home is a place for self-esteem escapees
And starving rabies
Home is America and Antarctica
Home is Singapore and London
Belfast and Chile
Home is butterflies and flowers
Daisies and valleys
Home is tunes and currents
And fellowship wings
Home is brothers and sisters
And kind thoughts progressing
Home is a coffin
And cemetery
Home is a church and temple
A revenge and jungle
Home is my control
And your lost feeling
Home is a devil’s prophet
And a ruler’s gold
Home is a bunker and a blanket
A sailor and a buddy
Home is a doll and car truck
A river of scum
Flowing down earthling drains
Home is a toilet
Constantly being flushed
Home is the de-fucked earth
Swallowed up in corporate problems
Spilled oil
And burnt forests
Hard-to-breathe air folk
And jet engine silence
Home is Nuclear war
And racist handshakes
Home is color bled dyes
And revolution wars
Home is sweet
And to be shared
Home is ours
And will forever be there
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.05.25.00:00:00@NYC
The Hit
So anyway, I was going down Grand Central Parkway, right. Right, and I see this guy, right, on the side of the road. And he’s just like standing there. In all this traffic, right, and I see him, on the side. So, I stop by him, right. He was a hitchhiker. So, right, I picked him up. So, we continue driving, right, down the parkway, right. I’m headed for the Triborough bridge, right. To go up north to the New England states, right. With the hitchhiker. And we continue, right, and the hitchhiker then warns me. Right, he says to me, “There are people up ahead, on the right shoulder, their car is broken down.” Right, okay. So, I’m warned, and then the hitchhiker said to me, “Why don’t you hit them?” So, still on Grand Central Parkway, right, heading towards Triborough bridge, I continue. And then, right, as I approach the people. I hit them all, right, just like them being dominoes, right.
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.05.04.17:18:12@NYC
hey what’s up?
the sky
the elevator
the bird
the crane
the building
the cloud
the sign
the erection
the statue
the kite
the balloon
the life
the angel
the melon
the thought
the higher one
the jumper
the plane
the dream
the desire
the picture
the frame
the sun
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.04.01.01:00:00@31USQWNYC
Hug
Jesus Christ
a superstar
He parted those seas
red of blood
Moses, my hero
The army men
shot down
The cross
burn him bad
I love that beach
where you have been
sitting in the sun
no religion too
it’s easy if you try
so, try it
you’ll like it
art is fun
for you and me
put me aside
at your side
feel the warmth
the image
your eyes
mystery
woman of the night
penetrate my mind
invade thy thought
come inside
the darkness is yours tonight
your eyes
mystery is your middle name
sea of rust
sea of dust
take me now
to that peaceful place
full of butterflies
and blue jay birds
full of dandelions
and sunflowers too
take me to that beach
where you lay upon
show me the way
to your heart
maybe I’ll discover
what i never believed in
maybe I’ll discover
turn on the light
after the night
turn on the light
after the shag
light up a ciggie
take a glass
of water tonight
sleep
sleep tonight
sleep without me...
sleep with me...
cuddle in my arms....
waiting..........
a hug is yours...
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.02.26.00:00:00@31USQWNYC