I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

If I Asked

If I asked you to kill me, would you?

If I asked you to marry me, would you?

 

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.08.09.21:16:49@130BKLYN

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Always Hear People, But I Never See People

Hearing their language

Through mosquito weaves

Wicker beds

And falling paint

A cloud surrounds my existence

Damp, I listen once more

Electricity hum

Beyrouth Traffic

I don’t see them, I only hear them

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.08.31.12:31:39@AleyVillaLebanon

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Have Time Left For Love

Hidden nights

Agendas torn

Serial masturbator

I broke Picasso’s glass

Volleyed for serve

Competed for her love

Tell me to stop

My jealousy is a rage

Crowd my heart with your love

Touch my hand to your breast

Light my path

Turn right

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.06.17.21:38:32@296NYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

It Is Always A Good Time To Dance

No matter how many wolves bite at your neck

No matter how many roam and circle around you

Waiting to pounce, to penetrate

To take a shot, a stab, poke at your fleshy meat

 

No matter how many clouds turn dark

No matter how many suns don’t shine

No matter how many stars fall from the sky

 

The hunt is on

So, gather your weapons

Your spears, your axe

Prepare for the battle

Prepare for the judgement

Prepare for the wounded knee

 

For my sisters,

My brothers,

My mother and my father,

It is always a good time to dance

 

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.06.04.12:22:34@296NYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I’m Taking Off My Socks

I’m taking off my socks because I love fresh fruit.

It’s time to do some art, my toes are cooler now.

My back hurts and my nose is a bit stuffy,

but with the window open, I feel a slight breeze

between my little toes.

Because my socks are off.

Because I took off my socks.

And my socks are off.

Time for some fresh fruit...

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.05.26.22:41:00@296NYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Don’t Know In The Short Blood

Lessons, assignments, tests.

Exams, tutoring, studying.

Entrance, rejection, graduation.

 

Birth, life, death.

Sliding scale, weighing scale, colour scale.

Hidden, shoveled, exercised.

 

Re-run, re-heat, re-try.

Exit, depart, end.

Silence, quiet, whisper.

 

Tasted, dropped, stream.

Drink, lost, disappear.

Fail, flunk, despair.

 

Funeral said, rest done.

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.05.11.24:59:06@296NYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

Invitation

If I sent you an invitation

Would you come to my good-bye party?

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.02.09.10:45:55@296NYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

In The Middle Of Nowhere

Brought out on top of the hill,

beneath the same Oak tree.

The Oak tree just on the outskirts of Arcadia Hills

Near the windmill with the dog which always barked,

the dog with the long beard,

the grey goatee,

that haunted my dreams as a nightmare when I was a child.

The dog, a reality at the mill.

 

Brought there by nine men,

took me in an unmarked van painted a deep red,

windows tinted black, hubcaps rattled, the engine got louder with each gas.

They were rough, and they were buff.

They must have worked out too much

Or played the game.

They blindfolded me inside the dirty van,

perhaps rented, or recently abandoned.

 

Brought me sitting up to the hill,

tied for judgement.

One of the men,

he removed my blindfold, now soaked in sweat of fear.

With a strong strike,

he slapped my face.

I felt the cold blood trickle down my left cheek.

A mark left under my eye, must have been from his high school ring.

 

Brought me up to my knees,

they accused me of unthinkable acts.

Accused me of spreading the disease to their sister.

I explained, I claimed, unaware, not even here.

They didn’t listen, they only slapped once more,

as the Oak tree looked on in silence.

 

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.01.14.17:58:48@599BwayNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Locked The Door, Turned The Key

Leaving my apartment, quarter to nine.

I locked the door; I turned the key.

I thought of our time in Japan, we had no idea what time it was.

An American restaurant on a hill.

I have to call Matthew today, to see Charles Ray.

I love his music, different Charles, I’ll have a beer at twelve.

 

I fell out of love, and fall for the loved.

I went back to your place, you gave me a massage, you gave me head.

So, we went back down south, I went down on you.

These crowds invite me to participate, I’ve got a headache.

Thunder clouds roll in, garbage disposal disposed.

 

I wake from my sleep, I post the mail, I make eggs, I eat cookies.

Blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes,

They all make love to me.

Never forget.

I can’t recall. I can’t reflect. I have a birthmark; I have a defect.

 

Rewind, revisit, redo.

Leaving my apartment, quarter to nine.

I locked the door; I turned the key.

I thought of Tokyo.

The air so crisp, so right, my black jeans tonight.

The rabbit comes out, the brothers come out.

You’ll have noodles, I’ll have rice.

Fish on my plate, fish on my knee, better to spank your ass with a bucket of tea.

 

I went out to the mountain.

After the post office run.

You pointed incorrect directions for me.

I went over the bridge.

Like all the other written materials written before me.

And I am me and me is you and you are me and me is you.

I’m dead, because if I’m not dead, I jumped.

Jumped on the tracks, shocked you all, it’s how I’ll go, but remember.

Rewind.

Re-love. Replicate. Justify. Get high.

I know what I meant.

After all,

I’m an elephant.

And I locked the door, turned the key.

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.11.14.09:53:34@599NYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Can Fall For Green

Like a leap from a tall bridge

A tower over the city I nest

Diving beneath the coast’s shores

Borrowing deep into dark caves

I can so easily fall

For that green I adore

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.10.17.16:55:18@599BwayNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

Illustrating Love

Let me draw the ways,

That I love thee.

Haven’t I yet pointed out the dozens?

Multiple indications?

Hints?

Haven’t I wed your soul?

 

Let me show you,

I’ll bring out these diagrams and charts.

Presentations and reports.

I’ll bring out the scale

I’ll bring out the tape measure.

We’ll weigh my heart; we’ll measure my hugging span.

 

Haven’t I already told you?

Wrote you and spoke to you?

Written to you and whispered to you?

Haven’t I elevated my heart above the rest?

Haven’t I begged and wept enough?

 

My love for you

It’s an endearing illustration

Drawn only from my wanting ache

Don’t let the charcoal disappear.

Don’t let the brushes stiffen.

Don’t let the oils harden.

 

My love for you

It’s an everlasting wet appetite.

Constantly being drawn

Through this constellation journey,

This blossoming creation,

This blissful companionship,

We call love.

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.09.23.14:29:18@599BwayNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I May Have To Stick My Tongue Out In The Rain

Found you in the spring,

Just across the Rhine.

I got down on one knee,

And I proposed to dine.

 

It takes courage,

I must confess.

Started so young,

My profession is a mess.

 

Now I like pussy,

And I like cock.

Don’t let this be,

Your system’s shock.

 

The rain followed me,

Ten paces to Downing Street.

You signed, you hired,

I am complete.

 

Shattered and compelled,

Slipped it inside.

No one knows and no one owes,

You aren’t even my bride.

 

Stepped down tomb’s door,

Heard you behind Cape’s heart.

Take your teeth to my back,

Steal my heart, tear me apart.

 

I filled out the application,

Accept my audition.

I examined her daughter,

Her father is a mortician.

 

Let the popular die alone,

It’s a square mile I yearn.

Erect the immoral statue,

Deliver me in a wooden urn.

 

In you I shall confide,

You are my disloyal friend.

Last year’s worms,

They come and transcend.

 

Monogamous insects advance,

Single notes display affection.

Portray eighth decade’s horror.

I end in a hidden infection.

 

Last man’s plea,

My divine is the third.

Extract my love for you,

I speak my silent word.

 

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.08.07.18:03:05@599BwayNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Know About The Spot

I know where it is

I know what happens

I know where to touch

and I know how you quiver

 

I know it well

I know it like a map

I know it like a constellation

and I know it like a completed puzzle

 

I know about the spot

I know where it’s at

I know when to start

and I know when to finish

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.07.24.18:21:13@599BwayNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I See

It seems so current

Insignificant

I’m a risk

A hazard

 

Toxic for the heart

Turned away

Rejected

I’m left

Cold, frail, dying the last days

 

They don’t talk

Communicate

Or even share a smile

They haven’t spoken

I haven’t seen them

She’ll get wed, without him there

 

My underwear is soiled

I smell

Don’t get near me.

I bruise easily

I sleep constantly

Nazis separated my family

Haven’t seen my brother or sister

 

And now my great grandchildren

Have lost a grandfather

My son

He is dead, and he doesn’t even know it.

 

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.06.12.11:27:51@599BroadwayNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I Forgot About You

In this transparent world

Birds take flight into the amber sky

People try to follow their lead and their head

Their wings of wax and feathers disintegrate

They plummet to their early deaths

 

In this transparent world

Men light themselves on fire before the women

Reduced ash, skull bashed, broken, cracked

Summer ruins pile high in rivers of blood

They all wish to get wed upon midnight’s soil

 

In this transparent world

You would think she would realize what she had

Instead, she made him shrivel up and turn to yesterday’s leftovers

It was his heart, now served on a platter of gold and silver

Roses strewn about the path walked by his father before him

 

In this transparent world

Wild animals run among lost kingdoms

Kisses await and vows taken to the grave

She was all you wanted for a decade’s time

Until discovery led you to another woman’s heart

 

In this transparent world

Now she has your heart, and you’ve forgotten all else

Including her.

 

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.01.10.11:51:00@205HudsonNYC

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I, 2006 - 10 David Harth I, 2006 - 10 David Harth

I’m On Airport Time

Turned on the light,

You were hidden in the shadows

Underneath my sheets

Surprised me!

 

I rolled over

You weren’t there

If that’s the way it’s going to be

I left for the airport

Not a hint of your scent was on my collar

 

Its tearing me apart

Just tell me not to go

Just tell me you love me

 

I’m not good any more

My time is up

The chariot that I’ve arrived on is pulling me back

My train is departing

I’m late for the plane

And the plane is late for me.

 

© 2006 David Greg Harth

06.11.11.19:15:00@296NYC

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I, 2001 - 05 David Harth I, 2001 - 05 David Harth

Intrusion Thief

I like these blood-stained sheets.

Wrap myself in them.

Sleep in them nightly.

Surround myself with your scent.

Your smell and your stink.

 

My lips shiver and my stomach aches.

You stole my heart and went out west.

Leaving me behind in mountains of dirt.

Lying cold among your leftovers.

 

You have sinned and I have my pride.

Turned around and conquered my voices.

Ruling two towers due south.

There is no bank in my mind which you now capture.

 

Long gone and barely remembered.

Abandoned me one early morning.

Left me in the dark of not knowing.

Missing you like it was the last love on earth.

 

In the dimly lit room, you pulled me from my knees.

Brought me up and raised me erect.

Reached inside with a sword of a slayer.

Bore a hole in my heart, left undone.

 

I am the Father.

Forever lost, we will be one.

You have stolen seed embedded.

After asking for reception.

Never a redemption.

 

 

© 2004 David Greg Harth

04.11.12.03:39:42@296NYC

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