Spit, Blood, Fire (New Year’s Day 03)
Fire did not come
Snow Rabbit did not arrive
Cat ran off
Other cat has been called
We saw a rockstar
Bought chewing gum on Prince Street
Had my smoked chicken
On Mott Street
No gangs here
Just outside
But a beauty of blonde
Writing creatives just under my bills
A toast at home
Shirt removal too
Went to ten and one
Visited the lesbians
Left rather quickly
Brisk walk
Did not go
Lounge around back
For One Twenty Five
Turn round the corner
What do you see?
Tom & Jerry’s and a big T.V.
She thought he was hot
He ate her arm
She hugged he and he and her and her and even me
She felt her ass
We all bought drinks
I asked for a better hug
She gave her pussy to her Three Thousand Dollar Ass
Laughter shared
But no B. here
Fun times round
Minnesota, Wisconsin, run into the ground
The beautiful librarian kissed
Smacked in the nose
The blood dripped down
Fifty Dollar shirt, now blood stained memory
Fire on the corner
Put out the fire
Saved a life
Saved a life
On New Year’s Day
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.01.01.10:27:06@296NYC
sniper
sniper, we don’t want you here no more
you have no speech to share with us
your bullets are nothing but the NRA’s whore
sniper, ya better duck
cause I’m coming to town
to kill you, ya dumb-ass-fuck
sniper, be gone before dawn
or you will be put to rest
below the cemetery lawn
sniper, show your face
let the public eat you alive
you are a human disgrace
sniper, don’t put the children in the grave
they are not the enemy,
all of us will remain brave
sniper, leave immediately,
go back to your hell hole
if you must kill, then kill me
sniper, go away
wickedly,
you look like me today
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.10.23.17:49:29@1515NYC
Stranger (Version #2)
Keeping my eyes out of view
I hoped our hearts would connect
Interlocking in the wind from the West
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.10.18.17:22:00@296NYC
Sick
I’m sick
Sick once again
Don’t talk to me, I don’t want to be heard
Don’t look at me, I don’t want to be seen
Wish all you wish
Pray all you want too
I know the light will turn back on
One evening
I don’t taste the tastes
Or comprehend the conversations
I don’t understand televisions
Or smell your perfume
I don’t feel the temperature change
Or feel like myself today
I’m sick
One more time
Don’t come near me, I’m not me
Don’t write me, I’m not able to read
Can’t draw like me today,
My drawings come from my second brain today
It’s not a wet dream today
It’s not happening again to me today
It just happened last night
Three hours, Two Weeks, One Month, Four Months
Been there, done that
It’s just about time
It’s going to happen again
Don’t cry for me
Just understand
A coma is just a little break
And I’m about due
To go deep inside
Fall asleep
Wake up in a few years
I’ll be back
Don’t you worry,
I’ll be back
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.09.17.12:44:09@1515NYC
September Rain (Version #3)
Wise men told me
Family warned me
Friends ignored me
Lovers scorned me
But on this September day
In the cold wet rain
I’ve learned and witnessed
Something so true
Even for a brief moment in the journey of eternity
That something so powerful
That something so real
Does exist
In this September Rain
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.09.16.17:55:35@1515NYC
September Rain (Version #2)
Wise men told me
Family warned me
Friends ignored me
Lovers abandoned me
But on this September day
In the cold wet rain
I’ve learned and witnessed
Something so true
Even for a brief moment in the journey of eternity
That something so powerful
That something so real
Does exist
In this September Rain
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.09.16.17:55:35@1515NYC
September Rain
I didn’t fall asleep until very late
Got up early before sunrise
Didn’t see the light coming in
It was overcast today, cloudy and dark
It’s been raining all day
Listened to the score of the September Rain
Couldn’t believe you remembered my name
Found out your eyes tell stories
And woke up in the fetal position
Nude, outside on the street
Alone, in the cold wet rain.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.09.16.17:25:25 @ 1515 NYC
Sister, Sister
Sister, Oh, Sister, Sister.
Won’t you pick up the phone anymore?
I’ve called you over and over again?
Called out your name, I needed you to listen..
You shut me out.
In time of my need.
I’m a crying man and you didn’t listen.
You weren’t there for me.
Oh, Sister, Sister.
Singing your gospel
Spreading your love around town.
Oh, Sister, Sister
The storm is over
Pick up the phone,
And call my name at home
Listen to my cries
Feel my pain
I’m out of the ward today
No more green glass buildings for me.
No higher mounted American flags for me.
Oh, Sister, Sister.
Let’s gather around the musician at center
Share our love, hold hands, embrace one another with hugs of joy
Let’s sit on this sand and among these peoples
Share our eats and drinks
Oh, Sister, Sister
Listen to me
No need to runaway
I’m here for you,
And when you are here for me,
I am eternally grateful
Because
You are my Sister, Sister,
My gospel lover
My chanting lover
My baby’s mother
Oh, Sister, Sister
Oh, Sister, Sister
Don’t let me shed those tears
Don’t let me travel to the tropics
Don’t let me become what I have most feared
Oh, Sister, Sister,
Won’t you pick up the phone now?
It’s me ringing on the other end.
Please pick up,
Oh, Sister, Sister.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.08.15.15:44:26@1515NYC
September 11th 2001 (Version #2)
I remember:
In the months September and October
constantly turning a corner on the streets of New York City
and running into a funeral procession of bagpipers and fire trucks
draped in black. Seeing firefighters salute one of their own, draped
in the American flag. Even before I would turn that corner, the
bagpipes would echo a haunting reminder through the corridors of
the tall buildings and city streets. The beat of the drum, the tone
of the bagpipe, the rhythm of the march; all a reminder.
I would glance up to the sky and wonder. My wonderment would only
be interrupted by a constant pair of F-15s circling the skyline.
You would hear the swift screech and shrill as they passed the bitten city.
I remember September 11th. I could not communicate with anyone via
the telephones or cell phones. Every try ended with all circuits busy or the constant busy signal. Whether calling in Manhattan or Brooklyn, or upstate New York, Long Island or New Jersey. Florida or Virginia or any other state. You couldn’t get through. I found that email was the best way to communicate.
Every 6 hours I would make sure I was at my studio to change the VHS tape in my VCR. I recorded the news stations from 9am Tuesday September 11th continuous for one week straight. I continued my archive of the video footage throughout the month of September and to the announcement of the WAR and following certain developing stories. I’m currently on tape #35 I believe.
I remember on September 11th. I saw the mass exodus of people walking North. As soon as I stepped out of my studio, I saw peopled covered in debris on Elizabeth St, hugging and walking together North. I was headed to St. Vincent’s hospital to donate blood. I offered them a sincere hug.
I was taking the A train home from Columbia Presbyterian Hospital at 168th st (the last stop I attempted to donate blood at.) It was now late afternoon and some subways were running some routes. The mood on the train was eerie. All of the passengers had a unique look on their face. And all were talking of the earlier events in the day.
I remember on September 11th. Feeling helpless. I knew my family and friends wanted to make sure I was alive and well. Yet, at the same time, I’m sure they knew I was. Not because I didn’t work in or near the World Trade Center; but because they know me to be a strong survivor. I felt helpless though. I would have given my life for anyone of those that perished. Anyone. But all I could do was watch the rescue efforts and help in any way I can.
I remember.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.13.22:37:41@296NYC
02.06.27.01:27:09@296NYC
Someplace
I know someplace
beyond the moon, the stars, this sky
beyond the lonely greens and blues
you are there waiting for me
with open arms of love
I just wish I knew where that place was
or how to get there
but still, like my eyes,
it remains a mystery
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.25.11:12:16@1515NYC
Ship
Ship
Split
side side
one, two, three
not, yes, yes, not
on the list, off the list
Ship
don’t know you,
don’t know me
Ship
annoying
not supportive
not understanding
blind to my structure, by build, my internal strength
Ship
bend
curve
lies lies lies
smut
dirty talk
Ship
silent wasted
watching
never thinking
bystander
Ship
ears closed, not listening to me
unspeakable
truths, unheard, told, yet not true
Ship
recalculated, rethought, prioritized
checked off
one two three, on, one two three
Ship
new one here new one there
not any more
elevated success
sign the document
die for the love
sail with
soar with
share with
learn with
that wonderful Ship.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.13.11:41:13 @ 1515 NYC
Swiftly
I’ve had my best friend for years.
Ever since grade school back in Orange County, NY.
My best friend is Harry.
This was written before Harry completed my needed act.
I knew it was time.
I phone up Harry to let him know.
Later that evening we met at the agreed upon location.
And, with a swift swing of the blade, Harry cut off my head.
I thank Harry greatly for assisting me in my suicide.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.05.24.15:53:16@1515NYC
On a beautiful sunny day in new york city
Stop The Clash
They said
I’m not going to stop
Feel your pulse
Make you sleep at night
Purchase Milk at the market
Night after night
1, 2, 3, love is gone
1, 2, 3, open the door; kick it in
1, 2, 3, ohhhh ohhhh, kick it in, kick it in
They said
I’m not from here anymore
You left me thicker than before
Can’t find the door knob tonight
And they sung,
1, 2, 3, love is real
1, 2, 3, flung open the door; kitchen chair knocked on the floor
1, 2, 3, hardwood hardcore
They said
Filthy I was
Dirty I was
Told me to visit politician aliens and government officials
I said “No dogs please, just show me the door”
And they said..
1, 2, 3, Find the score
1, 2, 3, Hope to see them more
1, 2, 3, see you in love
They said
I was over now
Nothing famous, nothing worn
Said I was disappearing
Was a nightmare at sight
Broke out and
1, 2, 3 Midnight tonight
1, 2, 3 Gotta forget about that, right
1, 2, 3 Bang! Bum! Hit my scum!
1, 2, 3 Hooray! What a hum!
1, 2, 3 Right side - left side - bedside
1, 2, 3, See you at the bar
1, 2, 3 Gotta fuck the bar tonight
1, 2, 3 Gonna make it right
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.04.17.17:38:46@1515NYC
She Said
I loved her mysterious brown eyes
I loved her beautiful brown hair
I loved her soft skin against mine
I loved her as she kissed my mouth
I loved her hair against my chest
I loved her lips exploring my navel
I loved her nipples perking through
I loved her tight ass
I loved her smooth legs
I loved her arms around mine
I loved her music she created in bed
I loved her going down on me
I loved her scent surrounding my neck
I loved her toes touching mine
I loved her fingers running through my hair
I loved her wrapping around me
I loved her sweating in the night with me
I loved her midnight tease
I loved her in the evening
I loved her in the day
I loved her today, and yesterday
As I crawled down beneath the sheets
Slowly towards her inner thigh
About to stick my tongue and twirl
Taste her warmness, her wetness, her insides, her sweetness,
She said “I am sorry”
As I approached nearer with my tongue
My eyes wide open
I saw she had a cock, and she was a he, and not my she ...
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.20.02:43:44@296NYC
Song of Bangladesh
I am Bangladesh!,
I am the power of the sky!
I am Bangladesh!,
I am the power of the sky!
I am Bangladesh!,
I am the power of the sky!
(*) repeat versus until
you are fully pulled
between intersections
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.13:00:00:00@StPetersburgFL
Silent Moment, Silent Fantasy
It was for only one moment.
I caught your eye for that single moment.
The rush filled my veins.
My heart quickly pumped my body full of my warm blood.
It was for only a short while.
A paused moment in time.
Silent.
It was wonderful. Beautiful. Like nothing I have ever experienced.
Ever witnessed. Ever felt. Ever thought of.
It was beyond belief.
It was a single moment in time.
Beyond the most intimate fantasies.
Beyond the most intimate connections.
For one silent moment in time.
You caught my eye.
Our eyes connected.
We held each other for eternity.
Like a single flame in the fire.
Intense.
Nobody saw the moment.
Just you and I.
Experienced in its silent epic.
A story untold to thousands, unreal.
A silent moment, a silent fantasy.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.10.02:03:41@296NYC
September 11th 2001
It’s a beautiful day
Sunny. Warm. Not a cloud in the sky.
Peaceful. A day that all should get wed on.
A day that all should play ball on. A day that all
should be on a swing set. A day that all should picnic on.
A day that all should take a winding walk on.
Now there is one cloud in the sky. A huge tremendous wrong cloud.
A black cloud over Manhattan attacking Brooklyn from West to East.
A flowing evil cloud with Financial Paper debris. With lifeless thoughts
and burnt dreams. With the smell of body parts of falling lovers.
Today is a national holiday. I’ll have off work next year. What will I do?
It’s a beautiful day. My world is gone. My children live in a new world today.
Everything is different. Milk and bread, no longer. Milk and bread, is the new.
Watch your back, and watch your friend.
Watch your enemy, and watch your friend.
Watch your front, and watch your friend.
It’s so sunny and warm out. I’m mad. I’m angry.
I’m furious. I’m intense. I’m not walking backwards.
I’m moving. I’m coming. I’m leading.
It was a beautiful day, today.
I’ll never forget it. Won’t forget it.
I’ll have America in me every day.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.09.11.15:00:00@296NYC