Boxes (Version #2)
These boxes
They had such a grip on me
These boxes
They owned my life
These boxes
They controlled me
These boxes
They prevented me
These boxes
They were in the way
These boxes
For
Love letters and
Greeting cards
Photographs
Drawings
and grandfather’s clothes
Boxes for
Packing Material and
Decorations
Keys, coins, postage stamps
and medications
Important papers
Tax documents
Receipts
Health records
and my living will
Boxes for
Discarded dreams
Lingering tasks
Hidden nightmares
and
Closures
These boxes
For
Misery
Moving
Memories
Momentos
Stifling
Stuffing
Selling
Shipping
Storage
Sorting
Boxes for
Undiscovered discoveries
These boxes
For
Toys
and
Vinyl records
And wishbones, human teeth, and specimens
and
Sketchbooks
Pencils
Pens
Inks
Paint
Crayons
Saw blades
Hair
Ashes
Bones
Boxes for
Enemies
Friends
Foes
Lovers
Heroes
and Protagonists
These boxes
Boxes to the grave
Boxes of life
Cardboard boxes
Controlling boxes
Owning boxes
Box ownership
Down with the vessel
Down with the sea
No more boxes
For you
and
me
© 2025 David Greg Harth
25.12.04.06.14.57@130BklynNYC
Bright Lights
Bright lights
On top of that mountain
On the streetlamps
On helmets in a cave
Sky diving out of planes
Searching high
And searching low
Coal mining
Diamond hunting
Eyebrow piercing
Tongue gauging
Light flickering
Switching off
And switching on
Insects drawn near
Rotating and spinning
Feeling the dizzy thirst
In the office
All morning
Day and night
Brain dripping
Protein leaking
Forever crashing
Column crushing
Chord cutting
Melody playing
Sleight of handing
Cereal crunching
Flame and Fire
Spark heart’s desire
Paused for the DEI hire
West Coast buyer
Injected light
Swallowed light
Light at night
Night light
Late night
Better not bite
I’m headed out
Better not shout
Crying in the light
At first light
Morning came and gone
Forever a song
Bright lights
In my throat
Can’t see and can’t hear
Can’t even swallow a salty tear
© 2025 David Greg Harth
25.11.11.10.34.00@345ParkNYC
Boxes
These boxes
They had such a grip on me
These boxes
They owned my life
These boxes
They controlled me
These boxes
They prevented me
These boxes
They were in the way
These boxes
For
Love letters and
Greeting cards
Misery
Moving
and
Memories
Stuffing
Selling
Shipping
Storage
Sorting
and
Toys
and
Vinyl records
And wishbones, human teeth, and specimens
And
Sketchbooks
Pencils
Pens
Inks
Paint
Crayons
Saw blades
Hair
Ashes
Bones
These boxes
Boxes to the grave
Boxes of life
Cardboard boxes
Controlling boxes
Owning boxes
Box ownership
Down with the vessel
Down with the sea
No more boxes
For you
and
me
© 2025 David Greg Harth
25.11.02.13.01.01@130BklynNYC
Black Dick
Black Dick
Black Dick
Where are you?
Back Dick
Black Dick
Where are you?
Black Dick
Black Dick
Where are you now?
Never had Black Dick
Never had on my leg a deer tick
Never said no to an invitation to The Frick
Never had Black Dick
Cause I don’t like Dick
Except for my Dick
Which is sorta like a Black Dick
But I’ve got a Big White Black Dick
So, take out your tongue and have a lick
Be prepared for a late-night kick
Up my sleeve, a stratosphere trick
So, take it down and slurp up my dip stick
Black Dick
My Big Black Dick
© 2025 David Greg Harth
25.09.23.14.43.00@345ParkNYC
Briefly
Brief
Moment
Witness
It was brief
It was just a moment
Almost timeless
It was the whisper of a witness
A long good-bye
A hand-held
Just last night
I spoke to her on the phone
We laughed, we made plans, we said our good night
The phone rang this morning
I’ve been summoned to the city morgue
© 2025 David Greg Harth
25.08.01.17.41.04@130BklynNYC
Black Skies
Secret whispers fell from the sky
Diluted in the puddles on the empty roads
Dreams rode the waves that crashed upon the shore
They broke apart as they smashed upon the jagged rocks
Ideas burning flesh from bones
Empty hearts filled with charcoal
Hatred breeding the glorious cowards
Now mothers of tomorrow’s generation
An avalanche of darkness covers meadows of delusion
Conquered barren skulls with not a moment’s last breath
Left over gods with no sermons or lectures
No spells, no tales, no disciples, no rōnin
No bee hive, no vessel, no fuselage, no urn
No power exchange, no bound wrists
No unseen ward, no conversation spoken
No mausoleum, no resurrection
No temptation, no river birth
Just the black skies
Which now cover this earth
© 2024 David Greg Harth
2024.07.31.17.28.00@130BklynNYC
The Beginning
I find it most difficult to start
But once you start, everything falls into place
Sorting things out
Organizing tasks
Repeating false memories
Playing a song for the morning swans
Inevitable fears cancelled
Enveloped cash memories
Planning estates
Meal preparation
Canceling the services
Coming to attention
Ocean waves crashing
Couldn’t compare
Couldn’t comprehend
Found something to eat
Complaints written down
Asked for a gun
Got sweet plantains
Asked for an extension
Got a wooden box
The most difficult part is starting
The hardest part is always the start
© 2024 David Greg Harth
2024.07.30.11.41.00@130BklynNYC
Broken/Fixed
Temptation of sorrow elevated me to great spans
It was the crusade that kept me afloat
Ferocious venom from my inner beast
See me thrash, and see me live
I marched on
Like an unclaimed warrior
Chivalry was my badge of honor
Midnight trysts were a common theme
Rich stories of being lost on the streets with ghosts
Often seen abandonment as the only option
Through the strongest tides pulling me
And the howling winds pushing me
It has been an exhaustive search
Twisted side arrived
Seated in the round with compassion
Repeating sparrow sung my symphonic song
In pride, I march down the witnesses’ aisle of disbelief
Letters penned, calls made, paintings painted
Hunting for a waltz in the city of music
Pierced through until the end
Swallow my limited time
Release the paired doves
Call out the sun and call out the moon
Announce the truth and close the books
The scorched chariot waits for the both of us
Her lips reeled me in
Her mind seized my heart
Her hips peeled back my senses
Her empathy captured my everything
I’ve been broken for over four decades
But now that she is with me
I am no longer broken
I am fixed
© 2018 David Greg Harth
18.07.10.13:35:50@1CTSQWLICNYC
Birds in Flight Die in the Night
// Razor sharp
// Hard edge
My finest suit for the occasion
Jacket on the hanger
Tie around my collar
Tightly around my neck
So stiff
I’ve been collecting the finest pads
Some favorite handmade books from Third Avenue
Never had a chance to put pencil to paper
Typed up words for the audience to read
Sleeves pushed up
I cut four inches
From the base of my wrist
Through my square
Forming a straight line upwards
Tomorrow’s papers
Buy a copy
For the world news
Infinitely a legend
On the 26th
Wish I had a sparrow
To sing me a song
On this very night
© 2016 David Greg Harth
16.12.21.21:52:00@130BklynNYC
Bypass the Abyss
I’ve had enough
No more neurological exams
and no more migraines
No more pretending
and no more smoke screens
No more eating donuts behind closed doors
and no more coke
No more uncontrollable masturbating
and no more meaningless sex
No more ignoring my plantar fascia
and no more procrastination
No more missing deadlines
and no more slacking
No more being fat
and no more being stagnant
No more hiding
and no more pointless watching
It’s time to avoid the cataclysmic
It’s time to deflect inevitable
It’s time to bypass the abyss
I’ve had enough of this
No more
I can’t do this any more
But its you that keeps me alive
Only you
And since I haven’t met you yet
I’ll endure this pain a little while longer
© 2013 David Greg Harth
13.06.30.24:55:00@130BklynNYC
Bee Hive
The wall has been broken
Even when you are no longer alive
Those three words never spoken
My heart is busy as a hive
I remember when we would first date
Each evening in bed we would spoon
No one believed that it was our fate
We would challenge the sun and moon
You left my arms so suddenly
Even after I shared the author’s quote
You left us all so abruptly
And died without leaving us a note
These sheets still smell of you
Wrapped gifts I can no longer give
This hive is not yet through
I must go on to live
Our son has the name you always approved
He has the color of your eyes and your charm
I tell him stories about you and he is clearly moved
It’s impossible to take my lock and disarm
Every time I see our son, I see your reflection
It was you who harpooned my heart
My love for you was the greatest infection
I was in it ever since the very start
You can never be replaced
Never forgotten or concealed
This busy bee hive is forever displaced
Without you I am never healed
I’m in agony that you left me alone and awake
Without poison or farewell letter
Only contagion you left me with was ache
I still have your un-given green sweater
My poem must come to an end
At the anniversary of your death
Your coffin and memory must now descend
Inside my bee hive I carry your last breath
© 2012 David Greg Harth
12.09.30.03:39:37@130BklynNYC
Be Still
Not even a whisper
Only silence
Not a rustle of grass
Not a pinch of salt
Not a crawl of a cricket
Remain quiet
In the distance
Don’t move
Don’t speak
Don’t breathe
From afar
Don’t observe
Don’t contemplate
Don’t learn to hate
Just keep the door ajar
I am quiet and I am silent
When this solitude is lifted
I will be exalted
Be still, and know that I am here
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.11.17.17:43:04@323NYC
Beginning (Version #2)
Sometimes
The wind sweeps
And creeps up behind you
Knocks you off your feet
So unexpectedly
You drift and float
Into the sky
With the ground no longer in your sight
You just glide
From cloud to cloud
Riding the breeze
At the journey’s beginning
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.10.21.11:00:16@130BklynNYC
Baltic Love
These sails of time are cast
I am the boat which leaves dock last
I’ve leaped across this sea
So, my truth could be with thee
You have the nautical chart
To the seascape of my heart
This struggling battle inside
Brings each new turning tide
Deep in the depths of you
Is the key to my eternal view
I was a vacant shattered hole
But you escorted me to your soul
Within me the endless patience resides
Forgetting these dreams of ritual suicides
My best friend is time
Falling in love with you was my colossal crime
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.04.29.10:56:00@VordingborgDenmark
The Beginning Until The End
Even in the beginning
Examiners knew the end was near
It was fate, and fate brought this upon me
There was no revolt
Or revolution
There was no review
Or recognition
Even in the middle
Enthusiasts knew the end was near
It was fate, and fate brought this upon me
There was no comprehension
Or calculation
There was no communism
Or cease
Even in the end
Evolution didn’t reverse
It was fate, and fate brought this early death
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.01.03.16:26:28@550MadisonNYC
Bridge Of Kings
I.
So tired, so lonely
So alone, so disheartened
So dead, before you died
Missing Oma
Dying without function
Dying with your son not talking to your granddaughter
Dying with your son not talking to your grandson
Dying without your brother, without your sister
Dying with nothing in hand, everything in heart
II.
I haven’t found my love
Before Oma’s death I wished
Before your death I wished more
Before burial of one more I wish heavenly so
You said your last goodbye
I held your hand as you held mine
Tomorrow I’ll say one last farewell
As I see you lowered to ascend
III.
At the gates
His Love welcomes him
The legend, The man
Who gave so much
I watch from a distance
As he crosses
The Bridge of Kings
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.09.09:40:15@130BklynNYC
BC2
I’m better off with a graphite stick
Behind my closed door
Beneath my wooden plank
Much better than before
Jesus Christ ruled and ruined my life
My gold is gone with spoiled sweat
And spent tears in my struggling strife
Roadside bombs
Light up the avenues at night
I told sister, I’m not going to moms
Holy monks on fire
Shafrazi, Solanas
Everyone I admire
Rachel’s object carefully kept
Burden you with a repeat
Three months in I quietly slept
I’m gay, I’m straight, I’m bi
Does it really matter to you
If I do or die?
Pull up alongside me
September spread in Vogue
Connective ladder is the key
Elevated to the likes of the common few
Hedge funders and President Emerita
Models and curators I can now screw
Lincoln crosses the street
Suicide inevitable
In Wyeth’s field of wheat
Dried without starch
Multiple mediums and now large
Recognition of nothing somethings
Let’s begin the charge!
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.09.10.19:57:00@CanalStQNYC
09.09.14.21:48:00@130BklynNYC
09.09.17.15:32:41@130BklynNYC
Bought & Sold
I’ve bought
And I’ve sold
I’ve purchased
And I’ve had an all-day sale
I’ve paid too much
And made too little
I’ve taken
And I’ve given
I’ve traded
And I’ve bartered
I’ve borrowed, stolen,
And donated
I’ve done even exchanges,
Profited and debited
I’ve made bids
And I’ve been auctioned
I’ve been made
And I’ve just paid
I’ve bought
And I’ve sold
© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.08.14.15:31:00@2550BronxNYC