Argue With The Donkey!
Don’t make excuses
Don’t tell lies
Just argue with the donkey!
Don’t put up
Don’t put out
Just argue with the donkey!
You may walk away
You may even compare
But,
You’ll have to argue with the donkey!
You may come back for more
You may even bleed or plead
But
You’ll have to argue with the donkey!
No arguing with me
Take it up with management
Just argue with the donkey!
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.11.06.16:36:12@205HudsonNYC
Anything
This poem was about to have no title.
As I write this, I don’t know what I’ll write.
I contemplate its format. Do I use proper punctuation?
I usually don’t. But perhaps today is different.
After all, anything can happen.
Just like -
Earlier today,
I stepped in a pile of shit.
You know what they say?
Later on,
A pigeon shit on my shoulder
It doesn’t matter what I say in this poem.
Or any poem. Because there is always a bottom line.
A usual theme.
You know what it is.
He knows, she knows, you all know.
That I love her.
But, according to recent realizations by a select few,
it has been determined that I, the author of this poem,
or is it a poem?, hasn’t met her yet.
But that doesn’t matter. Because I wrote this.
Anything can happen.
And it doesn’t matter.
Because no matter what anything is happening,
I still love you.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.10.18.14:13:44@205HudsonNYC
Ability
I have lost my ability
To reason & think
I cannot calculate my calculations
I have lost my ability
To cook & clean
I cannot even tie my shoe laces
I have lost my ability
To brush my teeth & comb my hair
I cannot even rinse with mouth wash
Because
I admit
I am consumed
With thoughts of you
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.09.01.08:30:00@296NYC
August Wind
I walk the streets
The warm breeze runs through my hair
Like your fingers
The lights are dim on the skyscrapers
People walk in chaotic serpentine paths
Avoiding pockets of heat
Water drips from the sky
As air conditioners empty out
Upon the sidewalk below
Circling towards my home
Contemplating, reflecting, thinking.
A smile widens my horizon
Her blue eyes are on my mind
The soft skin I yearn for
It’s the August Wind that brings her to me.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.08.02.11:49:44@205HudsonNYC
America (Version #2)
Eat Fresh
Have It Your Way
We’re Always Cooking
Do What Tastes Right
Think Outside The Bun
I’m Lovin’ It
What You Crave
America’s Drive-In
America’s Best Dressed Sandwich
Chicken Capital USA
Chicken On The Grill
Now That Your Tastes Have Grown Up!
Real Food. Real Choices.
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.03.21.02:01:05@296NYC
Agnes, From Poland
She was an angel from heaven.
God sent her down to this earth.
She made beautiful paintings.
Blind from birth with amazing green eyes.
Eyes I could stare into and get lost in.
Forever in Poland she stayed.
Forever in my heart she became.
Agnes, I’ll miss you.
Your green eyes adore you.
Let my blue eyes see you once more.
Let me love you from now on.
Agnes, I’ll miss you.
I’ve blinked so many times.
But you have not left.
The porcelain is clean.
The canvas is stretched.
The paint is applied.
Your green eyes can no longer hide.
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.12.21.02:06:57@296NYC
Afraid Again
Afraid to ask
Ask the waiter
What time is it?
Need to know the time
Will I be late?
One more round
Another time
Again in a knot
Again
It's happening again
My head
My head again
Uptown trains
Floor past eleven
Need to know the time
I am almost late
Better not be late
Don't want to be late
White in my back
Heated seat
One more wait
What time is it?
Afraid again
It's happening once more
I'll break through
Get out of this sleep
One more time
Ask the waiter
What time is it?
Again I'm here
Alone again
Afraid not
Wipe up the sweat
And carry the Lord
What time is it?
Again I ask
Check already
The time is now
Afraid Again
© 2004 David Greg Harth
2004.11.18.20:39:00@89ST3RDAVENYC
At age
At age 10 I was hairy.
At age 11 I was a hairy monster.
At age 12 I was dirty.
At age 13 I was a dirty pornographer.
At age 14 I was defeated.
At age 15 I was defeated with commitment.
At age 16 I was a dancer.
At age 17 I was a dancer influenced by Christ.
At age 18 I was drinking.
At age 19 I was drinking alone at the corner pub.
At age 20 I was very ill.
At age 21 I was very ill on my death bed dying mysteriously.
At age 22 I was sent away to a hospital for the strange with padded walls.
At age 23 I was sent away to a hospital while my teeth fell out of my mouth and on to the floor.
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.08.26.15:57:23@205HudsonNYC
04.10.07.02:58:04@296NYC
Almost A September 11th Day
Today is so beautiful out.
It’s almost a September 11th day,
but the sky is not blue enough.
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.08.23.11:58:00@MahwahNJ07430
Angel Reflection
I walked along prince street today
I passed by all the store windows
As I walked on by
I looked at the windows
I thought I saw a reflection
Following me, close behind me
I looked really closely
It was an angel with wings
A beauty in white
Following right behind me
It was you
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.07.15.02:41:46@296NYC
Alive
I am so alive.
Alive right now.
Because of you.
You’ve saved me.
Falling stars drop in my backyard.
In my midnight dream.
I am so alive.
Because I know you’ll be back.
You won’t ever disappear.
Existing in my heart forever.
Thank you for saving me.
Making me beat one more time.
I am so alive.
You make me feel so alive.
Real and happy and never with shallow dreams.
Today I am alive.
I’m not going anywhere.
Just chasing my dreams around here.
I am so alive.
I’ve never felt this way.
Thank you for your love.
I’ll see you in my mind.
When you save me once more.
I am so alive.
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.04.26.21:08:03@296NYC
Another Time, Another Place
I wish it were another time,
I wish it was a different place.
If we had met,
in a different world
at a different time.
If we had met,
earlier or later,
under different conditions,
who knows?
If the others would have been as noble as I was,
If the others would have returned and honored as I would,
If the others would have shared with you instead of being selfish,
If the others would have embraced you instead of discard you.
I wish it were another time,
I wish it was a different place.
Perhaps she will call again,
perhaps not.
Perhaps she will write me,
Perhaps not.
Another Time, Another Place,
She’s not here by my side,
no kissing
no conversation
no cuddling
no dinner
no dancing
no smiles
Another Time, Another Place,
I wish it were another time,
I wish it was a different place.
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.01.16.20:46:45@296NYC
Again
It’s happened once again.
Woke up this morning.
Wasn’t me today.
Someone else, beyond that mirror.
Stared at myself.
Looked deeply into my blue eyes.
Hypnotized by the various shades and hues of blues cascading out of my pupil.
Bursting like a miniature universe of loss and uncertainty.
Followed the pattern my eyebrows made over them.
Noticed how they guarded my crucial art eye from the outskirts of the public eye.
Looked at every pore of my skin, on my nose cheeks and chin.
Followed the lines of my lips; the top one thinner than the bottom.
Looked carefully at my facial hair.
The reds, the deep browns, the blacks.
I stood in front of the mirror staring.
Not knowing how long it would last.
When I would wake up, once again, me, instead of him.
Hurt. No. But I apologize, I must go sleep.
I’ll be back tomorrow, perhaps.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.24.23:57:18@296NYC
Art Slave
I’m pulled around, fucked with
I’m not driven around in black cars
I’m not escorted by the runway models
I’m not high enough or in demand
I’m not shoved from occupation to occupation
I’m not understood, I don’t look to be understood
I’m not accepted, I’m not supported
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.10.30.24:44:00@296NYC
Armpit Love
moldy
armpits
are
not
worth
tasting
today
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.08.05.15:57:55@1515NYC
Amusement Ride
Is this some kind of fuckin amusement ride?
Are we here for fuckin entertainment?
I’ve written about this before,
and I feel like I must write again,
because it bothers me so incredibly much.
Why can’t people walk down the down escalator?
Why do they feel compelled to stand still and ride down the down escalator?
Are they really that fuckin lazy?
Do they really have to block me?
I don’t understand.
Before escalators there were stairs, and they had to walk.
Now they are too fuckin lazy to fuckin walk one flight of stairs?
It’s not a fuckin theme park!
There are no fuckin tropical birds to look at or corn fields to admire.
It’s a fuckin god damn escalator!
Fuckin walk down the fuckin thing!
This is driving me nuts!
Something has to be done about this!
Someone must stop the insanity!
Jesus!
I think I’m going to start pushing people down the escalator
then eventually just rid them from this planet.
Fuckin murder these stupid fuckers who can’t fuckin walk down the fuckin god damn fuckin down escalator!
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.08.02.11:32:49@1515NYC
Addiction
I’m addicted.
I’m addicted to a nameless woman.
A woman with no name.
I’m addicted.
An addict to her passion, her desire, her lust.
Her sensual curves. her bed pleasures.
Her sweaty sex and stimulated clitoris.
I’m incredibly addicted to her.
Ignited from within.
I burn, burn, burn.
I’m addicted.
I admit.
I’m addicted to a love slave.
I’m in love,
I’ll tell you once, and sell you the idea later.
Since you’ve been gone.
I’m back on my feet.
Never left, this state of grace.
Holy ground didn’t escape from beneath my feet.
I’m still close as ever, addicted.
Because I still lick my lips, as I look for you.
I’m addicted.
I’m addicted to a nameless woman.
A woman with no name.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.05.17:42:00@1515NYC