Grapefruit
I haven’t heard from you Grapefruit.
Where did you go?
I knew someone that fell in love with Grapefruit.
He was one of my very good friends.
Came home one day, found you sleeping in his bed.
Came home one day, found you left of the right.
Dear Grapefruit.
I miss you and I have yet to blink an eye.
The clock has yet to strike twelve.
It is a brave new world.
I’m off before you know it.
Give me a last goodbye, a last goodbye.
Grapefruit.
© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.05.25.24:42:52@296NYC
Gravity
You’re pulling me nearby,
I can’t let go.
I recognize how much I love,
But I cannot face the truth.
You’re overwhelming,
I must bow out.
I see how much you love me,
But I can’t be here for you.
You’re not letting me be myself,
By depersonalizing me.
I hear your voice calling my name,
But I refuse to hear the words you speak.
You’re not loving me,
Smothering me with your heart.
I hear the door lock,
The key falling to the floor.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.16.17:38:07@296NYC
Gold, Silver, Ruby, Shrubby, Bush, Powder, Sluts, Whores, and Me
Been there,
Did her.
Did that,
Did her.
Did her, did she, didn’t do her, did that, did this, around back, around front
did it, did it again
did do, do that, did the deed, planted my seed
forget that forgot that holiday inserted
advertise with me
lighted buildings
take me in your arms
make a stain on my bed
took out - out back
took your bottom, made a smack!
push pull - pull push
plump pimp stump smash sunk punk funk dunk
you’re in luck,
I’m ready to fuck
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.10.28.17:01:07@1515NYC
Goodbye (Version #4)
I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say goodbye.
I told you if you smothered me with your love,
that would push me away.
Further and further away I would travel.
Abandon the love we had and future we could have had.
You rushed me too much.
I couldn’t travel the pace you were at.
I’m sorry, but I must hide now.
I cannot take the pain that both of us would develop.
It’s already too painful.
You know my love for you exists.
I apologize that I have huge walls that border my emotions, my feelings, my mind.
I’m sorry for all of this.
Goodbye...
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.10.28.16:01:23 @ 1515 NYC
Golden Chevrolet
She took me for a ride
Brought me to her back seat
Of her golden Chevrolet
We made love in the hot humid summer air
The crickets spoke in the night
Moonlight shed its tears on our skin
Her car overlooked the city lights
Our sweat combined
I would slip my tongue around her stiff nipples
As she straddled my thick cock
With her arms up and hands on the ceiling
We would rock back and forth
As the rusty car creaked
And my ass stuck to the vinyl seat
My fingers in her hair
Pulling and tugging her closer to my body
So, we became one
My cock slides deep inside her wet velvet pussy lips
We would kiss each other with immense passion
Sharing our love and our intense heat
The summer air surrounds us and heightens our sensations
As the rhythm of our shared penetration ignites further
She took me for a ride
Brought me to her back seat
Of her golden Chevrolet
We made love in the hot humid summer air
The scent of summer heat invaded our senses
Our body odors of sex, lust, juice, and cum filled the air
Every time my cock entered, her pussy lips grasped my shaft
Together we moaned in the darkness
I felt her inner walls tighten around my cock
Pull me in closer and closer
Hungry for the thickness entering her walls
We made love all night in the summer heat
Over and over, we had orgasms
Sharing our love, our thoughts, our warmth
In the back seat of her golden Chevrolet
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.09.20.12:51:49@1515NYC
Goodbye (Version #3)
before we meet
before we eat
before we touch our feet
Goodbye
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.08.15.16:14:15@1515NYC
Goodbye (Version #2)
We kissed goodbye
She went one way
I went the other
I knew that was the last kiss I would give her.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.25.16:32:05@1515NYC
The Game Of Love
There are no rules
To the game of love
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.03.03.03:03:03@296 NYC
Green Alaska
I adore you, Green Alaska.
Your mountains, your beauty, your forests, your animals.
Your courage, your hidden talent, your devilish intentions, your dance.
I adore you, Green Alaska.
Your intense kindness, your happiness, your sounds, your silence.
Your belief, your children, your eyes, your drive
I adore the green shade of your skin
The coldness of your heart
And the ache that is found within
I adore you, Green Alaska.
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.08.15.22:00:20 @ 296 NYC
Geography Is Irrelevant To Sexual Ecstasy
I’m going to shoot it off
Be happy
Be a lover
Divide
Duck
Shoot
You make me want to be gay
A homosexual
A gay lover
A happy man
A happy face
You make me want to dance
Sweat
Shake the ground
Bite you
I’m going to dance
Give you a strip-tease
An art show toast
Create
Inspire
Revolt
You make me want to climb
A rockstar
A molded earth
A mountain
Higher
You make me want to smoke
Drink
Do the drugs
And feel my wet feet on concrete
You make me want to stutter
With rolling words
Of wisdom in the category of
Lions
Lust
Leave
Lonesome
Lie
Leap
Like
Learn
You make me
You turn me into an animal
Happy
So Happy
Happy Face
Bouncing around
Like a rainy-day masturbator
Happy
Now I’m cool
Cold
Feeling the cool breeze
No hot summer weather in my crotch
Tonight, I will sleep
Tonight, I will think of you
And Tomorrow
I will create art
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.07.20.03:12:27@296NYC
G & G
It’s like eating a banana
When you are done with it
You have a useless peel
Like a string I use for dental floss
Bitten and strapped
I’m going to be a professional Necrophiliac
Don’t you just love it!
She had a strap on
And took him by surprise from behind
Kissed around, been around
Out front back-yard big Kong
It’s like peanut butter
Gettin’ stuck down your sore throat
Thick skull
Don’t want to be
Like a silent lover
Tied down and knotted
Seeing the blind and hearing the deaf
Repair yourself a cafe
She had a dream
And took him by surprise in front
Kissed around, been around
Spring day on the lawn
And the other ego
Self
He says
It’s like stepping in a bag of shit
Because once you do,
You can never get that shit out between your toes!!
Smile, and I’ll always smile with you...
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.03.10.05:17:15 @ 296 NYC
00.03.11.13:07:23 @ 296 NYC
The Great Masturbator
This is a true story.
You have my word.
8:30pm March 1st 2000
I was standing on the uptown platform
At the Broadway/Lafayette subway station
Waiting for the B or D or Q train
I was at the very front of the platform
I was in front of the closed-off storage room that blocks the other passengers
From seeing me, and I seeing them
The same layout was across the tracks
At the platform for trains going downtown
Into Brooklyn
To my surprise
I was being watched by a man
He was a light-skinned African American
And his jeans were pulled slightly down
And he had his big dick out
He was masturbating
Jerking off his hard erect dick
As he looked at me
Fascinated
Disturbed
I couldn’t believe it
Personally, I’ve known women who have witnessed men masturbating to them
But this was reverse
Weird
The man had his dick out right there
In the open
And he was feverishly stroking his cock
Back and forth!
I just stood across on my platform
Staring at his eyes
Letting his imagination run wild
Maybe it was great
To have a guy jerk off to the image of me
To raise my ego
He thought I was sexy!
My B train came
And I didn’t see or hear
Him cum
But odd, As I got on that train
The stench smelled like cum!
Must be psychological
And that’s my story.
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.03.01.20:30:00@BWAY/LAFAYETTE NYC
00.03.02.10:55:00@CPMC NYC
00.03.02.16:16:00@1515 NYC
Green Shit
For 7 nights and 7 days
My shit was green
And green was my shit
I shit in my green
With green in my shit
An Irish green
In my ass shit
Shit in my green
Four leaf clover shit
Green shit
Shit
My lucky charm
And Leprechaun shit
I shit green
And green was my shit
For 7 nights and 7 days
I shit green shit
Shit was green
Like a fookin’ Irish green
Green was my shit
And shit was my green
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.12.31.00:41:00 @ Dublin Ireland
Give Up
I give up
I’m wasted
Exhausted
Extreme
I give up
There is nothing left
No sorrow or bare trees
No grounds to hunt on
No leftover space
Or corners to mold and form
I give up
Silently awakened
In the moist midnight air
Nobody to eat
And nobody to die
I give up
Stranger’s umbrella
A holocaust nickname
A king
I give up
Let me entertain you
And kiss you on the thigh
Let me swallow you
And kiss you on the cheek goodbye
I give up
It’s only natural
I’ve never seen it before
I’m tired today
Tomorrow is a new old day
I’m bringing in the welcome mat
I’m bringing in the traps
I give up
They wrapped me in gauze
And traveled me through time
Developed my horror
And fed my veins
I give up
It’s a back seat driver
And a live-in maid
A rainy holiday
Virgin flowers and settlements
By the brooks in the land
I give up
My eyes have bags
I’m a skeleton today
My ballad has gone home
I’m left with nothing in my hands
Your wet stringy hair clings to me
And my teeth still fall to the ground
I give up
My birds have died
The cash is done
I’m looking underneath the rabbit holes
And you left me starving
I give up
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.10.19.17:54:03@1515 NYC
99.10.22.01:08:23@296 NYC
Grey Hair (Orange Juice & Coffee)
We took the sour Orange Juice together
soaked in the wetness of health
and had a delightful toast
She massaged my back and that was that
Like dead animals living
flesh eating flesh
She quivered in her own cum
She used salt chalk for make up
Q-tips until her ears bled
brushed her teeth until gums bled
choked on her tears
He laughed and laughed with me
We ate sweet bananas together
And laughed at the fat laugher and the tall guy
That guy was really tall and skinny and always shook
He did the Thorazine shuffle
Wish I was in the Day.
She really knows how to burn a friendship
and scatter the ashes
across the plains of death
I wonder if she will tuck me in at night
Read me a bedtime story
Knowing I cannot respond
or remember her name?
I got dressed up in my tuxedo
We wined and dined and she did her usual grind
We had a ball, a grand all time
but it wasn’t her who I wanted
All these years
I wait and wait,
search and search
I see her reflection
her dirty ragged old hair
her aged skin with valleys of wrinkles
Liver spots and dead skin drifting to the floor
I comb her thick hair and hold her fragile hand
We talk for lasting hours into the night
I learn about her two sons and her daughter
The life she had in the vivid colors of greens and blues
Tomorrow a new day
it’s today
to see my friend, I dive the traffic
and I find her dead
Her silver hair
She gave me ten-dollar bill in my hands
I never said thankyou
It rained down
Oil upon my face
I go outside
Rub chalk on my face
and wash up
brush my teeth
and discover my feet under the covers
You know I did wrong
but I only sang the song I knew
and now my hair is grey.
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.08.25.24:08:13 @ 296 NYC
99.08.27.08:58:09 @ 296 NYC
The Gallery/The Artist
A gallery is there so a tree can get cut down to be made into pulp to be made into newspaper so a journalist can write a column on the gallery white-walled opening in the paper so mothers and fathers can read about the naked wine-drunk opening and so the artists can show work on the clean floor and eat dead birds and dish out secret service blow jobs for an ongoing dispute and so someone developed ink to print on and so children can be offended and old grandma will turn over in her grave and mothers won’t support and people get jealous and art wars raid your mind and so people can buy art to appreciate and or possibly just for the hell of it to make a buck we don’t know we only represent be ourselves do the art be the art conflict the art and so tourists have a place to go and view and so culture can see what we think and where we are going and what we will do in trench coats and postage stamps that say Kill All Artists while cardboard thieves line the streets of Broadway to Tampa tribune miles away and the gallery is there for us to meet greet and massage our lonesome feet and shave ourselves clean of the beauty we once knew and to listen to an arch of McDonalds frenzy and creme filled donuts and smokers cars and blue eyes and money and models and chicas and cock fights and luxury cars and hostess cupcakes or airline stewardesses and mighty mighty let’s go play baseball and hit and hit and hit pull the revolver up the bunny rabbit and the gallery didn’t notice those who didn’t laugh but the gallery is there for the artist for the self to be safe to feel like a groovy a musician a poet and parent a human a gatherer a co- you never know or do we with just make a simple phone call the gallery pays bills makes bills is a bill is a bitch is a boredom is a bore is a whore is a heap is deep is dough is divine is wrong is write is right and real and now and here to stay because we chose to go in to be artists to do what we do best and we took an oath to our heart to be all we can be without the army but in our brain our heart we are ourselves and we are artists.
We are artists.
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.05.04.20:03:48 @ 1515 NYC