O, 1996 - 00 David Harth O, 1996 - 00 David Harth

One Way Out

No one allowed in

Not even barbed wire fetishists

Or concrete expansions

 

No sexy blue-eyes from the West

Not even loving brothers of art

Or inspirational rebels of Sunday

 

No flexible IV drugs

Not even spinal taps, SPECT scans, and MRIs

Or doctors from Pennsylvania

 

No pop artists

Not even previous grocery baggers

Or today’s best interest

 

No women from the womb

Not even from authors of Mars

Or Vietnam writers and golden makers

 

No papas from hills and trees

Not even superb bombers

Or home-made cookie makers

 

No more salty tears

Not even a trace and scent

Or a remainder of my existence.

 

 

 

© 1999 David Greg Harth

99.03.29.01:19:00 @ FLT#116

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O, 1996 - 00 David Harth O, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Oma and Opa

Intrepid trips and the mountains of the concord

Lake George and my first home cooked meal after Neuro

Drawings saved and cherished memories explored

Hanukkah mensch and false teeth

Jump with sister and battle ships and swords

Cardboard oats cars and super 8 lighting

Family of black elephants and looking at the field

Squirrel parks and peanut feeding

Cupped hands and locked doors

Green carpets and curved couches

Rockefeller Christmas and Empire State

Hugs kisses and the warmth I’ve never had

Fresh Chocolate Chip cookies, sprinkles too

Pineapple chicken and first night dinners

Videotaping U2 as I grow

Hershey’s chocolate milk and canned pears

The beach box fighting man

Never forget the Ten Dollar story left on a park bench

Museums and matchbox cars

Parades and snoopy

Dip of a chair, relax and lean back

Corned Beef deli sandwiches and a car driver

Not telling them what to do

Large flushing toilets

Opera singers and little David upstairs playing

Finding places, meeting people, aging with beauty

Mints and M&Ms if I dress right

Proud and pride that come from the heart

Poetry and perspective

Corners have light and the sisters were shot

Holocaust avoided, conquered, escaped, effected, affected

Past the surgeries, the pace, the cancer, the hearts, the loss

Sewing buttons and holes galore

Stories told and always shared, some hidden

Photographs explored, taken, remembered

Two short ones, one time I once shorter

Unconditional love - If I am so dare to say

 

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.08.25.23:35:58@NJ

98.09.18.01:27:48@NJ

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O, 1996 - 00 David Harth O, 1996 - 00 David Harth

Ocean Space Is Where I Wait

Jesus or Moses

Seas and deserts

Among the rocks

Among the steam ships

Among the trains

And the radars that break barriers

Through the wires

Through the regions

We all bow

We all look up

Though even though I do not

Nor do he

I thank all that do for me

And those who do not

 

Among the bench

Among the ground

Among that mountainside

Among that cloud

We must reach it

That destination

Between that plain

Of imagination and destiny

Of fantasy and desire

Of truth and fiction

Of race and creed

Of sex and religion

Of death and life

Of morals and horror

 

Among the common ground

Among that sandbar

There is an ocean

Where we once belonged too

 

An ocean of colors

Of twinkles and currents

Of a surplus of stars

And spacious lives

An ocean of wonders

Of delicate beings

Of a generation undiscovered

And limitless time

 

Among that time

I will be there

Waiting for thy to come

Waiting for something real

I continue

I always wait

Until I die

Until I die

 

One day,

Many people will say,

“I wish it was me, and not him.”

 

 

 

 

© 1997 David Greg Harth

97.02.03.00:00:00@31USQWNYC

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