Franklin Delano
Oh, Franklin Delano
How I love you
I see you on these streets every day
Hot humid New York City days
You walk pass me on my left and right
Sometimes directly in front of me, in white
Franklin Delano
Catch you on the subway
Franklin Delano
Catch you up the escalator
Franklin Delano
Catch you in the lift
I see you walking with pride
Determination is set in
Ignoring placed advertisements
Passing by the wet tongues
Franklin Delano
Electrifying
Franklin Delano
Glorious
Franklin Delano
Mysterious
Franklin Delano
Suggested
Franklin Delano
Sculpted
Franklin Delano
Luggage
I see you traveling these warm seas
Follow you through the streets
Route back passed the fire
Communication none, today, after one hundred grand
Franklin Delano
I love you
Franklin Delano
Kiss me
Franklin Delano
I’m soaked in your shadow
Franklin Delano
I’m heated skin
I see you swallow the moisture from your parted lips
Think about the way to snort the high life
Listen to the plants in your pockets
And phone me up on the telephone, please
I see you loving the imagery
Not significantly sharing the wealth of ivory
Keeping it for that home unit air conditioner
In this City heat
Franklin Delano
Give me the rope, and I’ll forget
Franklin Delano
Give me a hand, and I’ll grasp
Franklin Delano
Guide me in, and I’ll be back
Franklin Delano
Guide me, and Ill set you free
Franklin Delano
I love you
Franklin Delano
Let’s go dance
Franklin Delano
Live with me
Franklin Delano
See you tomorrow
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.27.15:41:48@1515NYC
02.06.29.03:01:11@296NYC
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
The Ultimate Crime Of The Century
Amazingly,
somehow, in some way
I got away with it.
I committed the ultimate sin
A most heinous crime
The ultimate crime of the century.
So horrible
So bad
So disgusting
So inhumane
And I got away with it
Mentions of burnt human carcass
dismembered human remains
misplaced joints
and scattered teeth
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.25.17:23:39@296NYC
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
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
Love (Version #14)
It hurts so much
to not be in love.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.21.19:03:36@1515NYC
Moving Realism
Moving through the streets, the land, over the surface of the ocean
Hunting and being hunted by hungry cowards
Searching for the everlasting, making way to the far east
Moving quickly, smoothly, treading the dirt and the sea
Dancing and escaping to other worlds
Leaping from salt pillar to salt pillar
Moving beneath the fever and the diseases of humankind
Beyond the point of no return
Thirsting for the greatest quest knowledgeable
Moving in a forward direction, stimulated by the strength within
Waiting for nothing but to arrive at the established point of dreams
Letting the fantasy become truth as the others look on in awe
Moving to the kingdom to become crowned and loved
Look beyond the obstacles of today and attack the wounds
Be with the One while I grasp my tool of horse hair and wood
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.13.17:50:34@1515NYC
I Can’t Fall In Love With You
I can’t fall in love with you
because if I did,
It would be too painful.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.13.14:56:23@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
Hidden Thought
Say Something
Give me a sign
Say what you are hiding
Reveal your secrets.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.06.22:00:00@NYC
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
Don’t F With Me
Don’t Fuck With Me!
Don’t say you are going to phone, and don’t.
Don’t say you promise, and you don’t come through.
Don’t say you’ll dance with me, and you don’t!
Don’t fuckin fuck with me!
Don’t Fuck With Me!
Don’t say one thing, and do the direct opposite.
Don’t say you’ll visit me, and you don’t.
Don’t say you’ll attend the exhibit, and you don’t show up.
Don’t say you’ll cook dinner, and you don’t.
Don’t say you’ll be in New York, and you don’t come.
Don’t fuckin fuck with me!
Don’t tell me lies.
Don’t tell me you went off the pill.
Don’t tell me you won’t see me anymore.
Don’t tell me you got wed behind my back.
Don’t tell me you are a man.
Don’t tell me your mother wants you back home at eight.
Don’t tell me you left for the coast.
Don’t tell me that your lover is back in your life.
Don’t fuckin F with me.
Don’t fuckin lie.
Don’t fuckin be bitch.
A coward.
A slut fuck.
Don’t bend over and kiss the witness goodbye.
Don’t F with me!
Don’t fuckin penetrate my mind for one instant, then leave.
Don’t fuckin take the cheap fix.
Don’t be faceless in my life.
Don’t fuckin play the bass and leave the stage.
Don’t fuckin back out now.
Don’t Fuck with Me!
Don’t Fuckin F with me....
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.05.17:33:02@1515NYC
Escaping Thoughts
Every day, since I was little, I had a crush on you.
The only problem is that I’ve never met you.
I thought I met you a dozen times, and perhaps I did,
but you grew and changed form before I could adapt.
Every day, I think I’ll meet you. But when I think maybe
that I have met you, turns out you are involved already,
or you are married, or you don’t live in my city. Or you
are not intelligent enough or you are too up tight sexually
or you hate the music which I enjoy.
Every day, with hope at my side, I search for you, or wait
for you. I go back and forth with the execution of the
procedure. (back and forth, back and forth) Eventually,
possibly, I’ll meet you. But, I haven’t met you yet. Or maybe
I did, and you are right there in front of me? I really don’t know.
Every day, I think that you reside in New York City, or a few
other places, like Korea, London and Cuba. Love is in Cuba,
my dream is in Korea, I love the English accent, and in my
city of New York, you have a cowboy hat on. One day, perhaps.
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.05.12:37:31@16515NYC
EMO
Dear Ladies,
This past weekend I took a class in EMO. A two day course taught by two doctors that are married to each other. They are experts in sensuality and sexuality with ongoing courses in New York and California. They also have their own book out. I learned a lot this weekend. One thing I learned, is that I myself, have had the right ideas about sensuality and sexuality all along. But I also learned a lot which I did not know, and learned on how I can improve in the areas in which I lack. By improving in these areas, that will make my relationships with my lovers and partners even better. At this point, you may be reading and wondering what EMO stands for. I’d be delighted to tell you. EMO stands for Extended Massive Orgasm. Basically, the course taught me how to stimulate a woman with hand to genital contact and the possibility of giving her an EMO. In fact, part of the course was the husband and wife doctor team demonstrating. I witnessed the wife have an hour long Orgasm. Our problem as a general society is that we define an orgasm as cumming or ejaculating. But that is not the focus of the course. A person can indeed be in an orgasmic state, for as long as they want, if you (yourself, or your partner) has the right touch. I won’t go on much longer, but, I did learn the technique by attending the demo workshop and hands on workshop. I’ve also been reading the book too. So, ladies, I’m here. I’m available. And, I need to practice what I have learned. (Ha ha, but I really did go to this course.)
Yours truly,
David Greg Harth
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.06.02.23:00:00@296NYC
I Could Only
If I could only be with one person
just one person
in this entire world
From Scotland to India
From Argentina to The United States
From Germany to Cuba
If I could only be with just one person
That one person would be you
And only you
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.05.29.16:20:07@1515nyc
Intimate Monthly Gathering (Version #1)
I invite you all over to my home
for breakfast and tea
just after sundown
we’ll sit around the fire
and have our standard intimate monthly gathering
if you know what I mean, if you know what I mean.
We’ll have a field day among ourselves
Conduct traditional heat
Let our bodies ride the train
And become fluent in languages unspoken
Wake up friends
It’s time to come home
Come for my Intimate Monthly Gathering
I won’t let you leave without a loving hug
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.05.28.17:14:36@1515NYC
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