In The Shade
In the shade,
creeping up in the shadows,
out of the darkness,
he pounces on his prey.
Tears at her flesh
and eats her alive.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.09.12.12:05:54@296NYC
Silence
And on that day,
Clear September day,
Not a sound,
Not even a swirl of wind.
No motion,
No movement.
Nothing brought,
Nothing forgotten.
Simple reminders,
Every day.
Together,
Survivors of history.
Challenged by today,
Survivors of strength.
Too many,
We may bleed.
Remember then,
The passing is not forgotten,
But only remains,
A constant quiet,
A silence.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.09.11.23:52:26@296NYC
September 11th 2003
Lovers Lost
Lovers,
going among the dance floor
finding themselves
lost among each other
Lovers,
attempting to find a match
before the night comes to a close
not after the last flight out
Lovers,
following the sparkling lights
and moonrise above the mountain tops
a mile above sea
Lovers,
finishing their last cocktail
smoking their last fag
dancing their last step
Lovers,
searching each other’s eyes
trying to find that moment’s connection
to put the day’s events behind
Lovers,
reminding themselves that today is their future
while tomorrow life goes on
and yesterday was only a memory
Lovers,
lost on this dance floor in which we break
this dance floor which we make
this dance floor which we hate
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.09.05.02:14:33@296NYC
Numb
Numb from the blindness
Numb from the taste
Numb from what she left behind
Numb in my throat
Numb in my mind
Numb in my cancer
Numb without spit
Numb without love
Numb without regret
Numb with thought
Numb with ease
Numb with wonderment
Numb through the valley of darkness
Numb through the parted waters by staff
Numb through the sky of limits
Numb on the ark of forage
Numb on the sea of waiting
Numb on the land of growth
Numb feeling in my memory
Numb feeling in my overloaded senses
Numb feeling in my wet tongue
Numb from sealing envelopes of the fourteenth
Numb from stroking the tired
Numb from thinking aloud
Numb waiting for she
Numb waiting for the hunger to end
Numb waiting for the completion
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.26.03:50:47@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
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
Left In The Dark
You left me.
Without saying a word,
you left.
After the evening,
the shared passion,
the lust.
You walked up and left me.
Now I lie here,
alone,
invisible,
with open hands,
left in the dark.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.16.01:11:11@296NYC
Spoiled Contents Of A Blackout Refrigerator
1 Half Gallon (1.89L) of Elmhurst Dairy 100% Fat Free Milk
(Pasteurized Vitamin A&D Skim Milk with No Hormones Added and No Antibiotics)
(Expiration Date of August 21st 2003)
1/6 of a jar 46OZ (2lbs 14oz)(1.30kg) of Mott’s Natural Apple Sauce
(Unsweetened & No Preservatives)
1/3 of a container of Papetti Foods Better’n Eggs Healthier Real Egg Product
(Fat Free & Cholesterol Free) 16oz, 1lb 454g
pasteurized for safety Oct 17 2003
1 full container of Papetti Foods Better’n Eggs Healthier Real Egg Product
(Fat Free & Cholesterol Free) 16oz, 1lb 454g
pasteurized for safety Oct 17 2003
1/2 of a bottle of House of Tsang Bangkok Padang Peanut Sauce 11.5oz 326g
1/2 of a bottle of ReaLemon Lemon Juice From Concentrate Natural Strength 15floz 443ml
2/3 of a bottle of San-J Reduced Sodium Tamari Natural Soy Sauce 10floz 296ml
9/10 of a jar of Hellmann’s Just 2 Good! Reduced Fat Mayonnaise Dressing
32floz 1qt .95L sept 13, 2003
11 slices of Kraft Fat Free singles Sharp Cheddar artificially flavored
nonfat pasteurized process cheese product
16 singles package 3/4 oz each
12oz net wt 340g
4/5 of tub of Hotel Bar salted whipped butter 8oz 227g Oct82003
1/2 of tub of Kraft Philadelphia Fat Free Cream Cheese 12oz 340g March 21 2003
1/2 jar of Spice World Ground Ginger 4oz 113g
19/20 of bottle of Heinz Tomato Ketchup 24oz 1lb8oz 680g
1/3 bottle of Hershey’s Lite Syrup Genuine Chocolate Flavor
18.5oz 1lb2.5oz 524g
8/10 bottle of Crystal Louisiana’s Pure Hot Sauce 12floz 335ml
2nd bottle, also 8/10 of bottle of Crystal Louisiana’s Pure Hot Sauce 12floz 335ml
8/10 of jar of Super Associated Strawberry Fancy Pure Preserves NetWt 18oz 1lb2oz 510g
8/10 of jar of Heinz Sweet Relish 10floz 296ml
6/10 of bottle of French’s Classic Yellow Mustard with the stay clean cap 8oz 226g
26 grape tomatoes Bald Eagle Farm; Jersey Sweet Grape Tomatoes 1 U.S. dry pint, 551ml
1/2 bottle of 4C All Natural 100% imported Parmesan grated cheese No preservatives net wt 6oz 170g
1 1/4 medium sized cucumber
2 medium sized Sunkist Valencia Oranges
1 small lime
Selected Green Giant Fresh Carrots net wt 1lb 453g with 7 carrots remaining
small bundle of mint in a zip loc bag dated 7-26-03 (Freezer)
2 uncooked turkey burgers in an undated zip loc bag (Freezer)
1 bag super A green peas 20oz 1lb4oz 567g (Freezer)
Mrs. Smith’s Bake It Fresh Sweet Potato (pie) net wt 2lb5oz 1.05kg (Freezer)
YVES Veggie Cuisine The Good Dog (Freezer)
lowfat juicy and authentic tasting meatless 11oz 312g
4 dogs of package of 6 12 aug 03
12 small containers containing medium for Harthritis (Freezer)
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.14.16:11:00 @ 296NYC
03.08.15.21:03:00 @ 296NYC
No Love
No,
not here.
No love to give
Penetrated mind.
I’m locked forever.
I’m boarded up.
Forever bound,
never, will I ever,
let you in
and inside.
No Love
to receive,
or accept
I’m not here anymore.
Nothing can be done.
No love
No honor
Swept away
left you,
not on your feet.
I’m solid
Rock.
Chained and sealed.
Dagger through my heart
Hurt so much,
forgot your name
from city to city
Search, an end.
No love,
today.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.14.12:03:22@296NYC
Jordan
It’s beyond amazing.
Beyond beautiful.
Beyond wonderful.
Beyond all of the great words and terms and feelings,
I could describe using words from the dictionary.
The feeling is pure love.
Love like I have never felt.
Love that I have never experienced.
Love that I never knew existed.
When I sit Indian-Style,
you approach me with book in hand,
make your little grunt for me to read that book to you,
and you plop yourself in my lap.
Your back against mine.
You fit your tiny body on my lap.
Your little shirt,
your little shorts,
your little socks,
your little shoes.
You carry the smell of baby with you.
Your curly hair and big baby green eyes.
You sit in my lap and listen to me read to you.
You are a genius, pointing to the fire engine, the horse and the kittens.
This overwhelming feeling.
I had to write about it.
It’s so hard to express.
So, beyond anything I could possibly write.
But that feeling of love.
That overwhelming feeling of when you’re in my lap.
Knowing I will protect you from ocean to ocean.
World to world, barrier to barrier, land to land.
Knowing that you are more precious than gold and diamonds.
It’s beyond amazing.
Beyond beautiful.
Beyond wonderful.
Again, that overwhelming feeling of when you’re in my lap.
You are the definition of love.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.12.04:13:32@296NYC
Johnny, Bring Me The Gun
Johnny,
I’m calling your name.
Come down the stairs,
Washing the damp walls.
Scurry about,
Collect the papers,
Find the holes
And patch them up.
Patch them up.
Johnny,
Come down the stairs.
Scale and climb,
Run your fingers against the wooden grain.
It’s time to go.
Time to go.
Feel your way down,
Pass the pigeon-blood red walls,
And step down the carpeted stairs.
I’m waiting for you here.
Come quickly,
No time to waste today.
Johnny,
Come as swiftly as you can.
I left the silk work upstairs.
Safe keeping is the best way to keep.
It’s raining, don’t keep me waiting too long.
We’re about to get wet, soaked,
I felt this before, leaking.
Inside, it’s time to run,
Past the deep ochre hallways.
We really must go.
Johnny,
Bring me the gun,
We’re not fooling anyone here.
Let’s hurry up and go.
It’s raining outside.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.08.06.05:17:53 @ 296 NYC
The Tiger Dance
And so, she whispered
Hinted with her eyes
Took the approach
Danced the dance
Came in nearer
Not nearly enough
A wicked dance
Penetrating through
Roaring, Growling
Coming through
Seeing through
Dancing with the sway
She closed her eyes
Dreamed of the passion
Hidden desires lie within
Pleasure opens one’s soul
She danced the dance
The tiger that she was
Roared all night
Echoed in my mind
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.07.31.03:16:10@296NYC
Your Voice
Your voice is near,
so far away.
At the other end,
just saying “hey.”
A message heard,
a message left.
A heart is here,
without a theft.
A soothing tone,
beautiful reminder.
Silent keeper,
I think I won’t forget her.
That’s my tale
of your whisper.
Hear it again,
Come in closer.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.07.15.14:09:56@296NYC
I didn’t get to
I didn’t get to say that I was sorry.
I didn’t get to tell you that I love you.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.07.13.15:19:51@296NYC
Seven Ten
It’s seven to ten.
You’re still not here.
It’s just about time.
But you are nowhere to be found.
It’s seven to ten.
I’m here and you are not.
Around the earth, I’ve searched.
Nothing came up, nothing came down.
It’s seven to ten.
I’ve held on forever.
Looked and waited.
Nothing yet, nothing here.
It’s seven to ten.
Where are you?
Just another day gone by.
Sunrise and sunset, alone.
It’s seven to ten.
We are about to begin.
No one here but me and my dreams.
Back door closed; poetry written.
It’s seven to ten.
Whisper in my ear.
Sweet thoughts.
I know you are near.
It’s seven to ten.
No one is knocking at the door.
Not even you, nor she.
I’m about to get up and leave.
It’s seven to ten.
Heaven is here.
I’ve looked back now.
I did not see.
It’s seven to ten.
Kiss me there.
It’s seven to ten.
Kiss me here.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.07.10.02:21:03@296NYC
Beauty (Version #2)
Wanting you
Is the last thing
I’ll be happy to remember
Before my death arrives
Tomorrow
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.07.06.19:55:55@296NYC
Constant Wanting
Looking.
Seeking.
Waiting.
To my right, no, not there.
To my left, no, not there.
The most beautiful woman in the world.
Where?
At the grocery store.
On the subway.
Riding the bus.
At the gallery.
Walking on the sidewalk.
In the museum.
Where?
Right next to me.
Daily.
In my heart.
Looking.
Seeking.
Waiting.
Always wanting.
Constant craving.
Hopeless Romantic,
Define Me.
Make Me.
Beautify Me.
Where?
Yesterday.
Today.
Tomorrow.
Lying right next to me.
Meeting my family.
With my friends.
Next door.
Sharing with me.
Escaping with me.
Learning.
Living.
Loving.
Looking.
Seeking.
Waiting.
Always,
a craving.
Always,
a constant wanting.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.06.27.20:14:10@296NYC
Norman
It was hot and crowded at the gallery on 126th Street in Harlem. Black viewers dominated the Jazz inspired exhibition. I was standing along the East wall with a plate in hand. Some rice, some pasta and some fresh vegetables were spread evenly on my white foam plate. With my plastic fork I stood there eating my free food, my starving artist food that I scored at this gallery opening. I stood and observed the crowd. As I stood there, to my left was a man of about age 70 who sat on one of the rare wooden chairs in the gallery. I saw him earlier in the space. He was decked out in a very fashionable jazz outfit. I remember him distinctly because he was dressed in a bright red suit and yellow shirt with matching colourful shoes. His shoes were red and glazed with a shine. They looked like great works of art, almost like Dutch shoes, but these were more electrified with Jazz, like Coltrane blew music through the soles. He walked with a fancy cane held by a hand with a silver nugget ring. Now I stand along the wall, eating my freely scored meal. Out of the corner of my eye I see this wonderful beautiful man all of a sudden slump over and fall out of the chair. For half of a second I pondered if this was performance art, then the other half of the second I realize that there was something seriously wrong. I quickly put my freely scored meal down on the floor with my bag which contained my Bible and went over to the aging black man in the red suit. His face was against the floor and his body twisted in a fashion quite unusual. His cane to the side and his legs overlapping each other. His thick rimmed glasses knocked off of his face, with the weight of his head pressing down on them against the floor. His red cap still on his head. I cradle him in my arms and yell, “Sir! Sir!?” I get no response. A woman walks quickly over from the front of the gallery, “Norman!? Norman!” I realize this woman must know this man and this man was Norman. I cradle him more, with my arms around his back and pick up his head slowly. I yell “Norman!? Norman!?” As I hear various other art viewers yell “Call 9-1-1! Call 9-1-1!” Finally, Norman, with the yellow ochre pants and grey socks slowly opens his eyes. The first being this black man sees in this Harlem gallery is a young white man with blue eyes. I wonder if he thought he was in heaven with white folk or knew where he was. In this hot gallery. This overcrowded space with people who chit chatted to loudly when the speakers wanted to speak. I continue to soothe Norman and his companion leans over with tears and yells for Norman to come to complete consciousness. Norman was only probably out a mere eight to ten seconds, but felt like the lifetime of a pet with four legs. His glasses were off his face now. Yellow glasses with black stripes forming the pattern of a zebra. His yellow shirt cleanly pressed under his stop-sign red jacket. As I continued to cradle this beautiful Jazz man, a man approached me and said “I am a doctor, can I help?” I said yes, and the doctor took over the procedure for caring for the man. As the doctor continued to assist, I stood nearby in case if another helping hand was needed. Finally, in a short amount of time, the emergency workers arrived and attended to my beautiful jazz friend and he finally arose and walked with assistance to the waiting ambulance outside.
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.06.18.20:30:00@104E126thStNYC
03.06.24.05:23:00@296NYC
loving you
loving you is the hardest thing to do
© 2003 David Greg Harth
03.06.14.02:07:34@296NYC