breezy

played and composed by Hart

Facial Scape

by David Hart

"Wolf" by Hart

Take a look at this:
http://www.artbreak.com/work/show/8687-wolf-by-david-hart-david-hart

Roxanne tries to Speak

Primavera, verano, oto�o e invierno

�Qu� flores son estas?

Hermosas, peque�as, y j�venes.

Por favor, me dan

una palabra cordial de gratitud,

una invitaci�n cari�osa,

los p�jaros coloridos,

una familia amable,

una escultura grande,

un acuerdo bueno,

una celebraci�n feliz,

una ma�ana brillante,

energ�a nueva,

una excursi�n temprana

y gratitud.

A la amistad y a la cooperaci�n,

Primavera, verano, oto�o e invierno.
Translation by Daniel Tucker

Doggy

Kristi recites "Now"

"Now" by David HartLet us embark now, you and I,As evening splays out toThe blue-blackening sky.Let us ride throughParticular smooth stonedStreets,To incoherent cacophonousRetreats,To white table-clothedRestaurants,And mint pillowed fourStarred hotels,With cherished friendsAnd talk of noble feats,.....

read more | digg story

Short Art Film

by Dave Hart

Samantha reads

a poem by David Hart

Robson Reads

"A Day Late and A Dollar Short" by David Hart

It was a cold dreamsicle night
A blackbird colored sky dripped
Rice Krispie snow bits down
On a cracked dirt ridden street

An egg yoke colored taxi shuffleslides
by, blowing smoke rings from its rattling
rear pipe.

I was worn out like an overused dish rag.
I sat spinning semi-circles on a
swivel stool at Joe's Open All Night
greasy diner.

An angry cup of coffee winked at me with
Mud puddled eyes and dared me to drink it.

A rag doll woman with shredded wheat hair
Sat sucking on a bent cigarette
Her smeared lipstick put on like a bad
coloring book.

Two yellow bug eyed eggs squinted at me
and said they'd
like to get to know my aching heart.

I gave a slight half smile to my
smeared redded up mouthed fellow epicurean.
Her nostrils flaired as cigarette smoke and makeup powered
fell from her boozer nose.

This could be my 208th love affair --
This one will last I am sure of it.

A couple of burgers on the once silver grill
now screamed their last thoughts on life.
Another day late, another dollar short.
Hart2007

A Time of Youth by David Hart

A Time of Youth by David Hart

A time of youth
They called me a teen
Workin' hard and
Workin' mean,
at the Sears
Roebuck warehouse.

Loadin and unloadin' pallettes,
Put some boxes on the pallette
Take some boxes off the pallette
Boxes on
Boxes off
Startin' at midnight--
Eight hours a day--
Sometimes twelve--
Gotta get the O.T.
That's what we called
Overtime.

A time in youth
An age of a teen.

Jamal worked there too.
He smoked wacky tobacy
and lived in the Cabrini
Green Housing Projects.
Chicago, Illinois.

Breaktime at Sears and
Jamal and I would indulge
in the fearsome herb and some
cough medicine.
Just a little balm to
Get through the graveyard
Shift at Sears.
A time in a year of my teens.
A little balm to ease
the hardscrabble pain.

Went to visit Jamal at the
projects. What did I hear?
"Hey Whitey, Hey Honkey,
Hey White Bread, Hey Snowflake,
Whadda ya doin' here"?
"Geez I said just visitin' my
friend Jamal".
Shoulda said I was movin' in
Coulda said I was movin' in.

Folks come to my neighborhood
With a deep rich skin tone,
I'd never think to say "Hey
Coal face, Hey Charcoal, Hey
Blackie".
I'd usually say, "Hi, Welcome,
What's new, and What's Happenin".

Just a little time at the
Cabrini Green.
Just a little time
When I was a teen.

"Phantasmagoria" by Dave Hart

"Phantasmagoria" by Dave Hart

I
You gaze silently
and stare squinting
through your stained glass panes.

Now pulling aside
sapphire drapes
of flowing somber samite
Replete with glowing organdy
You gaze out.

Lo, a lazy mesmerized
quixotic moon--
blithely blows kisses,
wryly winks
and coyly smiles.


Yea, a light seesaw of a day
of ecstasy and spritely delight--
now wanes to a quiet evening tune.


II
Transfixed you
muse --attent through moist
window panes.

And now enter the past pains
through
a flowing Rorschach panorama
of fluid specters--

a pentimento painting
of myriad serpentine days
metamorphosing
into mellifluous mellowing nights.

Now mirthful,
this moon merrily
mills reticent
clouds in a star
clustered plight.

The meeting with Morpheus...
--wondering of his mood--
cheery and cherry,
one hopes.


III

In the soft security
of your pliant bed--
a weary cheek cradled
in thoughts of this
day now blithely tread--

a voice and vision from the past--
"night night
nighty nite
sleep tight".

IV
Dreaming..
in a dream

Floating in the night skyscape
. . a phantasmagoria
of sensual sights and sounds. .

riding in a catamaran of gilded silk. .
over the still quiet town.

There's the tailor's shop,
the market place,
and the gurgling fountains of the park.

On to other lands afar. .
the Taj Mahal. .
the Great Wall of China
the winged maneuvers of a lark

V

Dreaming . . .
reeling red and yellow
sea horses laugh and dance
while
you roar
over tree tops . . .
mermaids now samba agog
with cheshire cats to the
music of Sergei Rachmaninoff .
shooting stars
of blue purple catching
bolts of lightening

VI
Dearest one
awake now
and stir . . .
To scents of frankincense
and myrrh . . voices of the past.

Long lingering in your cozy warm bed . .
with thoughts
tantalizing in your graceful head . .

Birds twitter
and herald yon
day's new light . . .
a new morn sun yields
cascading
delight.
David Hart 2006

"I Gotta Gun" a poem by David Hart

"I Gotta Gun" by David Hart

I gotta gun.
I'm somebody now.
O, to hold my gun.
I feel so big and
so strong.
I like killin' things.
Bottles and cans are OK
But something alive
To snuff out life
That's the fine exquisite
thrill.
I feel so whole with my
gun. Why should I work
for other's respect when
I can get their fear and
respect by pullin' my gun.
To see blood splurt out
of some animal after I
plugged it good.
Yes. Yessss.
To snuff out life.
I feel like God.
I anxiously anticipate
someone giving me good
reason to use my gun.

someone rubbed me the
wrong way at work today.
I wouldn't think to ignore it,
I wouldn't think to get another job.
Maybe I'll go in and blow anyone
that has upset me away today.

I have no capacity to forgive
I have no capacity to forget.
I won't forget or forgive any
wrong done to me. I file it
away to latter get my revenge.
I only focus on my interpretation
of wrongs done to me.

I never think about all the
good that is afforded me
day after day.

I know I am OK.
Everyday, someone on the TV
has got a gun and is shooting
someone. Must be OK. It's
on the TV.

I got my gun and I ain't
never gonna forgive
and I ain't never gonna
forget.

"Now" by David Hart

"Now" by David Hart

Let us embark now, you and I,
As evening splays out to
The blue-blackening sky.

Let us ride through
Particular smooth stoned
Streets,
To incoherent cacophonous
Retreats,
To white table-clothed
Restaurants,
And mint pillowed four
Starred hotels,
With cherished friends
And talk of noble feats,
To dancing streets that
Entice our feet.

And indeed this is now
This gallant moment in
Time.
Gales of laughter now
Somersault through
the roof pirouetting
in the sky, then careen
now down to tickle the
tops of our heads.

The time is now
And always will be.
No time for the past.
No time for the future.
They don't really exist.
Now exists.
Now will be the moment.
Now will always be the moment.
Forever, now.

hart stuff

 
 
 
 

"Jouissance" par Monsieur David Hart

Jouissance, oui,
J'espere precis
C'est un jouet
etordi
Je me joue
avec la vie
Cest un joujou
etudie!
Jouisssance,
oui,
C'est mon envie
Tiens,
moi, untype
de jongleur des pensees,
oui
Jovialement,
j'aime japper cheri
Des mots, des mots,
des mots
L'un l'autre
Je ne suis pas sur
je cherche pour
les bijoux mots
Jouissance, oui,
c'est mon
Essence et c'est
mon envie

"This Moment in Time" by David Hart

Leaves gleefully joyride
an undulating stream
Under crisp scintillating
sun light.
A butterfly rests in the
hand of God.
A sword is tightly clasped
in Allah's hand.
A flower is caressed by
the Buddha.
Now a break in fervent
faith occurs.
A group of children laugh
and peer at an ant farm.
A butterfly ascends from
the hand of God.
A sword cascades to the
ground from Allah's hand.
A small child delights
upon receiving the Buddha's
flower.
A giddy wind now weaves lovingly
through ticklish trees.

I love my car by Hart

I love my car
It makes me feel so good
I love the smell of my car
I love to go places in my car
I love when people see me in
my car. My car is so wonderful.
I look so cool in my car.
I am my car and my car is me.
I could never live life
without my car.
Car is good. No car is bad.
I would never walk or ride
a bike when I could take my
car. How do people live
without a car? Mmmmmm?
I think I'll go take a ride.
A ride in my car.

Tantalizing Memory by David Hart

On an ending of a day most wearying
With skies overcast and drearying
Glimpsed I your delcate flowing hair
And did lose my track of time

Back through years of care
To whence you were all mine
A flowing dancing head of hair
Nudged me from my pensive lair

Your diamond smile and perfect nose
Your reticence to be a politely close

Our eyes spoke of rare treats of the day
Your lips whispered in a cavalier way

Your diaphonous spectre tantalizes me
again this night
Wresting me once again from my Cimmerian
plight.

"Devastation" by David Hart

Where to go what to do?
Alas, the gentle home is gone
Where to go what to do?
Excursions with the trusted
vehicle--no more.
It's gone--the house, the vehicle
gone.
The memorabilia damaged and gone and
now only the mind's corners to search
for past delights.
Familiarity is now in scarce supply.
Confusion and newness are the main
course.
Chaos now overtakes the status quo.
Where is our special pet?
The kind known now departs and
the harsh unknown is in its place.
Where to go what to do?
What to do where to go?