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1:04
"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.
24 Sep 2007
839
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0:44
Hart Plaza in Downtown Detroit is teaming with people at the annual Jazz Festival.
25 Sep 2007
303
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1:07
Does Jesse Hart have a new girl friend? Marta Mcgonagle - *******www.imdb****/name/nm1159715/
19 Nov 2007
1582
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1:03
"Purpose" by David Hart Beautiful beacon, behold now the ostentation of contemporary life. What is our purpose? To thank God, to resolve friction and animosity, to be patient with our humanity, to aid and assist in garnering wisdom
5 Dec 2007
996
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1:17
a poem by David Hart
13 Jan 2008
167
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0:35
poeme par Hart
13 Jan 2008
257
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0:31
poetry in Aramaic written by David Hart
13 Jan 2008
445
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0:39
"The Blue Sun Light" by David Hart A blue sun gyrates in a chrystalline green sky. Flowers made of diamonds float In purple sun light chanting to giddy birds swimming smoothly and certainly in an orange and gold sea.
24 Jan 2008
218
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0:48
"Now" by David Hart Let us embark now, you and I, As evening splays out to The blue-black sky. Let us proceed through Particular smooth stoned Streets, To incoherent rowdy Retreats, To white table-clothed Restaurants, To four Star hotels with mints on the pillows, With cherished friends And expound of noble great deeds, And then, To dancing streets that Entice our feet. And indeed this is now This gallant moment in Time. Gales of laughter now Skyrocket through the roof twirling in the warm dark sky, then bounce 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.
21 Aug 2009
528
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1:29
poeme de l'amour par David Hart, Artiste Americain
30 Jan 2008
413
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2:24
T.S. Eliot poem read by Illinois Artist David John Hart I The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimneypots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps. II The morning comes to consciousness Of faint stale smells of beer From the sawdust-trampled street With all its muddy feet that press To early coffee-stands. With the other masquerades That times resumes, One thinks of all the hands That are raising dingy shades In a thousand furnished rooms. III You tossed a blanket from the bed You lay upon your back, and waited; You dozed, and watched the night revealing The thousand sordid images Of which your soul was constituted; They flickered against the ceiling. And when all the world came back And the light crept up between the shutters And you heard the sparrows in the gutters, You had such a vision of the street As the street hardly understands; Sitting along the bed's edge, where You curled the papers from your hair, Or clasped the yellow soles of feet In the palms of both soiled hands. IV His soul stretched tight across the skies That fade behind a city block, Or trampled by insistent feet At four and five and six o'clock; And short square fingers stuffing pipes, And evening newspapers, and eyes Assured of certain certainties, The conscience of a blackened street Impatient to assume the world. I am moved by fancies that are curled Around these images, and cling: The notion of some infinitely gentle Infinitely suffering thing. Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh; The worlds revolve like ancient women Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
30 Jan 2008
295
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0:42
"Ode to a Sandpiper" by Dave Hart Cognoscente of ocean sand and waves Peck-nibbling your days away Spindly legs ever in prestissimo gait Strafe the sand in staccacto flecks quaff an undulating tide -- a delectable salt water tope. ©David Hart 2006 Oda para Ave Zancuda Semejante a la agachadiza ---Amado pequeño ave Chico pico como pequeño espada Pequeño pata sin miedo raspadura la plaza Darse prisa Darse prisa Yanquilargo chico ave Darse un banquete del ondulante ola Amado pequeño ave Amado pequeño ave
30 Jan 2008
1280
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