10 second love story / “Somehow”

pickup truck couple

Somehow

 

I spend a lot of time above a pen and before a keyboard,

trying to let you know how I feel and what you mean to me,

usually to no avail and causing greater confusion.

I’d like to somehow write away the trail of devastation

that you are now forced to walk in the name of me

making a delusional attempt to save the world.

I need to somehow write us back in time

to the place where we were little more than a rumor

and your eyes were smiling more than sad.

I wish that I could somehow write you into my heart

where you could sit quietly and hear it beat for a while

and listen to the words of my own song,

not the lyrics and message of others.

I should somehow write us a two-person tailgate,

with a honey whiskey paper cup and a six-pack

discussing life – real life – while parked under

a “Jesus is the Answer” billboard.

If I could write all of this somehow, you would

understand perfectly what words are in my head

and what my mouth is trying to say.

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Poetry / “Diner placemat love note”

 

diner placemat

I have become a

front porch Bell jar wino

looking for yesterday

 

But all I want is to be

a back alley junkie

freebasing glimpses of tomorrow

 

And on each day of your absence

I’ve received a morphine drip

of your perceived value

 

While fearing the dark

and squinting to find

your fading light

 

At first we loved slowly

as if our touch was a match

that would send up any remaining oxygen

 

But later we found out we matched

however not each other

causing us to softly fade

 

Like a cry for help in a soundproof room

or a reframed photograph hung on a different wall

all leading to your evaporation.

 

So now I’m stuck

and have abandoned myself

on a Formica counter swivel stool

 

With an empty plastic

methadone shot glass

in one hand

 

Writing this diner placemat love note with the other

mind failing and my heart barely strong enough

to pump your entire short life.

Copyright 2013

My eBooks of poetry and romance are available at Etsy – please visit my page:

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Poetry / “Context”

cropped-bookshelf.jpg

Context

 

I might tell you how much I enjoy being with you

as if you couldn’t tell

(I am that transparent)

but it would be without true meaning

 

I should let you know how each of your kisses

paralyze me for a beautiful brief instant

(which is why I have to pull away and reset)

but it would not really matter

 

I could describe the pain in my chest

when we are apart

(that is sometimes accompanied by tears)

but what would be the point

 

I ought to share the calm that I feel

when we are together

(in church they say ‘peace that surpasses all understanding’)

but the words would be hollow

 

I could say all of these things

to you either out loud or in a whisper

(which would you prefer)

but they cannot land successfully

without first framing them

(with I love you)

My eBooks of poetry and romance are available at Etsy – please visit my page:

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Poetry / “Hallowed ground”

 

Hallowed ground

 

To much of the world hallowed ground

is a grotto under a church in Oh Little Town

 

To others it’s a sacred monolith in Mecca

or along the banks of the river Ganges

 

Some feel it’s the killing fields of Gettysburg

or where their hearts are buried South Dakota

 

And others find hallowed two holes in Manhattan

one in Pennsylvania and one in a five-sided wall

 

But to me it’s much easier than these because

my holy land begins with a table and two chairs and

an initial kiss hello outside of a coffee shop

on a warm November morning

My eBooks of poetry and romance are available at Etsy – please visit my page:

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Poetry / “Red”

red light

Red

 

The stop signs

(two)

and traffic lights

(too many to count)

between his house and hers were

(considered by him to be)

impediments to the

far too few minutes and hours

that they spent together

each day

(or week or month)

but the same red

lights and signs

on his way home were like

magnets that could not keep him

(from having to leave)

but kept him closer

to her for brief

but wonderful

pauses

(in time)

copyright 2012 Steven Harz

My eBooks of poetry and romance are available at Etsy – please visit my page:

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Poetry / “Cereal box decoder ring”

decoder ring

Cereal box decoder ring

 

Your pink pillow now missing

had been inside an invisible box

with a Crayola note on the back of

a love letter treasure map

saying something about

‘in case of emergency’

 

So I go to my drawer and find my

cereal box secret decoder ring

to decode your internal scars

 

And for external scars I use a

toy store telescope

backwards because they’ll look smaller

 

Forgotten wounds are rediscovered

with a cracked and dusty crystal ball

from a back of the closet toy box

 

To uncover hidden clues I put your

abandoned diary in a

Close ‘n Play phonograph and

listen to the silence

 

To learn from tears you have left as a wake

I move weightlessly across black water

like Jesus or a bug

 

And when I reach the other shore

with a dime store shovel and pale

I dig where the X marks the spot

 

In a loose dirt shallow grave is a

Peter Pan treasure chest

I flip the latch and open the lid

to find your pink pillow case

empty except for my old Magic 8 Ball

that quietly says to me

‘Reply hazy, try again’

My eBooks of poetry and romance are available at Etsy – please visit my page:

https://www.etsy.com/shop/OctoberRoadPublish