10 second love story / “Somehow”

pickup truck couple



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.


Poetry / “Franklin’s Kite”

franklin kite

Like I suppose Columbus held

while he sailed the ocean blue,

I try to locate you with

a brass compass.


Like I’ve seen Gandhi wear,

while nonviolently battling the Brits,

I battle old photos through clear

round gold frames


Like I learned da Vinci designed,

in between the helicopter and scuba gear,

on my wall waiting for you to return

is a painfully accurate clock.


Like we were taught Hancock wielded

to sweep his name on the Declaration,

on my desk is a pen that I’ve used

to denounced my independence


Like I know Franklin used

when he discovered electricity,

I have a key and a string and a kite

that I send up daily like a beacon

hoping to be struck so that you

will know that I’m still here


Copyright 2012

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


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:



eBook of Poetry and Romance / “Songs You Can’t Dance To”

book cover_songs you cant dance to

A mixture of equal parts of love and grief, “Songs you can’t dance to” contains poems that center on the anticipation and joy of new and maintained love as well as the sorrow and pain of longing and loss. Additionally, this volume includes eight works of short fiction that range in theme from high school love to the unending echo of a national tragedy. With “Songs you can’t dance to” Steven Harz begins to explore the key components of the human experience.


This book of poetry and romance can be found at: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/songs-you-can-t-dance-to


Poetry / “Gunpowder ghosts”

gunpowder ghost1

Gunpowder ghosts


I am unsure that you still exist because

my memories are grainy and out of focus

like films of bigfoot

lumbering across the landscape

leaving footprints real or not


Perhaps you’re still here and

are held up by invisible strings

like blurry pie plates in UFO films

that we once watched on a

second hand black and white Zenith


I have tried to find you

in movies of the Bermuda Triangle

between the invisible wreckage

of hull and fuselage on

the possible coast of Atlantis


Unclear and unstill the

photos of Loch Ness

forbid me from finding you

on her shores in the Highlands

and in the shadows of sea serpents


Finally six stories above

Zapruder’s 8mm vantage point

among the gunpowder ghosts of

Jack and Oswald and Ruby

I find you deciding whether you

are anything more than a hoax

as you polish your barrel

and weigh the options of

pulling your own trigger

_ _ _ _

copyright 2014

_ _ _ _

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



Poetry / “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: