Steven Harz Music

Poem: “Paperweight”

Because on Saturday night I am in bed and fall asleep alone Because on Sunday morning I sit in a pew and wait for help forsaken Because on Monday I sit at my desk and try to work isolated Because each day I formulate love letters to you on pretty paper undelivered…
10 second love story: “Two senses”

From my book of poetry and short fiction titled “Song’s you can’t dance to” – now available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. — While you were here (and were mine) my mind was deaf and blind (or numb) and everything you said and did was silent and invisible But now that you are gone…
2 Minute haiku: “Truth”

My suicide was reported with no reason but you know the truth
Poem: “Unknown battle”

My written words are in an unknown battle with your unspoken thoughts and since neither are audible or discernible to the other or to us the fight will silently rage into the darkness until we are deafened by the peace that could have been — if you liked this please check out my book of…
Poem: “Chronicle”

I am not glad that you are gone (have left) but I am thankful that while you were here I chronicled our love on my flesh but my art is not that of (clichéd) dragons and skulls or daggers (though this may be next) but of hearts and crosses and birds and Bible verses (Psalm…
Poem: “Momentary atheist”

I studied you tonight as I if were reading and re-reading the Bible in Braille but when I came to passages reviling fornication I became a momentary atheist — copyright 2012 Steven Harz — “Momentary atheist” is included in my book, “Songs you can’t dance to” http://www.amazon.com/Songs-You-Cant-Dance-ebook/dp/B00ATQW5XK
Poem: Written History

There is a box in your basement or attic (or in last week’s trash) overfilled with letters that I’d written too you and about us and these memories and poems and prayers are one half of our written history. Beneath my bed is a similar box filled with your writing and lip prints and smells…
Excerpt from “Tin Boy”

For a moment he returned to the years when her costumes consisted of white nurses’ capes, red riding hoods, and soft blue eyes – her smile that night was the same as then, minus braces, and dimples now outshone freckles. With only a handful of houses to go and his football helmet in his pillowcase…
Silent roar

My head echoing with the roar of silent flashbacks (of us) makes me wish and pray or cross my fingers (and hope to die) that I was deaf (on the inside) Or perhaps I could find that spot on my body (or yours) where the pain gets in (and out) and plug it closed with…
2 minute haiku: not

The chance for to have and to hold became she loves me she loves me not – copyright 2012 Steven Harz
Excerpt from ‘blessed’

they had to be quiet for a while and let it all soak in because as they say and silence is golden. now if he drove really fast and used the tappan zee bridge as a ramp they would be in orbit in no time and wouldn’t that be better than here and even though…
Excerpt from flash fiction story ‘advent on a one year delay’

sunday was jeans and sneakers and gloves and parkas which not only came in handy on the trails but also later in the theater because can you believe how cold it was in there? i didn’t care though because it gave me a reason to sit closer to you and feel your head against my…