Tag: dehart

In Crowd I discover in myself this startling desire to fit in. As if I am some teenager in an afterschool special or training video.  Listen, honey, don’t worry about those other kids. I am now looking for a new teacher than those crowding voices around me. An inner truth to tether myself to the world, eschewing the script, enveloped […]

Take Two And this is why I love film.  No one stutters unless they mean to.  They represent themselves in the best take of all. I am a silent performer.  When I drive down the road, I belt out music like a professional.  I wish I hadn’t told you that. In my mind, there’s an auditorium. Figures from my past […]

Word Bubbles Travel with me a moment into a place where our thoughts become action.  Yes, this sounds like the introduction to a 60s science fiction series.  Pardon me. There are some ideas I wish to keep secret.  They are my tangle of vines, grounding me in reality.  Reminding me that I don’t have to throat punch someone. All I […]

Most Recent   I’m making sure all is still alive.  Checking the pulse of the homepage. Routinely observing to see if the rise and fall of ideas is still in sway. I make the most of this room, circle the table, tell my little jokes, and hope that what I’m saying reaches out like a tree limb tapping or even […]

A Portrait of Wilbur Just as one poet once wrote about a last duchess, so did the poet write about the first Wilbur. The brown clothing, smell of moth balls, scent of age of rows of books that Wilbur rested within. You have to wonder – did he read all those books, are they in progress, or are they simply […]

The Complication Slide in Problem #1 since the story’s going too easily, way too well It’s a complication just created around the second act, since the author did not realize the story was so simple A bit of a bad baron dropped in from the sky, as in: Why should she be attracted to him? But it will propel us […]

Persona non Grata   To the not good enough comments, I say, psshhhhhh. That was last week, a hundred years ago.  Easily. I’m flushing, rinsing down the last backwash of badly- formed words. This week is triumph, so don’t mind that shadow you noticed last week.  He has bloomed like a perrenial and will be back soon.  

A Made-Up Place   I’d love to sit by the old stone wall I made up once and roll it away to find a stairwell behind, a journey into a deeper unknown mystery of my mind, returning to the core of who I was, my smallest form, so that I might learn something new for today.  

I Want to Be in a Comic Book From the flashing pages of my youth, I have wanted to be in a comic book. I designed my suit, considered my powers and weapons.  I imagined a damsel in distress. Even thought of my perfect lair. On my swing set, I would consider this universe of my making. I set about […]

In the World I’m tired of the high-minded voices I know talking about not being of the world. Like, what does that really mean?  I’m the substance of this known universe. I have dirt under my nails.  I eat from the ground. Get used to it. It’s not that I disagree with their stance on life, the universe, and a […]