Monday, March 6, 2017

Three Poems

Scorpion Poem

A bit of shell
pincers to explore

Never mind the
raised tail over
stanza three

A quick dash
and the end of
a difficult line.

JD DeHart


The stumbling figure
ambling down the hill
rambling down, footstep
to drunken, injured, or ill
footstep, an interesting
shape upon the earth.

JD DeHart

Zero In

Those eyes that pinned
down the head
of a snake from several
feet away, that caught
a flush of fur
in dense undergrowth
are not the same.

They are a bit more
opaque now and have to be
hidden behind glasses.

Those ears that received
my confession
at night, in arms, are now
slightly more wrapped
in cotton then they used to be

so that the world once
clear in hue is muffled.

JD DeHart

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Three Poems


A playful sense
of insane energy, electric
connection, like kissing
an open flame,
hair standing on end
from the open socket,
threatening and soothing
comforting and unsettling
in the same buoyant
kinetic moment.

JD DeHart

Sleep’s Not Coming

Turn again
on the side that isn’t so
sore.  Restless.  Yearn,

Outside, the neighbors
are all silent in their caves,
inside the light is flickering,
must keep it down.
Must keep it down.

I work through the discourse
in my mind.  I work through
the day in my mind.
There is hardly any day left
untouched by the end of
the night.

My fingers are tired, but
the steady-moving stream of traffic
drags me on.

JD DeHart

Study of Balance

See how the ballerina,
poised, raises one leg,
crushing existence.

See how the world turns
on its axis slightly before
slipping into the sea.

Notice how the talk
began covered with kindness
as a fabrication, then became
a loathsome denigration.

Walk the balance beam.
Don't look down too often.

JD DeHart