Tag Archives: superheroes

More Human than Hero

Heroes are just humans,

full of flaws and faults

like the rest of us

They may think that

the flaws are hidden when capes and masks are donned,

that faults fly away when they do,

but instead they just fester and grow

into something without edges

or boundaries.

In trying to save the world,

they forget to save themselves.

They turn more human than hero.

And that is what draws us to them.

You can give us super-humans

and although their powers dazzle us,

we are allured to the human in their names.

Placeholder_couple_superhero

Advertisements

So Do Our Heroes

To you, oh comicbooks, do I appoint the dedication of this poem to

All your intricacies and simplicities

All your realities and complexities

You reflect our hearts

of what they are and what they wish to be

Victory and vanity

Freedom and failings

Honor and hesitation

These are you

These are us

We created super-powered beings

with ink and paper and imagination

We created beings with powers due only to gods

We created false gods

knowing that we do the same with flesh and blood

not just ink and paper.

We imbued you with powers beyond comprehension

to change the world

and not just your’s

with evil masterminds

and cat burglars

and devilish henchmen,

but also to change our world.

To give hope

and dreams

and nobility

to little boys and girls

reading your pages.

So that when they grow up

to become big boys and big girls

they can change the world.

Yet,

in giving you powers beyond our comprehension

we also heightened your

failures and faults and flaws

We created Superman

and we created kryptonite

We created Spider-man

and we created Uncle Ben

We created Wolverine

and we created his savageness

We created heroes

and we created their weaknesses

to comfort us

to know that

we have failures and faults and flaws

and so do our heroes.

Hulk 1 cover

To You Who Gave Me Writing

To you who gave me writing

To my mother who spent hours with brightly colored flashcards

taught me that a semi-circle shape was a “C”

To my grandmother who would trace letters on my back

taught me the touch of words

To my parents who wrote down in my daily journal I what I told them to write

taught me the recording power of words and that my words mattered

To my mother who on that just beginning to cool, hot summer evening in the kitchen

taught me the letters in my name

To my father who would read to me comicbooks from his childhood

taught me that I can be enthralled in compelling stories and heroic characters

To my mother who persevered against my whining in forcing me to read beginner level “Bob Books”

taught me that I can be a critic of what I read but I still have to respect it

To Miss Griffin, my kindergarten teacher, who after reading a story about ducks

taught me that “ing” means action, a verb

To Mary Pope Osborne who wrote Magic Tree House, the first books I ever read and enjoyed by myself

taught me the joy and accomplishment of reading

To Ms. Hinds, my fourth grade teacher, who gave me an assignment to give a biographical speech about someone famous

taught me how empowering public speaking can be

To Ms. Benford, my elementary school librarian, who found for me my favorite childhood author

taught me to try new genres and that “different” can bring some of best things

To Margaret Peterson Haddix who was my favorite childhood author and filled my childhood with characters and situations and words and choices

taught me how other’s writing can touch my life

To Ms. Burke, my fifth grade teacher, who gave me an assignment to write a mystery story

taught me the power and excitement of my own fiction

To Ms. Cothran, my public speaking coach, who saw potential in me and changed a shy, analytical girl to a animated girl and a lover of poetry and my own writing

taught me that my writing impacts others and that I have a voice, so use it

To Ms. Mihocko, my seventh grade teacher, who critiqued me hard

taught me that my style is not enjoyed by everyone

To Pastor Randy who gave my first chance to preach a real sermon

taught me to follow my dreams and to work for the Lord

To Ms. Conley, my freshman english teacher, who opened my eyes to the wondrous world of writing and analyzing literary devices

taught me why and how I love the written word

To WordPress who gave me a way to share my writing

taught me that others value my work and that I should take pride in it

To Economics summer test that hours upon hours spent pointless stem and response that no one will ever glance at

taught me that purpose of writing is to convey a meaningful message that will be read

***

To you who gave me writing

and to all I left out in this poem

I thank you dearly

for writing

allows me to create my world

both in fiction

and not

***

To God who created the heavens and the earth and everything in between

for giving me something to write about

To God who gave me a mind to comprehend writing and all of its glorious intricate relationships

To God who gave the world writing at its perfection, the Bible

To God who allows me to spread His Word through my words

***

To you who gave me writing

To you who gave me the power to change the world

To you who gave me the power to change my life

To you

 

words

Living My Own Legend

I recently found a short story that I meant to continue on with but never did. The story does end quite abruptly because it was never finished, but overall I am pretty happy with the writing considering how inexperienced I was when I first began writing it. Enjoy!


 

“Why did you change your name, Maurice?” My school counselor, Mr. Stephen, asked again.

“Okay, listen to me this time. Maurice Orca, verses Erik Quint. Which do you like better?” I say with a fatigued look on my face.

“Are you sure it’s not because of denial of your past, Maurice – “

“It’s Erik.”

“Erik, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger,” said Mr. Stephen, doing a terrible impression of Kelly Clarkson.
You see, my name used to be Maurice Orca, until I changed it to Erik Quint in seventh grade. One of the reasons why I did was because my parents were villains who got in a fight with The Man. Look, my parents were bad guys, and they robbed banks and did, well, bad stuff. They were doing one of their heists and were beaten by The Man, and three days later, I visited the morgue.  I have found that in this world you will do better if your last name isn’t the same as big time bad guys.

Continue reading

11 Things I Learned from Batman (1960s)

  1. The best excuse to leave is that you need to go bird watch

aunt-harriet02

 

2. When you have to be super secret going into a super-villain bar, always wear your superhero costume and go up to the bar and ask for orange juice with no pulp.

Orange_juice_1_edit1

 

3. Are you a super-villain? Do you love your mustache? With face-paint, you can keep your stache.

Batman3.1418162459

 

4. You don’t need special effects, you just need to turn your camera

Bat-Climb.

 

5. Your clothes don’t have to match as long as you have bats on them

surfing batman

 

6. Buckle Up!

Batman-seatbelt

 

7. Who needs Mary Poppins suitcase, your Mama’s purse, or that guy’s satchel when you can have Batman’s Utility Belt that has everything, the kitchen sink, shark repellent and all?

shark repellent

 

8. Label everything

batcomputer

 

9. A villain will always go after what their motif is

catwoman_newmar

 

10. Bulters rule

alfred_batphone

 

11. If you are a super-villain’s goon, have your name on your shirt

goons

 

I love Batman, but sometimes I just have to point out the cheese!

The Chameleon: A Triolet

The Chameleon, a life spent to hide the man

A mask so thick he does not want to find who he was once

With his masks, clothes, and skills he could be anyone from your doctor to your fireman

The Chameleon, a life spent to hide the man

Hired as spy and impostor, even if there is not a personal identity, he is a wanted man

With seven billion people in the world, he can find an identity in abundance

The Chameleon, a life spent to hide the man

A mask so thick he does not want to find who he was once

What Are Friends For?

Setting:Blank white room with windows overlooking a park. There are seven folding chairs in a circle, but only six people. On the door to the room is a sign saying ‘Therapy Group for Friends of Superheroes’.

 

Characters:

Mary Jane Watson – Spider-man’s on and off again girlfriend

Harry Osborn – Spider-man’s friend and sometimes Green Goblin

Jimmy Olsen – Superman’s friend and Daily Planet photographer

Foggy Nelson – Daredevil’s friend and partner in law

Lois Lane – Superman’s on and off again girlfriend and Daily Planet journalist

Alfred Pennyworth – Batman’s butler

Doc Ock: Spider-man supervillain

 

Alfred:

I would assume that someone would be leading this group?

Foggy (Says shaking his head):

Yeah, I got a law firm to run and sadly my payment is fish.

Lois (checking her phone):

Come on, we all got lives and appointments, but we are all here for one reason. We are friends of superheroes and it’s hard.

Mary Jane:

I don’t even know how many times Pete has come home all beat up and has refused to go the hospital. It keeps me awake all night not knowing if this will be his last fight.

Jimmy:

I don’t really have that problem, Superman can take care of himself. But it is more about how many times I’ve been kidnapped. Good grief, I start to feel at home inside a bag blindfolded by how many times I gotten taken.

Harry:

I am sure that we have all had that happen to us, but Superman can only get hurt by magic or a rock. If Spider-man gets a rock thrown at him then he bruises.

Foggy:

Even more so, Daredevil is blind. He could not even see the rock coming! But then again he does have sonar and he is not afraid of anything. (To himself) And that’s what scares me.

Lois:

Have you ever thought that Superman doesn’t even belong to this planet! How hard that must be for him.

Alfred:

Ms. Lane, I do not know if you noticed, but every hero who has a friend here is an orphan. Bruce’s parents were shot, Matt’s father was murdered and his mother is a mystery, you just pointed out Clark and what about Peter’s parents  . . .

Mary Jane:

Are a long story.

Jimmy:

So all of our heroes have a sad story that they rise up against and become legends, but what about us. Who is supposed to cover for their three times a week upset stomachs and forgetting their sunglasses?

Lois:

Is it bad to not want them to go out and save hundreds of lives and only want them to be our heroes? Only to be our boyfriends and husbands? To be there for us?

Foggy:

I don’t know about that last part, but I do wish that Matt would show up to a case when I need him. But it is just human nature. But that is not a reason to stop having a relationship with them all together. (Foggy coughs and looks directly at Mary Jane.)

Harry:

Have you ever thought that we are the people that gives our hero strength to get up and finish off the Lizard or Doomsday or Joker? We are the people that they are fighting for.

Lois:

Not exactly sure if that works when you happen to be in the Villain’s place, Harry.

Jimmy:

Ohh, burn, man! That was first class!

Mary Jane:

Hey, we all make mistakes.

Foggy:

Like being a druggie when Gwen’s neck snapped and the whole universe just got a little bit darker.

Alfred:

We are here to support one another through difficult times and not point out flaws.

Lois:

I am sorry, Harry.

Harry:

Thank you. Not everyone finds out that their Dad is a supervillain and that the superhero killed him and you want revenge to only find out that the hero is your best friend.

Jimmy:

Yeah, that doesn’t happen to everybody  . . .

CRASH!!! The windows shattered into the room as Doc Ock walks through.

Doc Ock:

Did anyone ever think about ever think about the villains? We do not have any friends. What makes us keep on going when we are beat? Does anyone love us besides our mother’s?

Lois:

Umm . . . didn’t you have that weird mind swapping thing going on a while ago? Anna Maria loved you.

Doc Ock:

But I had to be in Peter’s body to do that! And it took decades before I was able to even get a chance! I even died for her. Did anyone here die for their hero? I think not.

Alfred:

Mr. Octavius, I do not believe that I see Miss Gwen Stacy present.

Foggy:

Friends and loved ones give people – our heroes – things worth fighting for. Without them, they only have things worth dying for.

Placeholder_couple_superhero