Category: My Prose
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Stories
Stories We are all storey tellers. Sharing stories, telling tales, spinning yarns. It’s an art, a gift we all share where we indulge Some primal urge to sit around a fire And recount the past and speculate on the future. Be it campfire, the old parlour victrola Or an I-Max screen with Dolby sound We…
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Sleep
Sleep I like to sleep, but only in the morning, or maybe until noon. You wouldn’t know it from the routines I keep. I shall explain. My most productive hours are those between roughly 10 pm and 3 am. Others are generally sleeping between those hours and (justifiably in their minds) think that I should…
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Fallen
Fallen <— Click here for the audio version of “Fallen”. Before I take that first step I know what it is. My heart says go to it, but my head says walk away. These are choices I was not meant to make, too reminiscent of other choices and chances for good or ill. I say…
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Angel of Mercy
Angel Of Mercy <— click here for the audio version For all the discomfort that I’ve born, the boredom, the frustration this old body has been subjected to, the indignities I have suffered, I have endured. It has been a trial and a test. God has seen fit to make of me a latter day…
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One Flew Over The Cardiac Ward
One Flew Over The Cardiac Ward Summer 2021 My Sad Tale Of Woe I will forever remember this as my “roller coaster” summer, more ups and downs than the old Flyer at the CNE. Five extended stays at MSH, 4 for cardiac issues and one minor detour for some abdominal distress. Some of the staff…
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Validation
Validation I may be revisiting old themes here, but it’s worth another kick at the can. A child is born and, when it’s eyes first open, it searches for its mothers face. If it first encounters a smiling face, then all is well. It is an instinctive reaction like suckling or a grasping hand. That is…
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Paul’s Epiphany – Wendigo Country
It is entirely possible that the DORK, who often masquerades as Paul Dobson, has limited or no recollection of the stunning epiphany he experienced late on Sunday night. In fact, there appeared to be many epiphanies occurring in a rapid staccato of revelations. He was open-mouthed, wide-eyed, head-shaken, agape, agog, astounded by the sights that assailed him. The…
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Paul’s Epiphany – Wendigo Country
Wendigo – Magic It is entirely possible that the DORK, who often masquerades as Paul Dobson, has limited or no recollection of the stunning epiphany he experienced late on Sunday night. In fact, there appeared to be many epiphanies occurring in a rapid staccato of revelations. He was open-mouthed, wide-eyed, head-shaken, agape, agog, astounded by…
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It’s What I Do
It’s What I Do When words are not enough I drift into the murky realm of poetry. Moulding, shaping, sculpting the language Giving form and substance to mists and ethers. The same words but with different meaning, Expressing the inexpressible, defining the undefinable A fool’s errand, tilting at windmills That none can see save me.…
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The Green Steamer Trunk
Lesson #20 – The Green Steamer Trunk In The Basement Like many veterans, my father was reluctant to publicly share his experiences of those days. He kept his wartime memories in a battered green steamer trunk in the basement. It smelled of mothballs and long-ago events that perhaps didn’t bear examining too closely. It wasn’t…
Palimpsest 