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Category Archives: Creative Writing
Final Moments
This story is loosely based on real-life events in a neighbourhood in my native Toronto. Names, ages and details have been altered but the story of loss is the same. My heart goes out to the family who lives this horror every day.
Note: Please be aware of the graphic nature of the content presented.
She stood graveside, wrapped in her husband’s arms, nothing but the rhythm of the falling rain to hide the painful beat of a broken heart and the stream of tears running down her face. Today marked their 7th birthday, Amir and Sunil, her precious twins cut down as they played peacefully in their own driveway.
Nine months had passed since a sixteen-year-old demon raced through the neighbourhood in Daddy’s Mercedez Benz; completely unaware of the precious lives surrounding him as he caught the curb at three times the limit, vaulting the steel monstrosity he commanded it into the afternoon air.
Continue readingWhat If?
What if I just said “Hi?”
Do you think she’d notice,
Maybe say Hi back,
Or will she ignore me,
Pretend she heard jack?
I could buy her a coffee,
See if she’ll stay,
Or take the drink gracefully,
And be on her way…
What if I smiled,
And shot her a glance,
Maybe some sweet talk,
Will get in her pants?!?
Wait, it wasn’t supposed,
To be like this,
She and her friend,
Just blew me a kiss!
I’m sitting her flustered,
Caught in a stare,
Should I just walk over,
and talk to the pair?
Instead I just pack up,
Head straight for the door,
Trip on my left feet and,
Fall flat on the floor…
“Are you ok?”
I heard someone say,
As I picked up my ego,
And just ran away!
Sitting in my car,
As if I could die,
What a novel idea
Maybe next time I’ll try…
What if I just said “Hi?”
Voices In the Wall
She was here yesterday
Now she fades with haste
Like a distant memory
But I remember her face
She’s an unwritten book
Page after page
A canvas of white nothing
Like an empty stage
From music to silence
From movement to night
A forgotten performance
That never takes flight.
Her eyes, her face, her name
Reflect in the mirrors in a hall
Don’t make a sound
I hear voices in the wall
It’s hard to forget things
That were never said
Surrender to the shame
Playing games inside my head.
She filled my arms yesterday
Now she is all but gone
Alone in this empty room
I can still hear her song
Graceful in the night wind
Her voice in the cold night
Leaving me on my own
Her wings clipped, mid-flight
She was here yesterday
Now she fades with haste
Like a distant memory
But I remember her face
I can’t forget her face
I remember her face…
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The One That Got Away
Clive Davis was once famously referred to as the “Man with the Golden Ears”. The stable of artists he discovered or nurtured is vast, making him a legend in the music business. Janis Joplin, Aerosmith, Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel are just a few iconic names from the list of music royalty influenced by Davis.
The task for this week’s Song Lyric Sunday is simple, select a song by an artist that was discovered, nurtured or produced by Clive Davis. I am going to step outside the box and stretch the rules a little. The post will most certainly be related to Clive Davis but the artist was not a Clive Davis product. Instead, I have chosen to focus on someone who auditioned for Davis but he chose to pass on as discussed in a 2017 interview with Rebecca Jarvis on the ABCNews’ weekly show Real Biz.
Continue readingGrowing Old
I have been sick for just over a week now and find myself tardy for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest. I’ve read everyone else’s wonderfully terrible work and thought I’d submit a late submission. Hope you enjoy my terrible attempt at Burlesque poetry.
Growing old
If I may be so bold
Is a fate that really does blow
Things start to leak
Nothing’s at peak
And ear hair begins to grow
The girls may be hot
But it’s all for naught
There’s nary a twitch down below
My backs gone out
I’ve a bout o’ the gout
How I got here, I just don’t know
If I may be frank
Damn, my mind has gone blank
I barely remember my name
Gravity’s a drag
Pulling down on my bag
Wearing shorts only brings me shame
Life can be blunt
Getting old an affront
To how we once played the game
I’m a retiree
I’m well past my expiry
How did I get to be this damn lame
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The Benefits of Global Warming
Carbon, methane, nitrous,
An atmospheric breech.
If global warming goes uncheck,
You’ll find me up in Greenland,
Sunbathing on the beach!
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Better Off Dead
My head’s been set on fire,
My weary bones do ache,
I’m sizzlin’ hot to touch,
Still, I shiver and I shake.
With a scratch in my throat and,
A faucet for a nose,
That gets redder and more raw,
Every time it has to blows.
I’ve got blotches on my torso,
Itchy, scratchy and the such,
My palatine uvula is so swollen,
It’s becoming a little much.
I’ve burst blood vessels in my eye,
From coughing up a lung,
Don’t get me started on the back end,
Just get me a bloody bung.
My insides twisted up in knots,
Cramps eating at my gut,
Pressure building deep within,
Gases exploding from my butt.
I kneel before the Ivory throne,
Paying respect to the porcelain King,
I’ve eaten nothing in three days,
Still, I’m going to fill the thing.
I bolt awake at 2 a.m.,
Sweat streaming from my pores,
I’ve been lying here so bloody long,
I’m developing bedsores.
Not Tylenol or Advil or a combo of the two
Can soothe this pounding head,
Don’t know how much more I can take
I think I’d be better off dead!
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Whirlwind
I have not been feeling well, actually thought I may have contracted COVID despite three mRNA jabs but the Rapid Antigen Tests I’ve been doing daily keep showing up negative. Clearly, I have not been posting (or reading) over the last few days but I did dig up something that I wrote a few years ago when I purchased my first Surface Pro. It gave me an opportunity to play with the new stylus pen that came with the tablet.
I’m no artist but I just had to try and this poem is what I came up with. I saw a recent Sunra Rainz post where she had written a poem called The Sands of Time in the shape of an hourglass. It reminded me of this forgotten piece so I retrieved it from my OneDrive archive and dusted it off. The original idea for the poem was a funnel however it morphed into a tornado as I drew the grade one quality artwork. Both are fitting analogies, a funnel with the water representing life dripping out the bottom and a tornado representing the whirlwind that is life. The piece was unnamed at the time but as I put this post together, particularly the sentence before this one, I thought “Whirlwind” fit a pretty good description of life as we move through it much too quickly and so it is now titled.
Hope you enjoy it. I’ll be back soon.
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Like the Stars Miss the Sun
John Milton the English Poet and intellectual once said, “The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven.“ Think of that statement and then think of song lyrics where Milton’s quote rings true. That is Jim at A Unique Name For Me has challenged us with Sunday Song Lyric Sunday. We are to explore the mind for this week’s theme. The songs should be about mind, thoughts and/or the brain.
Think song of bliss, euphoria, depression, suicide and addiction. Examples range from Ozzy Osbourne‘s “Crazy Train“ to George Strait‘s “Nobody In His Right Mind Would Have Left Her“, from girl in red‘s “Serotonin“ to Joy Division‘s “She’s Lost Control“, from Tears for Fears‘ “Mad World“ to Patsy Cline‘s “Crazy“. There is no shortage of material to choose from that references the brain and the working of the mind.
This week I have chosen to highlight Lana Del Rey‘s haunting track “Summertime Sadness“. A song that skillfully weaves a tale of mental illness born from a deep loss. The track explores depression, while intertwining happy memories with thoughts of death and suicide. The accompanying music is eerily layered to evoke the sense of extreme melancholy the protagonist is experiencing.
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