The Final Curtain

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Standing backstage she shone like a star despite a tear falling from her eye.

The colours of her pavonine costume, iridescent in the dim light of the corridor.

 The music from the orchestra building towards imminent climax.

It was almost time to walk out on that stage for the final curtain just like it had happened a thousand nights before…

The crowd would go wild. Her transformation from child to woman to goddess complete.

Except, this time there was no tomorrow.

Week #240 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt.
Word: Pavonine, Count: 81

Photo credit: Magaret Jaszowska via Unsplash.

Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

True Colours

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Written for Week #162 of Crispina Kemp’s Crimson Creative Challenge. Photo credit: Crispina Kemp.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Insider Trading

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Most everyone has seen me on CNN’s investing segment. A successful investor who built an empire through sound investing decisions. Many follow my investing advice by reading my syndicated column published daily in countless newspapers or through my weekly investing podcast. For many, my philanthropic foundation and the work it does has touched their communities and families.

This story isn’t about any of that; this is the untold story of how it all came to be. It really should have been episode one of the podcast except that what I am about to disclose can never be documented, anywhere, ever. We are all haunted by a past and exposing mine would unravel all the good that has been accomplished since. Continue reading →

Relics

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My Mom passed away about a month ago and now the task of combing through a lifetime of memories waits around every corner of my childhood home.

After Dad’s passing several years ago I’d catch my Mom stopping in the places he would occupy just to breathe in his scent, talk to him, and be near him through the things he loved.

A mix of heartache and nostalgia, longing for the days he’d surprise her with a new vase full of flowers, a trinket she’d display proudly on a shelf, or a note he’d penned just for her.

Every piece collected and cared for with sentimental value that far outstripped each object’s worldly worth.

To most, including my brother, nothing more than junk; relics from a bygone era that with the exception of a few treasures will end up on the shelves of secondhand stores or in landfill.

It’s less simple for me, I see Mom and Dad and my youth in these objects and I can’t help but imagine what my children will think ‘someday’ as they sift through the remains of my life.

Written for GirlieOnTheEdge’s Six Sentence Stories challenge.
Word Prompt: Junk

Photo credit: Siora Photography via Unsplash.

Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Ye Hairy Gentlemen

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Written for Chel Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest, Class of 2020 Reunion. The task, a terrible parody of a Christmas song…

On the twelfth day of Christmas
She’ll drive a holly stake through your heart…

Cut, cut, I think we’d be safer taking this in a different direction?

doG blessed ye hairy gentlemen
You’ll be warm upon this day
Remember that the rest of us
Will be frozen until May
With razor blades we’ll come for you
And shave it all away
O shavings of back hair and Bengay

We’ll stuff the clipping into bags
And ship them on their way
To far-off Nike sweatshops
In Hong Kong and Bombay
Where they’ll stitch them all together
With labels that say “Made in U.S.A.”
O tidings from Tài Sǔn and Ganmay

And when those man-hair sweaters
Arrive upon our shores
We’ll click on over to Amazon
And buy them by the scores
We’ll wrap them up for Christmas gifts
And cold, we’ll be no more
O tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

Damn these things are scratchy,
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night…

Written for Chel Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest, Class of ’20 Reunion
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.


Tree at Nightfall
Captured on a gravel road near East Garafraxa, Ontario in the summer of 1997.
Equipment: Minolta Maxxum 800si, AF Apo Tele Zoom 100-300mm 1:4.5 (32) – 5.6
Additional processing via Adobe Lightroom/Photoshop.

Copyright 1997 / 2021 Greg Glazebrook @ GMG Photography, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Abstract
Captured in Milton, Ontario in January 2013.
Equipment: Canon EOS 60D, EF-S18-135mm f3.5-5.6 IS
Additional processing via Adobe Lightroom/Photoshop.

Copyright 2013 / 2021 Greg Glazebrook @ GMG Photography, All Rights Reserved.

Ten-Gallon Hat

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Oh, that hat,
that ten-gallon hat.
If only they knew
what could fit under that.

Up to the border,
it filled to the gills.
Just play it cool,
soon I’ll pay all my bills.

“Howdy, y’all!”
said with a drawl.
“Nothing to declare,
I’d never smuggle – the gall.”

“The jigs up,
it’s clear that you’ve lied.
Now take off that hat to reveal,
what’s hidden inside.”

Week #239 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt.
Word: Smuggle, Count: 66

Photo credit: Emily Schultz via Unsplash.

Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

A New Day

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Today.
A new day.
Starting over,
again.

It doesn’t matter.
I’ll continue,
day after day.
Hopeful,
this time will
be different.

It won’t,
I know better, but
I have to try.
If I don’t I’d be 
admitting defeat.

The sun rises –
and sets –
and rises –
and sets –

I wake up,
it’s still there.
In my chest,
in my bones.
Always there, like
background noise.

Still,
you haunt me.
I can’t,
I won’t,
let you go.

The new moon –
waxing –
full –
waning –

I close my eyes,
it’s still there.
Each heart –
beat / beat / beat
A reminder I’m
only half alive.

It should have
been me,
not you,
laid shallow (sigh)
on that hill.

The seasons –
Become years –
Strung into decades –
A lifetime –

Today.
A new day.
Starting over,
again.

Originally posted for critique at Carrot Ranch Literary Community‘s
Saddle Up Saloon: Anyone Can Poem with Chel Owens.
Photo credit: Brett Sayles via Pexels.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Terrible Poetry

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Keeping in mind I’m fairly new at this blogging and writing thing, I’m still exploring a lot of old posts and such. This week I shared a poem with Saddle Up Saloon: Anyone Can Poem with Chel Owens at the Carrot Ranch Literary Community. Well didn’t that take me down the proverbial rabbit hole eventually popping up at Week 3 of Chel Owens now defunct Terrible Poetry Contest from November 2018. She has posted some excellent content too. I highly recommend checking out her blog. Anyway, writing terrible poetry sounded way better than whatever I was getting paid to do at the office –– To my boss: I’m on lunch break, I swear! –– so I just had to give it a go. The instructions: Write a terrible haiku for the topic “Falling Snow”. So three years late, give or take, here it goes…

Terrible Haiku #1

Snowflakes falling white
Landing where I dare to walk
Pish I’ve fallen too

Terrible Haiku #2

God scratches its skin
Psoriasis falls like snow
To my waiting tongue

Photo credit: Darrell Cassell via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.