Author Archives: Robert Hubbard

Evil and The Beatles

Good morning. Breakfast is cooling and I am thinking out loud. There is a brilliant frost about the roof next door, so white and pure. The earth is tipping back toward the fun part for those of us in the northern hemisphere. We will have green again, birds again. Colour returns to Pepperland. Sigh, IContinue reading “Evil and The Beatles”

Following Suggestions

When I was young, I did not understand what death meant. Every day, I propped the still one up and offered them a plate, when I made one. I did this but they seemed to have no appetite. I would sing the name to no reply then you came by, said, “Why not place thatContinue reading “Following Suggestions”

The Pill Effect

I told the doctor that the pills weren’t working, I did not wake in a pool of my own vomit. He laughed. He said the pill effect was subtle. I thought about that. Is it not love, then… even if your heart doesn’t beat itself out of your chest?.. even if it feels more likeContinue reading “The Pill Effect”

Cuore Come Fiore

The bills are current, the bed is made. It was sunny and bright at eight, though snow stacks up in for-a-while-yet piles. It is the ‘eye’ of winter and we are still alive. When February slips under the wild days of March, what will come? I am trusting that the heart is a sturdy crocusContinue reading “Cuore Come Fiore”

My Sister Screamed Underwater

My sister screamed underwater once, years ago. We were taking swimming lessons and I remember the scene as if it were a still-life, maybe or a painting by Andrew Wyeth, though my sister’s name was Helen, not Christina. The painting I remember is done in the baked-out colours of august, where anything young or greenContinue reading “My Sister Screamed Underwater”

Might Have Been Somebody

One of the big boats is moving, about to disappear, existing not much longer at the aged horizon. You cannot see from here, but must imagine there is a whirling radar, observing, set atop her steel wheelhouse tower. On his solitary round,  a deck-hand will be making certain every ore-hatch is battened down, lest theContinue reading “Might Have Been Somebody”

January 15, 2025

Dear goodness. I can spend the entire day doing little of consequence and yet…. the moment my head hits the bamboo fibre pillowcase, I fill my ‘trying to empty’ reservoir with a series of brilliant things to say. The words flow. The ideas shine. Yes, Yes… I started the process of falling asleep a fewContinue reading “January 15, 2025”