April 17, 2024 On ‘Daylight’ Time I type and one word catches another’s tail as the other passes quickly,underway to Wordsend.Wordsend stands as a high cliff above,watching the place that is no place,found in every place…staring blunt into that place where all is bound.That end place is one which words may not describe.It is aContinue reading “On ‘Daylight’ Time”
Author Archives: Robert Hubbard
Elizabeth and the Witness
Elizabeth and The Witness A tentative, “Hello?”she heard.Elizabeth looked up slowat first repeat of the same word. Knitting to pattern andeager for five minutes break,she rose with the help of one hand,while another massaged a back-ache. Above her head, she could discernthat through the transom came a glowof something interesting to learn,about which, she justContinue reading “Elizabeth and the Witness”
March Twenty-Third
While I sat, considering,a one thousand-footer traversedtwo-thirds my far horizon.It is empty, up bound forore,and birds hang aboutagain. Can anyone saywhat is heaven,where is God, whoor what makes a miracle? From Lords and leaders,hear weexpectations of the end,some write their salutations,bendany willing earto hear the guillotine hit,as mask and wig tumbletoward the pitand disappear. IContinue reading “March Twenty-Third”
Squirrel On a Fence Post
I am that so grey squirrel,paused on a fence post. Rough dogs are busywith carrionof sorts,which gives me time fora warm ray,and twitching. Spring is not yet herebut will arrive,in time,by whatever egregious meansit must,so,too,with armageddon. I withdraw my sharpenedclaws a moment,wounding onlythis leftover and dried doughnut,from a grease-shack’s kitchen waste,found,down the street. This,is whatContinue reading “Squirrel On a Fence Post”
Enough to Deal With
We have enough to deal withdon’t we?cruel rain and cloud and knife andbullet,priest and politician.Somewhat the same istrue for wolf and bear,alwayshungry and thirsty andwalking somewhere. Fine castles built,long summer’s gathering,a saviour ark,these may give the driest tinder heartjust a moment’sflint-struckspark.We have enough to deal with,don’t we?
The Little Black Dress
The Little Black Dress Just out of reachin a shop window,discreet,one teasing design’sperfection. I am huge,her heart says,and incomplete,without the basic black dressI’m told a wardrobe needs. The deeper she studies an innocent reflection, so greater becomes her restless irritation, until she, resigned, repeats: “Is there no measure,no sort of tapeto offer kind assessmentand aContinue reading “The Little Black Dress”
What Chapter Are You Reading?
Deft fingers, light puffs of breezelift familiar pagestoward a sun’s benign interrogationwhen readers,for one moment,abandon the book,turn away to fill that cupat another faucetspout. Forever, curious eyesfind the story,someplace forward, perhapsback, it is dependenton luck or God. Meanwhile,excited light bombardstoday, dusting our shroudwith a blue under which,visible movements of leafand worm are lies,teasing that timeContinue reading “What Chapter Are You Reading?”
Trying to Keep Upright
It is slapstick comical,this furious winterslippy day.Folks are looking back quickto see ifsomeone else saw…they are embarrassed,as the single moment uprightteetered towarda fall. It doesn’t look good out there. I’ll stay inside awhile,where restless power is hummingand we’ve marmaladeon toast,a little something warmthat isn’t blood. “So lucky,”they say and I am lucky, I guess,my birthdateContinue reading “Trying to Keep Upright”
That Force Which Through The Green Fuse
(January 18, 2024) Outside,puffed birds are actingcrazy today.Perhapsthey have a temporary blindnessgranted themby whichever, whomever forcecan offer kindness on the one hand as antidote for icy truthheld in another.Maybe the flappersare simple, foolish, joyful?stamping wings the way I would feetto get warm? I am glad the long grasswent to seed,the berries to dry.My ordinary procrastinationContinue reading “That Force Which Through The Green Fuse”
The Smallish Artist
December 10 2023 Someday, I will truly understand where I belong, what I should and shouldn’t say in public and whose opinions and actions I should pay attention to. In the meantime, I just say what I like and hope I have good sense. I do care what the world thinks. Perhaps too much. IContinue reading “The Smallish Artist”
Robert On The Air 