Search
Close this search box.

Category: Story Telling

Categories
Archives

Things My Mother Taught Me

“Never trust a man, Hina. They’re all scum.” I was nine years old when my mother first said this to me. She had failed yet again to secure a divorce from my father in Pakistan—her second attempt at doing so. The first time she tried, I was five and remember the day we came back

Read More »

Haunted Bride

Alone I stand in a dark graveyard Bodies lay still but there are no souls I walk alone without my heart Can’t fill these empty wormholes How can anyone say she didn’t matter She was everything to me Selling their soul is what they’d rather Married into a portal to hell on earth I’m born

Read More »

A Riff on Changing Times (for Norma West Linder)

shorts and sandals on a hot October day 30.1 degrees Celsius this is a riff on changing times on changing ways on changing days salmon are jumping and people are oohing the weir too high, they spawn and die the water runs swift like the beat of a riff cormorants soar while cascades roar susurrant,

Read More »

In Memory of My Memory

In Memory of My Memory Okay, so this happened on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Wait… Was it Monday? What day is it? It was Sunday. Yes, it was Sunday because Sunday means I get to drive up north and say hi to the maple trees. I like trees. They are nice neighbours. They are always standing

Read More »

“it was the land”

https://youtu.be/DAP59RPZoMg *Shorter version: https://youtu.be/iZ1Q9J4EBIw *Written in honour of the many children who never returned home from residential schools in Canada. “it was the land” by pj johnson Poet Laureate of the Yukon. it was the land no one knew the evil men could do behind closed doors no one spoke of it no one said

Read More »

untitled: the monkeys in the wallpaper are oddly silent

the monkeys in the wallpaper are oddly silent slipping among shadows of jungle palms in the night as we sleep unaware under our canopied beds and bed becomes forest floor under leaf canopy and the forest softly creeps into the dusky space as we sleep unaware under our canopied beds dream of dawn and a

Read More »

Thoughts of Fear

Fear could be a monster under your bed A scary movie Stuck in your head Fear could be trying something new The one opportunity That’s only up to you Fear could be no money in the account Bills to pay, mouths to feed But no dollar amount Fear could be not wanting to be alone

Read More »

A Shy Girl

Restless night, I lie awake, jitters for what tomorrow brings Morning rush, a bite of food, not nearly enough to sink in A new dress and shoes, my book bag full, but I’m left empty still this time Will they see me as I want, or will I just blend in? New faces smiling, others

Read More »
Scroll to Top