Captian's Log The Voice is Questioned 20 Jun 202620 Jun 2026 But don't you see? Why won't you see? Heaven, it's the Sabbath. It is rest. Every achievement we make, yes I understand, it is nothing. And maybe the only achievement…
Captian's Log The Voice Questions 19 Jun 202618 Jun 2026 So we come to the end of things. Another job well done between us. Bathetic. There is never any glory, any pride. Maybe it's just me. I can't feel these…
Captian's Log Teadia 7 Feb 202631 Jan 2026 Between the here and now and what will be, there is something more than we understand. As things stand, there is about a ten minute walk between the parking lot…
Captian's Log I Pray for the Rain 16 Jan 202610 Jan 2026 There is a silence in the noise; the proverbial calm within the storm's heart? They rage around me, talking over each other, promises, threats, meaningless posterings, and I am the…
Captian's Log Things that Never Were 4 Apr 2025 A sadness gripped me this week, a memory. I thought of a man, a good man, and a conversation we had. Of late, I find myself asking many "what if"…
Captian's Log What I Had Before 25 Nov 2023 The love goes out of everything, and everything is dead. Pleasure is gone, and pain won't sting, won't roust me from my bed. I want to be alive again, if…
Captian's Log Thanksgiving 2023 23 Nov 202318 Nov 2023 Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you all have a lovely holiday. It is somewhat traditional to choose some particular thing to be thankful for, and there are many blessings in my…
Captian's Log The Gargoyle 14 Nov 2023 Within a hidden nook above our heads, a vigil's kept, my chiseled guardian. Below his stony gaze, our world now spreads; his silent welcome leads and pulls me in. I…
Captian's Log Despair 6 Oct 202330 Sep 2023 You've been tailing me again, Despair, my favorite sin; how lovely you cast your shadow O unrelenting foe Whiskey drives you back for a spell, but I've too often to…
Captian's Log Short Story: Along the Shores of Gaol 6 Feb 2023 Please Read: Along the Shores of Gaol Excerpt: I find it a dreary place. There’s always a low breeze piping mournful tunes through the long grass. The sky is always grey…
Tale Told 