My (new) Left Foot

Follow me as I learn to walk with a prosthetic leg and left foot.


WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT

FAIR CONTROL My psych understood I was after “fair control,” Understand my pain will never get better. Not ever, only intensity changes. Broken up prose like this might get to be a poem but now I am waiting for four pm and my next flight of meds.I’m in wine valley, though no more for me

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Blog, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, Poems, Uncategorized, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

BELIEVE IN HUMANS EVEN IF IT’S HARDER

A SUCCESSFUL ATHEIST You have a Mennonite sounding last name. How is it possible to believe in nothing after every hymn you’ve sung verses you have memorised,  your father’s sermons; Bible stories you have heard religious paintings you have seen and seated yourself at St. Augustine’s desk  + under Menno’s  hat. (Thanks Murray Toews)  History says anything

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Blog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Poems, Preachers' Kids, This & That, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

AN INVITATION

Check www.lookshow.ca for information. Look shows my life since infancy until my recent fourth marriage, to disability advocate Michelle Hewitt,  brought me to Kelowna. Look is showing in Winnipeg in the OUTPUT venue of Video Pool in the Artspace building Opening on April 29th at 7pm, with a set of performances on May 5th beginning at 7pm.

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, MANIFESTOS, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, This & That, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

QUOTE FROM A DEAD WRITER

Writing consumes writers. No end of ones better than I am have said as much. The passion hurts relationships. I think off and on about people I love, but I think about writing all the time. Writing is hard, or everyone would do it.*  By Peter Schjeldahl.    I am feeling Quiltly (ha ha ha)

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), Blog, Family Matters, Health, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Quotations, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

PROSPECTING

The two stanzas below were found among the papers of Jimmy Bang since deceased. There are several unnamed poems which seem to be written in German or Germlish and using translation program back to English, back and forth like a really good game of horseshoes, a real kick in the pants.  I lift my match light my cigarette

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, Envoi, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Poems, This & That, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

It takes a village

UPDATED MONDAY JANUARY 31ST 2022 I had a telephone appointment with my GP this morning to review test results and look into the need for specialist follow-up from head to toe. Something like this: Head/my brain … UBCO Wellness walk-in…psychologist until psychiatrist has time for me and psychotherapy                            … neuropsychological testing

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Also posted in Blog, Health, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish | Leave a comment

Concerning Choice, Acceptance, and Disability

Author’s note: This is my story. Many people feel and think quite differently than I do. I believe it’s necessary and important to make room for diverse and multiple narratives of pain, suffering, mental illness, and disability among ourselves and visible to the public. I had a hot button pushed (of course like most I

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Also posted in Health, My Daily Fog, pain room blogish, This & That, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

FLUBBING AN INTERVIEW

I was on CBC RADIO NOON, but couldn’t “find” my words. This is really frustrating and why I call the longer essay Pieces Of My Mind, as my words and my thinking feel like scattered pieces, and yes, I’m mad as hell about it. Let me see …how about a do-over.[1] Write it out.   

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Also posted in Blog, pain room blogish, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

CLOTHES GET ON MY NERVES

BEWARE THE NAKED MAN Clothes get on my nerves. My sciatic nerve particularly. My back is degenerate, like mortal and pestle grinding my cartilage to dust. The nerves make me squeal, any waistband or belt draws the pain into my groin. Be aware of the naked man, spread-eagled on 400 thread cotton sweat shop sheets,

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Also posted in Blog, pain room blogish | Leave a comment

I Dreamed I Met Justin Trudeau

Last night I dreamed I met Prime Minister Justin Trudeau in an almost empty Winnipeg Hudson’s Bay building. I explained a problem about needing new shoes for my feet, one real, one fake. I wanted real shoes, perhaps not as fancy as his, but leather white-collar shoes, black, brown, no matter. Not sandals, not sneakers,

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Also posted in Dreams, Music for Men Over Fifty: Poems of Love and Surgery, My Daily Fog, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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