Philip Gaber > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

a dream’s gotta say something or it’s not wort..

A Story by Philip Gaber

I went to a shrink. He told me I was half crazy. I asked him for a prescription. He thought about it and gave me one. But when I reached t..

a quiet neurotic bedtime

A Poem by Philip Gaber

Nana stood by the picture window, staring out into the thickening fog. “The day I was born,” she said.“I’m sure I sig..

catching heartbreaking glimpses of our lives

A Poem by Philip Gaber

i Sitting at my desk, staring blankly at the empty page in a typewriter. I light a bidi, pour a drink, scratch an itch, rub the tension from my f..

fifty-five years too late for the village thing

A Poem by Philip Gaber

over the dark bay

A Poem by Philip Gaber

I got high, looked to the sky, saw my mother cry and the sun refused to shine. The skies turned black and it began to snow. I ..

this bewailing cry

A Poem by Philip Gaber

The phone rings; somebody on the other end wants to know when I will visit them.I’m so distracted I mutter, “Haven’t been myself lat..

nothing to divide

A Poem by Philip Gaber

In those days, the prevailing attitude toward Wiley Ouellette was that he was a fascist, not a socialist. However, he swore up and down that he was ap..

the clichés stopped when i was drunk

A Story by Philip Gaber

I headed for The Open Flask, a little dive I frequent whenever I feel like overdosing on expired prescription medication. The owner was a semi-acq..

the bubble dancer

A Story by Philip Gaber

I've worked odd jobs with bizarre people, but that first job was a doozy.There was a little fish restaurant called The Captain's Cabin that had been t..

struggles and rebellion

A Poem by Philip Gaber

They say good writing comes from the unconscious. Who knows where the hell this is coming from? This was told to me while I was reading a lot of novel..