You have my summers, My pre-school years, And all the baby moments Still trapped behind ears. Broad fingers giving illusions That your hands are big, Fit for holding A baby. You say I was one Once. An angel. Hands to hold an angel. But I came in to hug you Now, then, not long at … Continue reading Grandpa
My love, You were raised with your father's ideals but by your mother's pragmatism. When talents first bud upon your hands, you clapped for joy and squished them between your palms, making room for more, but not height for growth. My love, You spy the light on the other side with delight, for look, a … Continue reading Wet Wings
I was once told by a yoga instructor that every man only has a max of ten original thoughts, with the average being five or six. Every thought can be traced back to those originals, and outside of that we don't get any new thoughts. I've since wondered about my own thoughts and tried to … Continue reading The Ten Original Thoughts
What if I did give up? What if I just wrote my stories and put them wherever and forget about getting known or making money? What if I just gave up on making a career out of it? I hate selling things anyways, and I hate marketing even more. If people want my story, I'm … Continue reading When I’ve Reached “There”
Raising a three-year-old, and children in general I suspect, is a lot like having an unmedicated bi-polar disorder. One minute you're filled to the brim with warm, fuzzy love that would throw you in front of a semi-truck for the sake of this child. The next, you're the semi-truck out to coat your grill in … Continue reading Pee and the Best Bi-Polar Disorder
Back when I was 17, after I had just moved in with the father I barely knew, I would go running in the mornings during the free hour in-between the 6am Seminary and school. I'd pull on my old dance pants, my sports bra, and an old gym shirt and run around the track in … Continue reading Track Worms
He thinks if he expresses how much he doesn't like me it will stop me from trying to be a good mom. Oh, my precious baby, I ache for the feel of a soft little head beneath my chin, and little fingers clasped about my own. They were my moments to worship you. Little, soft … Continue reading I don’t like you, Mom
Catskin By T.S. Lowe Chapter 1: Athena Goddess Athena wanted a brother more than anything else. "But you do have a brother," said her favorite maid, whose disfigured face and body betrayed the kind soul underneath. "What? Where?" Her five year old mind couldn't quite get to the question of, if she had a … Continue reading Catskin
Author T.S. Lowe 