Welcome To My Blog

 

To help you select the stories and poetry you might want to read, below is the list of all posts made to my blog since its inception. Posts are listed in chronological order from the first post made on April 18, 2019, until the most recent post (The most recent post appears first on the blog). Please browse the list of posts to find the titles that most intrigue you. Then do one of the following:

 

1.         Place the title of the post in the space beneath the header, “Search This Blog.” With regard to poetry, a post may contain more than one poem. You may have to insert the first two poems listed to find what you want. Then click on search. The posting should appear at the top of the screen for you to read. Or . . .

 

2.         Using the date a particular posting was made, go to the “Blog Archive” to the right of the posts and click on the particular month in which the poem or short story was posted and scroll down until you find what you would like to read. Please note that if you scroll through all the posts on the screen and don’t find what you are looking for, below the last post on the screen, on the right, are the words, “Older Posts.” Click on this and you will find the additional posts made during the particular month you have selected. Scroll through these until you find the story or poem you wish to read.

 

Enjoy the journey, as you read the creations of my heart and my mind.

 

Thank you.

 

Alan

Alan Lowe
Poet and Writer

slolowe@icloud.com

https://slolowe44.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

 

Life can be complicated and confusing. You question who is in charge.

You wonder where you are and how you got there. And then you are told that you are forever . . .

 

 

Under My Influence

 

     I sat on the couch, with my feet propped up on the ottoman, in my living room in my home in Diablo Valley. I’d fallen asleep, I think. Everything was blurry. Then I thought I heard a voice. But how could that be? I was alone.

     “What the hell do you want?” I asked, in a not so kind tone.

     “You.” The voice stated.

     “You want me? What for?”

     “For all you’ve done.”

     “For all I’ve done? What does that mean?”

     “You really don’t know, do you?”

     “No. I have absolutely no idea.”

     “Sit back then, and I’ll tell you your story.”

     “You’re going to tell me what?”

     “Your story. In its entirety.”

     My eyes scanned the room. It was empty. Everything was still. Am I going crazy?

     “No, you’re not. Just relax and follow my lead.”

     “Follow your lead? To where?”

     “Back, then forward. Inside, then out.”

     “This isn’t making any sense.”

     “Be quiet. It’ll all come together.”

     I shook my head, thinking I could make this ridiculousness disappear. And I heard nothing more. Good. I’m back to normal, I thought.

     “Normal? That’s a stretch. I don’t believe anybody would characterize you as normal.”

     “This has got to stop. Come out and show yourself to me.”

     ”Why? You know who I am.”

     “No, I don’t.”

     “Think back twenty-six years.”

     “Huh? Why?”

     “Your beginning.”

     “Are you saying that’s when I was born?”

     “Yes, that’s right. And I was there.”

     “You were?”

     “I was in the hospital room. You were a cute little thing. And I wanted you.”

     “But you didn’t get me. My parents took me home and raised me. At least my mother did. She told me my father wasn’t around much. He was too busy.”

     “Took you home, yes, Raised you, not really.”

     “You’re confusing me. I lived with them until I was eighteen. They loved me and cared for me. Didn’t they?”

     “For your body, maybe. For your mind, up to a point. For your soul—not at all.”

     “My, God! What are you saying?”

     “Please don’t bring him into this.”

     “Hell, it’s getting awfully warm in here.”

     “So you do know where you are.”

     “I’m in my home.”

     “No, you’re in my home.”

     “Then please turn down the heat. I can’t handle it. The sweat is running down my face.”

     “You’ll get used to it.”

     “Why would I want to?”

     “To be comfortable in your new home.”

     “My what!” I screamed.

     “Calm down. You’ll wake the dead.”

     “This isn’t real. You’re just messing with my head.”

     “If you mean getting your head straight, then yes.”

     “If what you’re saying is that I have to believe this is real, then you’re crazy.”

     All of a sudden the lights in the room began to blink. I had no idea what was happening or what to do next. And then, I heard a shrill voice.

     “Julian, are you up yet? You’re going to be late for school.”

     “Late for what?”

     “School!”

     “Who are you?” 

     “Are you kidding me? I’m your mother and you’re my sixteen-year-old son.”

     “Sixteen years old. No way. I’m twenty-six and this is my house.”

     “No, you’re not twenty-six. And this is our family home. Have you been taking drugs again? Have you lost your mind?”

     “Drugs? I’ve never taken drugs.”

     “Don’t listen to her, Julian. You belong to me now,” the voice stated.

     “Why are you back? You’re not real. I don’t need you. And I’m only sixteen.”

     “You do need me. I am your forever,” the voice chanted.

     “Not anymore.”

     “Good boy! Stand up to him. He doesn’t control you. I’m your mother, You’ll do as I say, you little twerp.”

     “If you’re my mother, why are you calling me names?”

     “Don’t question me, wimp.”

     “What did I do to deserve this?

     “You made her disappear,” the voice said.

     “Your saying, I left home.”

     “No, I’m saying you did away with her, when you were sixteen. Now she is rotting in a world of eternal damnation. And you made it happen.”

     “I killed her?”

     “Hm. Not exactly.”   

     “What in hell does that mean?”

     “You’ll see. The voice stated, in a very different manner—a way that made me feel safe.”

     “Am I still in . . .”

     “You were in a living hell, but not today. And now, you are forever ‘Under My Influence.’”

     There, standing before me, a statuesque figure, clad in a white suit and bright blue tie, spoke, “Believe in me my child. You’ve been to Hell and back. I am your savior. Please, bow your head in reverence. 

     “Yes, . . . Father,” I murmured.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Growing up can be challenging. Sometimes answers to questions may be hard to find.

 

We pray youngsters avoid the mistakes we made. We watch with love and encouragement, as . . .

 

 

Children Travel Life’s Roads

 

Children play with delight in their eyes.

Parents watch with love and pride.

Beautiful memories, a wonderful prize,

With dreams of a bright future across horizons wide.

 

Adventures ahead, achievements to be made.

Youngsters age, as they sail across life’s sky.

New mountains to climb, dreams unlikely to fade.

Mysteries before them, they question why.

 

Adorable creatures test the waters carefully.

Challenges await them—some cause joy, others fear.

However, the risks are worth accomplishing what is meant to be,

With parents in their corner filling their lives with cheer.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Childhood can be difficult. The world does not always accept who you are or who you want to be.

 

You try to break the mold, but success may be hard to come by, as is the case with . . .

 

 

Zuly Truly

 

     The names we choose for our children can have a great impact on their lives. Such is the case in the life of Zuly Truly.

     Saddled with a weird name, Zuly had no choice but to hide from the world around her. Picked on by her classmates, she buried herself in her studies and was labeled a geek. 

     As a geek, she didn’t always fit in. The in-crowd rejected her. And her homelife wasn’t easy. Adopted at the age of two, her mean stepparents and two cruel stepbrothers made her life quite uncomfortable. In spite of her less than perfect childhood, Zuly grew into a beautiful, smart, and likeable young woman.

     Although likeable, she was very lonely. She wanted to be appreciated and accepted by others, but it was a challenge for her to step out in public and attempt to socialize. However, she did believe in herself and felt she could become a respected person. 

     Still, she needed to address the pressing question, “What can I, a woman with both inner strength and outer beauty, do to escape my hellish upbringing?”

     When all was said and done, the bottom line was that she was a thoughtful, caring individual. And she had high ambitions for a successful life. She dreamed of what she could do to help others. However, she still needed to muster up the courage to gain the support of the likes of people who had rejected her. They controlled her life and made her feel imprisoned in a cage from which she could not escape. And all the time, she felt as if she was being watched.

     But today, she was inspired to begin life anew. As she sat alone in her apartment, her mind wandered in and out. I’ve got to make this happen, she thought. But how was another matter.

     As she pondered what her next move would be, the phone rang. She reached over and picked it up. “Hello,” she said.

     “May I speak to Ms. Truly?”

     “This is Ms. Truly.”

     “Ms. Truly, my name is Simply Simon.”

     Hearing this, she begin to chuckle, but held the laugh back. “What can I do for you, Mr. Simon?”

     “It’s not what you can do for me. It is what I can do for you.”

     “What you can do for me?”

     “That’s right.”

     Confused, she didn’t know how to respond.

     “Are you still there, Ms. Truly?”

     “Yes,” she stuttered. “I’m listening. You said you can do something for me. What would that be?”

     “I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Could we meet somewhere and talk?”

     “Why not do it on the phone? I don’t know who you are or what you want from me.”

     “Relax, Ms. Truly, I’m not the enemy. I have your best interests in mind.”

     “But you don’t know me.”

     “But I do.”

     Zuly thought for a brief moment before responding. “Okay, I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon, at the Nickel and Dime Café on the corner of Primary Road and Precision Ave.”

     “Obviously you believe in the basics and have a precise picture of how things should go.”

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

     “I think we’ve said enough for now. See you tomorrow at noon.”

     “Please wait. How will I know who you are?”

     “It’s simple. You won’t, but I, Simply Simon, will know you. Good-bye.”

     Totally mystified by this conversation, Zuly stared off into space. Do I dare do this? she thought.

     The next morning, the sun shined through the bedroom window. Zuly rubbed the sleep from her eyes, rolled out of bed, and prepared for the meeting she wasn’t sure she wanted to have. “I guess it’s time,” she muttered. Grabbing a light coat, she exited her apartment and made her way to the café.

     As she entered, a handsome man approached her. Well, she thought, this may go better than I expected.

     “Are you Ms. Truly?” he asked.

     “Yes, I am, Mr. Simon,” she responded with a broad smile on her face.

     “Uh, I’m not Mr. Simon. I’m Lyle Smiles, the café manager.”

     “So sorry, Mr. Smiles, but . . .”

     “No apology needed. A young man was here earlier. He asked me to give you this note.”

     “But how did you know who I was?”

     “He described you perfectly.”

     That’s scary, she thought. She took the note from Mr. Smiles, said, “Thank you,” and sat down at a table for two in the corner of the shop.

     She stared at the note, fearing what Mr. Simon might have written. She sucked in a breath of air and opened the missive and read . . .

     “Dear Zuly, I have been an ardent admirer of yours for many years. I have monitored your every move, but didn’t have the guts to let you know I wanted you in my life. Today was my golden opportunity to get what I always wanted—you. But once again, I didn’t have the courage. So I must force you back into the cage from which you have been trying to escape. You are mine and nothing you do will change that." The letter was signed, “Yours, ‘Truly,’ now and forever.”

     Zuly dropped the letter on the table. Having no clue what to do next, tears rolled down her face. Then she looked up and stared into the warm, beautiful eyes of Lyle Smiles.

     “May I help you,” he asked.

     She replied, “Yes,” for she now believed she would have a chance for a better future, as she basked in the light of his smile.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

When you are given a name that makes you stand out, it may portend what your future will be.

You may use it in a way to realize your dreams, as you will see in . . .

 

 

Ima Cooley

 

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He tested the patience of his peers.

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He screeched in everyone’s ears.

 

Ima Cooley was unruly,

He caused his teachers to lose control.

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He wanted to be the boss, which was not his role.

 

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He believed he was the man.

Ima Cooley was unruly.

For those around him, he had a mean plan.

 

Ima Cooley was unruly.

When he grew up, he knew what he wanted to be.

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He pushed and shoved in a way all could see.

 

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He became a famous person of note.

Ima Cooley was unruly.

He gave you no choice, but to give him your vote.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Routine tasks may become more complicated than they should. They can turn into something you didn’t expect.

 

You make plans, but then your wife tells you . . .

 

 

He’s My . . .

 

     Summer had just begun. The heat was unbearable. I sat at my desk, on Friday morning, staring at the calendar on my iMac. I’ve got to get the cars serviced, I thought. So I called and made an appointment for the following Friday.

     Friday arrived. I got up early, went into the kitchen for some juice, and called to Jane. “Jane let’s go. We’re going to be late for our 9:30 am appointment at the car dealership.”

     “I’m coming. I’ve got to get the tennis shoes I need to return to the Shoe Emporium at the mall.”

     “Does that take priority over getting the cars serviced?” She didn’t respond, and . . .

     “My cars going in first. Right?”

     “Yeah. Right.”

     “And we’re going to Madeleine’s Café for breakfast while they work on my car?”

     “That’s the plan, as we’ve always done. Then they’ll service my car.”

     “So after my car is finished, Don, I’m going to the mall.”

     “But what about me?”

     “You? What about you? You’ll just wait in the waiting area for your car to be finished.”

     “But what if it takes longer than I want it to?”

     “Then go with me to the mall.”

     “I don’t want to go to the mall. I want to go home and watch the baseball game. It starts at noon. Then the dealership will call me when my car is ready and you can drive me back to get it.”

     “What am I, your chauffeur?”

     “Well, no. But I thought you were my kind, loving wife.”

     “I was, but I’m not your servant.”

     “Was? You’re impossible, Jane.”

     “And you’re unreasonable, Don. Maybe it’s time for a divorce.”

     “Divorce? We’ve been married twenty-nine years. How can you think about a divorce?”

     “If not a divorce, will you give me a raise?”

     “A raise? You don’t work for me.”

     “I don’t? I’ll show you my job description.”

     “Job what?”

     “You heard me—job description—that is, cook, maid, waitress, seamstress, and sex provider . . .”

     “Sex what?”

     “Provider, my dear.”

     “I thought you enjoyed our bed fun.”

     “No comment.”

     “No . . . comment?”

     “That’s right.”

     “This conversation is getting out of hand, Jane.”

     “Then talk to my lawyer.”

     “You’re not serious, are you?”

     “Here’s his card?”

     “How long have you been seeing him?”

     “For over for six months.”

     “You’re kidding. Why so long?”

     “He’s my . . . sex provider!”

     

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Marriage is meant to be forever. But in many cases, it doesn’t last.

I felt I knew what to do. I had to be sure  . . .

 

 

You Heard, You Saw, And You Believed

 

I thought you heard, you saw, and you believed.

But by my very words, you were not deceived.

In truth, I wanted to tell you what I’d done.

However, I knew trying to do so wouldn’t be fun.

I wanted to run, but stood frozen in place.

Then I saw a smirk upon your face.

You looked me straight in the eyes,

And told me my cheating was no surprise.

You said your lawyer would be in touch with me

And our marriage and my money would be history.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Relationships have their ups and downs. Sometimes you must make extraordinary efforts to make them work.

 

You ask your significant other for clarification so you can make things right. But the answer you get is bewildering: . . .

 

 

Do I Need To Say Anything More?

 

“Oh dear!” I screamed at my wife.

“I’m not sure what to do with the rest of my life.”

“Well,” she responded, “You’ll always have me as your partner in crime.”

“So, does that mean if I get caught, you’ll do the time?”

“Blame rests on both our shoulders, so if you’ll go along, that will be fine.”

“And if I don’t, will you out me to the cops, so the light in my world will no longer shine?”

 

“You’ll get what you deserve, my forever husband, the man of my dreams.”

“What I deserve is your complete faith in me, but you’re wavering, it seems.”

“You’ll have my faith, but first you must earn my trust.”

“So let me know how I need to behave, so I can do what I must.”

“You have to be perfect in every way and always walk a straight line.

I’ll draft an agreement you’ll have to sign.”

 

“I can’t believe what you’re saying and it makes absolutely no sense to me.”

“Then maybe our future together is clouding over and is not meant to be.”

“How can you say that? We’ve been married for more than twenty-five years.”

“Then agree to all my terms and conditions and don’t shed any tears.”

“But why does it always have to be your way?

Sometimes you have to listen to what I have to say.”

 

“What you have to say no longer plays a part in what I believe.”

“But we agreed to this relationship for better or worse, so don’t I deserve a reprieve?”

“A reprieve? Is that some sought of joke, when you did what you did to me?”

“Did what I did to you? I don’t know what you’re talking about? What can that be?”

“Look at my dead body lying on the floor by the door.

Do I need to say anything more?”

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

You find the one to make your life whole again. But do you have the courage to make it happen?

 

Is this the right time? You think . . .

 

I Have So Much To Prove

 

You look at me in way that makes me quiver.

I stand in awe, as if on the bank of a mighty river.

I want to approach you, but choose not to do so.

It is my choice and, right of wrong, I don’t know.

You flash a smile that makes me think I have a chance.

Should I leap into the unknown to find romance?

Worlds apart, we are different in every way.

My mind is mush, words buried within, I don’t know what to say.

So I bow my head and pray for the courage to make the right move.

Having failed many times before, I have so much to prove.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Trust is a trait leaders should exemplify. But when you listen to their words, what you hear is not always what you see.

 

When trust is broken, the head of the pack may have to face being . . .

 

 

Defeated

 

When the last bell rings, the last words spoken,

Time has run out, an oath broken.

When the crowd before you believes you lied,

With your actions and words they you defied.

A leader, you broke the trust of everyone.

Now you have to pay the price for what you’ve done.

Bow your head in shame and walk away.

It is no longer your right to serve today.

When the last bell rings, the last words spoken,

Time has run out, an oath broken.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.