The truth of the matter is . . .

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

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/

Is it real or just a dream? Life can be confusing.

Questions drift through your mind. Answers are hard to find. You wonder if you can awaken from . . .

The Dream

I stood at the stove in our home on Marvelous Lane, as Nancy entered the kitchen. She looked at me and smirked.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” she murmured.

“I had a weird dream last night,” I said, as I poured a cup of morning tea. I cherished the tea, as it was a cold autumn day and I was shivering.

“What was it about, Tony?” she asked, with a lilt in her voice.

“I don’t know if you can handle it if I tell you.”

“Try me.”

I hesitated before responding. “Are you sure you’re up to hearing this?”

“If you keep stalling, I won’t be, because it’ll be bedtime.”

“Okay, sit down.”

She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and collapsed into it. “All right, I’m seated. Are you going to join me?” she asked, as she stared at me, wondering what this was all about.

With my cup of tea in hand, I shuffled over to the table and sat down across from her. I remained speechless.

“Well, are you going to say anything?” she requested.

“I’m not sure how to start,” I muttered.

“I presume from the beginning. Wouldn’t you?”

“But there was no beginning.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you. I’ve got to go.”

“No, ‘Mr. I’ve Got Something To Tell You,’ you’re not going anywhere.”

She glared at me as if I’d committed a crime. I bowed my head in shame.

“I’m waiting.”

“All right, but don’t hate me.”

“Hate you? I love you, or I wouldn’t put up with your bizarre antics.”

I got up from the table and started walking out of the room. I looked back and . . .

“Where are you going?” Nancy asked, confused.

“To set the stage.”

“For what?”

“The dream.” I pulled the blinds down and shut off the lights, leaving us in total darkness.

“This is not making me comfortable. Can’t we have a little light.”

“No! Dreams occur in the dark.”

“Are you coming back?”

“All in good time.” I wasn’t sure I knew what I was doing, but I had to do it.

“Are you comfortable with this?” my soft inner voice whispered.

“I don’t know. Do you have another suggestion?”

“Let me think.”

“Think. That’s how you always avoid facing the inevitable.”

“Well, you can’t do it without me, so you’re just going to have to follow my lead.”

“What lead? This is getting ridiculous.”

Do I dare share my dream with Nancy? How will she react to what I have to say? I thought. I can’t keep her waiting in the dark. I’ve got to go back.

“Are you awake yet?” the inner me chimed.

“You mean I’m still asleep?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. And you know you’ve never been married.”

“But she’s in the kitchen waiting for me. We’ve been together seventeen years.”

“Yeah, since you were born.”

“But I’m thirty-seven.”

“In your dreams you are?”

“This is not real. It’s all a dream.”

“Did you ask her to the homecoming dance?”

“Homecoming dance?”

“The one in December. She is the girl of your dreams, after all.”

“Oh, my! I’ve got to wake up! I screamed.

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

Some things happen that are unexplainable, so I had to seek professional help.

Although I did, it was taking longer to fix the problem than I wanted it to,

and I believed . . .

My Marriage Is Falling Apart

Growing up, I was told marriages should last forever. You must do

what is right.

My parents’ marriage lasted sixty-one years, and until “death do us part,”

they held each other tight.

My marriage was strong and I wore the ring on my finger with pride.

The sun shined most weekends, as I took my morning walk,

with my wife by my side.

Now don’t get me wrong, my relationship was not absent of flaws.

We did have our disagreements, which sometimes included

the slamming of doors.

However, we followed a mostly straight path and raised two children,

who we loved and adored.

As we aged, we retired and tried to keep busy—playing cards, going

to the movies and plays, and out to dinner, so we wouldn’t get bored.

However, even the best partnership can suddenly come apart, no matter

how hard you try.

My ring finger began to hurt in a way I couldn’t believe, and I couldn’t find

the reason why.

Was this a signal that something in my marriage was going wrong?

And how should I tell my wife?

I wanted to ignore what was happening, but, if I did, it could mess up

my life.

Then one day, when I was out and about, I felt a weird sensation

in my left hand.

I stared at my fingers and noticed I had a spiral hook stabbing me

from my two-tiered wedding band.

In disbelief, I knew I had to make this right, so I headed to my town’s

closest jewelry store.

I entered, and a smiling salesperson asked, “What can I do for you?

We sell beautiful jewelry, watches, statues, and more.

With a tear in my eye, I moaned, “I need your help. I believe my marriage

is falling apart.”

She looked at me, in a somewhat confused way, and said, “I’m not sure

what I can do, but I don’t want to break your heart.”

I thrust my hand in front of her face, displaying one tier of the ring around

my finger, with the other now standing straight up like a knife.

It’s been over a month now, they haven’t fixed my ring, my marriage is still

falling apart, and I don’t know what to tell my wife.

Monday, September 8, 2025

You want to understand the reality of the situation. However, this may not be easy to do.

This troubles you. So you try to find the answer . . .

In The News Today

I sat at the kitchen table scanning the articles in the Sunday paper. Most were about how our new president had done this, that, or something else I had trouble understanding. But politics has never been my love, so I just pushed what I’d seen into the back of my mind.

Looking out the window, I wondered about the weather, as my wife and I were planning to take a drive in the country this afternoon. But the weather information wasn’t in the paper. I went through every section, most not worth reading beyond the headline, and couldn’t find it. I muttered, “Dammit, our paper keeps getting smaller, but more costly.”

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. What I saw blew my mind—speech bubbles drifting across the room.

“You wanted news, so that’s what will give you. Okay, Lionel, you may begin.”

“Today is a day you’ll never forget. Buckle up for the road is going to be bumpy.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Where was this coming from, I thought.

“This is what you wanted? Isn’t it?”

“Holy crap, are you reading my mind?”

“Isn’t that what a good reporter does?”

This isn’t happening. I must’ve dozed off, I believed. I’m dreaming.

“If you were dreaming, it would be about girls in bikinis. You seem to think about that a lot.”

I began to shake. How did he know this?

I got up from the table and walked into the hallway. “Oh, crap, the bubbles are following me,” I mumbled.

“Yes, I am. You haven’t given me a chance to tell the story.”

“What? That a storm is coming, and we shouldn’t go for a drive in the country? You can’t be serious.”

“If it were that simple, you would have found it on page four of the paper.”

“What if I want to end this now—and forever?”

“Just call the paper. But nobody’s going to answer. You have a lifetime subscription.”

“I have a what?”

“If you live? We live with you?”

“This is a joke? Right?”

“If my humor was that good, I’d be on stage and not stuck in some godforsaken windowless office.”

“So, if I believe you, then what’s the rest of the story?”

There was no response. And then . . .

The headline read, “TODAY WE CELEBRATE THE LIVES OF HARRIS AND MARIE WYKOFF. These two wonderful people died on the somewhat bumpy highway of life last Sunday afternoon.”

Friday, August 29, 2025

Marriage can be an uphill battle. You try to fix the problems, but sometimes nothing works.

Mending fences can be a challenge, even when . . .

You’re Such A Tool

My wife sat at the kitchen table and looked at me in disgust. To her, I could do nothing right.

She, on the other hand, walked life’s road in complete control and never backed down from a good fight.

One morning I came in from the garage and groaned, “I think I wrenched my back.”

She replied, “Why is today any different than all the others? You’re always traveling down the wrong track.”

Three days later, I came home late from work and complained about being screwed over by my boss.

She looked at me in disgust and said, “You never handle anything well and that’s your loss.”

A month later, I decided to ply our life together and took her to a nice restaurant to dine.

However, the food was cold, the service awful, and they were out of fine wine.

“You never do anything the way it should be done,” she drilled into me, with a weird look on her face.

I felt like the bit had entered my heart, as I moaned, “But I thought that restaurant would be a great place.”

Our world seemed to be going down the drain, with a plunger sucking the love from my life.

I asked, “What can I do to make this right? How do I dig out from the muck and overcome this strife?”

She replied, “Use your shovel and clear the mess you’ve made and maybe there’s a chance we can straighten this out.”

“But I’ve fought hard to make us work, so what more can I do?” I thought, I don’t want to lose another bout.

I pleaded, “I feel like I’m being raked over the coals and treated like a fool.”

“Oh, my God! How did I deserve you. I can’t believe you’re such a tool.”

Tuesday, August 26, 2025

Life has its twists and turns and can be confusing. Navigating this sometimes bumpy road can provide us with food for thought.

We seek clarity. Such may be found in . . .

Mia Pasta

The Tuesday night meeting of the Pasta City Council opened with flair.

Seven members assembled, sat with pride, and received recognition from those there.

Mayor Andrew Fettuccine, tall and smooth, at times could be quite a meany.

He called the meeting to order and frowned and glared at Harry Linguine.

Mr. Linguine, long, thin, and flat-chested, bowed to his honor with a weird grin.

What he’d done that afternoon in a pool of hot water might be considered a sin.

Maria Ziti, had been there and was invited to join him, but rejected his invite,

They had been romantically involved at one point, but she broke it off, believing it wasn’t right.

With a smile on her face, Penne Rigatoni, a child from a mixed marriage, yelled, “Let’s get this meeting started.”

Marco Vermicelli, holding his flat belly, announced his presence, spun around, and farted.

Mayor Fettuccine banged the gavel as loud as he could to get the attention of his crew, but this didn’t sit well with Carlo Macaroni.

He looked at the Mr. Mayor in way that made him shake, and shouted, “You’re nothing but a phony.”

Things seemed to be getting out of control when a somewhat screwed up guy made his presence known.

Antonio Fusilli, Vice Mayor, reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Yes, please send her in. We’re ready to hear her request to fulfill her wish.”

Hearing this, the council members looked in awe, as entering the meeting was a beautiful dish.

On this hot summer day, she was baked to perfection, an utter delight.

Mia Spaghetti, wiggled in a way that made all believe granting her wish was right.

Thursday, August 14, 2025

People dream of becoming wealthy, as it will shape their lives in the way they desire.

But money is not the only way to accomplish the dream. There are other ways to determine if . . .

You’re Rich

Wealth comes in many forms, shapes, and sizes.

It can occur when least expected, so be aware and enjoy the prizes.

Partnerships form that provide togetherness and love.

Matches made in heaven, richness endowed from above.

Then, as parents-to-be, you embrace the good fortune of having a child.

As your children grow, a house full of precious love can drive you wild.

Education fills your brain with a wealth of information that enriches your mind.

You watch your children travel through life, their growth and development makes

them one of a kind.

Successful at a job, you enjoy and appreciate, helps you thrive.

Living each day without losing sight of your dream puts a smile on your face

and keeps you alive.

Good health, a good fortune, a priceless achievement to value with all your heart.

Aging with grace, in a life of your own making, places you high on wealth’s chart.

Friday, July 25, 2025

You try to plan your life so you have control. However, this may not be easy to do.

You wake up each morning with certain expectations, but find that . . .

Life Is Full Of Surprises

Snow falls outside my window, on a dreary winter day.

Flakes dance through the air, as if performing on stage.

People, with scarves draped around their necks, prance down the street.

Then a snowball comes out of nowhere and hits a passing car.

Life is full of surprises.

Children come out of houses and circle around in the snow.

Some falling to the ground leave angelic imprints.

Others ride their bikes on the shallow snowpacks, leaving a path to follow.

A car skids on the icy road and swirls out of control.

Life is full of surprises.

Do I want to leave my room on this cold winter day?

Maybe not, but I have no choice.

My job calls and I have to listen.

But then the TV blares, “Route 67 (my road to work) closed.”

Life is full of surprises.

What will I do with my free time? I think.

Join the others outside on this cold winter day?

“No chance.” I mutter. I’ll just curl up on the couch with a good book.

But then, my furry pal, Sampson, appears out of nowhere, and out we go.

Life is full of surprises.

As we trek down the block, I feel as if I’m going to freeze to death.

With Sampson jerking the leash, I crash to the ground with a thud.

Holding on tight, as Sampson pulls me with all his might, I cringe in pain.

Then, I look up and see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen smiling at me.

Life is full of surprises.

Friday, July 18, 2025

Life can be chaotic. A positive attitude helps to travel a sometimes bumpy road.

Valuing life and others may help in . . .

Finding Peace

In the depths of a dark ocean,

There lived a great person,

One full of wonder and joy—

Unscathed by the world’s sadness.

This noble individual embraced life,

And believed in magic and dreams,

In the power of love and kindness,

In the beauty of everything.

Cherishing life and all it held,

Reminded them of who they were,

Pure and unblemished by life’s hardships,

Still able to see the world’s beauty.

They felt that out of the dark,

A bright light would shine,

Giving them courage and motivation,

Guiding them along life’s rough paths.

And in their eyes, one could see hope,

For humanity to blossom and find peace,

To be inspired to care for one another,

To create a serene existence that would never cease.

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

Things happen in unpredictable ways. Such occurrences can turn your life upside down.

You believe the past is behind you. Then something arrives in the mail . . .

With Postage Due

My father heard rumors

that contest riches

were coming his way.

Taken aback

by this great news,

he didn’t know what to say.

So he got his gun

and waited

by the front door

for this wonderful day.

Our family’s protection plan in place,

he looked through the peephole,

for the deliverer’s face.

That was six weeks ago,

and we’re still as poor as can be.

But our father hasn’t left the front door

and sleeps on a cot, not so peacefully.

Tremors are present,

in both his hands.

His whole body shakes uncontrollably,

and no one understands.

The pressure has driven him

to distraction,

and even Mom,

dressed in a sexy nightgown,

doesn’t appear

to be an attraction.

I’m only ten,

and what is happening

leaves me confused.

My eight-year-old brother,

on the other hand,

seems quite amused.

Why, is beyond me—

a complete mystery.

But I’ve recorded my thoughts

on paper to preserve our history.

Now twenty years later,

I began to practice law.

My first case involved my brother,

who I still adore.

Saving him

was what I needed to do,

for he had committed a crime,

witnessed by a few.

Seems he heard rumors

of riches coming his way.

Recalling my father’s failure,

he believed

he knew how to play.

Still living at home,

he awaited the arrival

of the delivery man,

who knocked on the door that day.

Opening it, he said,

“What you have in your hand

belongs to me.”

The delivery man replied,

“Well, no, that can’t be.”

Then my brother

pulled out my father’s gun

and shot the young man

in the knee.

He fell to the ground

on the front steps,

for all in the neighborhood to see.

With tears in his eyes, he cried,

“This was meant for an older man,

not you.

It’s been lost in the mail

for twenty years,

with postage due.”