by Mary E. Lowd
Composed on Threads, 12/16/2023
Creating images
Through conversation
Adjectives for a paintbrush
My chisel is verbs Continue reading “Sculpting with Words”
An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
Composed on Threads, 12/16/2023
Creating images
Through conversation
Adjectives for a paintbrush
My chisel is verbs Continue reading “Sculpting with Words”
by Mary E. Lowd
A Deep Sky Anchor Original
I write down my words
And save them carefully
This is me
And I value me
These words are a snapshot
Of myself in this moment Continue reading “I Wrote a Poem While Walking on the Beach”
by Mary E. Lowd
Composed on Threads, 12/16/2023
That feeling when
Every possible thing
You could do seems too hard…
Except for writing poetry Continue reading “A Drop of Blood”
by Mary E. Lowd
Composed on Threads, 12/16/2023
We make up rules
To help survive the chaos
But when the chaos
Changes the world
So the rules no longer make sense Continue reading “Follow the Rules to Ruin”
by Mary E. Lowd
Composed on Threads, 12/15/2023
We are all the cosmos’s dog
Companion to the universe
Small, short-lasting flickers
Of friendship
And exuberance Continue reading “The Cosmos’s Dog”
by Mary E. Lowd
A Deep Sky Anchor Original
The universe is a machine
For generating conversations;
When every possible conversation
Has been had,
The multi-verse will be complete. Continue reading “The Multitudinous Conversation”
by Mary E. Lowd
A Deep Sky Anchor Original
If you look under my skin
You’ll find a collection
Of several octopuses
Trying awkwardly to cooperate
To steer this human-skeleton-mecha-thingy Continue reading “Several Octopuses in a Trench Coat”
by Mary E. Lowd
A Deep Sky Anchor Original
My stomach is a confused bunny
Poor rabbit, hopping in circles
Weak and afraid
My brain is an angry cat
Stalking, lurking, judging
Ready to hiss
Ready to slash Continue reading “I am a Zoo”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Beyond Wespirtech, November 2023
It was so beautiful that the weight of it made her feel weak inside. She cried, and no one knew why. No one else could hear the music. But Brianna could hear it inside.
Brianna’s parents didn’t understand. They thought their child simply had an artistic sensitive soul, and perhaps, she was unusually susceptible to sunstroke. They tried to keep her inside on sunny days, especially in the middle of the summer. But Brianna craved the sun. It made her cry, but it also made her giggly and manic. Sunlight could make her happier than anything else — that voice whispering in her heart, rising and falling, raising expectations, holding out a moment longer than she thought she could stand, and then resolving. The music Brianna heard was the fabric of her life. Continue reading “The Girl Who Could Hear the Stars Sing”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Beyond Wespirtech, November 2023
The ship shifting into orbit woke Tara up, but she kept her eyes closed, listening to her parents talk.
“It always scares me coming here,” Tara’s mother said. “Your dad makes such beautiful illusions for Tara. I’m afraid some day that she’ll choose not to come home.”
Tara was curled up on the ratty old couch on the back of their starhopper’s bridge. It was a loveseat and not meant to be slept on; she barely fit on it anymore. Her parents were sitting in the pilot and co-pilot seats, right in front of the viewscreen that must have shown the emerald and azure sphere of Grandpa Brent’s planet, Sylverra. Continue reading “Summers on Sylverra”