September

Tag: writing

  • Paris

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    As a child of 13 in Padre on vacation with family friends I saved the life of our friends 11-year-old son from an ocean current. I had heard John yelling to Brian and saw my father running down the beach yelling to Brian. I looked and Brian was out about two football fields from the…

  • I Woke Last Night

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    I woke last night to the sounds of fifteen gunshots. A poem is a strand from a Mirror. A poem is a noun. Its meaning Its adjective, it exists in one scene. A story is a verb. Its theme is its adverb. It has motion. It moves like a vehicle. Its story is how it…

  • Church Outreach

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    I lived in an upper scale neighborhood. I never had lunch money. No big deal. There was nothing to fix. Every once in a while, I would get a new lunch pail box as a big thing but no follow through. A kid at school, my new friend from Church, arranged for us to do…

  • Reason for Being

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    Can anything hold in measure to spend your life on? Yes easily. Any number of things. Just pick one. Why not. One is any better than the other. You wont waste your life. You will have decided what you want out of life and gone for it. At the end of your life will you…

  • Paige`

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    P.S. Personal Secret. My friend came up to me and offered me a pill. She was counting them from the palm of her hand back into the bottle as I heard her say… he loves me. he loves me not. I declined the offer and told her that I was just having Pepsi. Ninety proof…

  • Kit Carson

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    In third grade they forgot to teach me cursive – in second grade. Or perhaps I was still recovering. I am a Genius and I spoke French and in third grade the school forgot cursive. My neighbor brought the neighborhood kids to see the Battle of Midway in ’73. His wife brought just me to…

  • Through the Mirror Sideways

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    Child, does your mother know you are out here? Who gave you the right to ask me that? Your mother. Come here. I don’t know. I am busy. Myself is trying to get his memories back and I keep moving them. Sometimes they are hidden in French. Other times…he’s not as smart as me. Who…

  • Year of the Rat 1975

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    Give me a wonder, a word. Give me a silent reason without silence. Give me a moment a shared second or two. Give me your hand. And I will try to tell you… because even the greatest author cannot hide the presence of the final page, of saying goodbye to a friend. And I was…

  • Clay

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    There was a moment when clay first opened the summer of green fields and oceans and star light. When the trespass of time on a moments silence touched the earth with resolution, alone. That is what time is. Alone. When a child becomes angry at the sun and the clouds and the rain streams across…

  • Bow

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    A collaboration with CoPilot Under the honey‑slow morning I wandered,young as the hush before sunlight breaks,and the fields, all breathing green and forever,lifted their bright, forgiving faces to me.Time was a distant bell in a far steeple,ringing for someone older than I was,and the day, wide‑armed and river‑easy,carried me laughing through its dreaming hours. Time…

  • Moon Mist

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    A collaboration between Andrew and Copilot Oh the night is soft and easy,and the moon is smilin’ wide.Got a little tune inside me,and it’s glowin’ like a firefly. Oh the night has got my night time…and the day has got my dreams.The reason I believe them.The reason it seems.Is I sing my songs to heaven.They’re…