Day: December 11, 2014


eight arms in movement

spider dancing on the web

proud of the new catch

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

A Distant Soft Bang And Faraway Thoughts

I hear a soft bang from the other room

I’m not exactly sure which room, only not the one I’m in

It’s late and I’m alone

This leads to the feeling of “got to search for that noise”

I stand, stretch and realize I haven’t moved in quite a long time

Such are the luxuries, when you are alone

You are allowed to let your mind wander

To ponder the small and meaningless thoughts

The thoughts you would never have time for, during the busy day

I find I do this a lot at night

Sitting in hardly lit room, just me and the useless thoughts

The useless thoughts which, more often than not, are of her

What she would look like

The mood she would be in

Those were the good days, carefree and long ago

There’s that soft bang, again

A subtle reminder to check on it

Probably just a heating duct coughing

Probably nothing

But, better to check it out

Nobody likes noises, from other dark rooms

Not when they’re alone

Not when they interrupt

The faraway thoughts of her

© D J Loweman 2014


Let me get a good look at you
Close up, where I can see the works
Like a diamond polished till perfect
This wasn’t always the case, you know
Someday you’ll thank me
Those countless hours of work
How I had to creep away with you
The dead of night
You wanted to scream
But screams are troublesome for mutes like you
Still I couldn’t blame you
Not knowing what was in store
Your dilapidated workings
Your unsuitable mind
Tossed then turned
Until you could expend no more
But in the confines of this humble study
I had all the instruments
All the tools I ever needed
We played with scalpels, haeomorrhoid forceps
And bone saws and brushes
We cut tissue with scissors
And stuck probes past tenaculums
Which indignantly parted arteries
There were catlins, both big and small
And of course, tourniquets
However unfortunate, morphia come with quite a price tag
So some luxuries we must go without
Alas, don’t slouch
My natty friend
Look on the bright side
You are but a fraction of your old self
Much improved, if I may say so myself

© Dicky J Loweman 2014