Day: February 14, 2015


Old piece of paper

Seen in the typeroll

May just be words, alone to you

But, to me

They are so much more

They tell of good times

They tell of the bad

Of days and nights

Long ago, but also not far away

They speak of truths I can’t say

And spill out imagination

I otherwise wouldn’t have

Just a piece of old paper, to you

The whole world to me

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Sick Puppy

I spent two days straight in bed

Sick as a dog, knocking on death’s door

My shotgun trip to New York was the cause for all of this love

My 102 degree fever

My sweats and shivers

My aching muscles and panicked stumbles to the bathroom

I’m just like most men

I don’t handle being sick very well

I live with the constant thoughts that

‘This must be the end’

‘This is how I’m going to go’

The fact is

Even a small cold and case of the flue

Is enough to turn me into a small scared child

Who just curls up in bed

And waits, patiently

For death to come and collect the winnings

© Dicky J Loweman 2015