Day: April 28, 2015

Kafka, Bukowski And Me

Kafka turned to Bukowski and said,

“You var an arsehole”

Bukowski took a swig of his wine,

And answered

“It takes one to know one, baby”

Then we just sat there

In silence

Not one of the three of us spoke

I watched the flame of a candle

The only light to this room

After a while,

Kafka shot a confused glare,

Straight at Henry

Hank responded by pounding the glass of red wine

I just continued to sit there

Motionless

Without words to say

Taking it all in

Basking in their pissing contest,

But too small to interrupt

And let’s face it —

No one was sure

Just how I got here

And although none of us admitted to it

We all knew the answer

I held the slightest chance,

Of getting out alive

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

How Would You Do It?

Often, while bored

I think of all the people

In this world,

Who truly despise me

The people who

Would love to hear that

I have died,

Passed on,

Kicked the proverbial bucket

I drift back and think of all the ways

I have bothered these people

These same people

Who, countless times

Have bothered me, too

I often think it would be fun

To sit these people down

And ask each one

The same question

“If you could get away with killing me, how would you do it?”

I know this isn’t ‘normal’ thought pattern,

But what the hell?

It brings me to a full smile

Especially when I think

Of all their creative ways

I imagine some people

Would want to kill me

Some more than once, I bet

I mean, with all the options

Only having one shot at it,

Kind of seems

Like a ripoff

But that’s when the smile leaves

because there is always a follow-up thought

And this one, I don’t much care for

It’s the thought

Of those few people

Who wouldn’t want to tell me

Their ideal way of

polishing me off

When I think of these few people,

I’m no longer smiling

And the reason is simple

These are the few people,

I believe,

Who have a real desire

To get rid of me

And that scares me

More than the dying part

Because one of those faces

Of the people who truly hate me

Might be the last face I see

And that alone

Is a reason to mix a drink

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Eagle

Midday heat

And I want to call it quits

The marsh lies low

Because the sun is high and bright

All of a sudden

Out of nowhere

comes the mighty bald eagle

The wing span must be six feet

sprawled out,

Against the hot blue, velvet sky

She floats endlessly

With beauty and grace,

Like I’ve never seen

Her view of the world,

From her point of view,

Would be worth,

More than I’m worth

One chance

To see this imperfect world,

Through her eyes

I get lost in her turns

I struggle to find her

Wanting nothing more,

Than to catch a ride

On that glorious bird’s back

© Dicky J Loweman 2015