Day: May 14, 2015

Late Night Rituals

It’s late at night

And I’ve finished my last writes of the evening

I’ve exhausted all the thoughts I can squeeze,

From this drunk and worn out mind

This room has grown dim

And the soft sounds of Miles and John

Are floating in the otherwise still air

I check my email, one more time

Just to make sure,

I haven’t missed anything from you

Lines from you, late at night,

Are always the best way to call it quits

But, ah, nothing from you

But still, all is good

There will be tomorrow, soon enough

And hopefully more words of yours to decipher

And more of my own to collect

Sometimes,

Looking to the future,

Can brighten a quiet and darkened room

And bring dreams filled with the goods

Which sail men off to the furthest

Parts of this world

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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Perfect End

There are different shades of greys

Ranging from charcoal to dust

There are cracks along the way

Climbing up the walls,

Running through the sidewalks

There is a constant heavy sigh,

A slight moan and groan

The bustle of this city

Seems monotonic and mundane

People focus on cell phones and their shoes

And no one glances up,

To read anyone’s eyes,

Or to match a smile with their own

Stale airs and old trash

Tucked away and fill the corners

The same corners they walk past

Everyday

Without a conscience, without pause

The world rotates at 1000 mph

But it’s much slower, here

Much more impersonal,

Selectively savage, heartless and cold

It’s always good times, somewhere in this world

And that includes 5:00, somewhere

Time to brighten the greys,

Fill in the cracks

And forget all these plagued souls

A quick stroll to the beach cafe,

A stroll by the bar

Grab and go,

Head to the water’s edge

Where the waves sing in harmonies,

Which would make the Gregorian Chants

Seem out of tune

I listen to the winds and the gulls,

As I watch the sun die another perfect death

And at that very moment all is forgiven, forgotten,

All troubles slip and disappear,

Like the smoke from my cigarette

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

In-Between Stage

Time has a way

Of tempering all the anger

I hate the waiting,

The stillness,

The nothingness and nothing to push it forward

She sits and looks at a picture book

I type away,

Pretending not to notice,

Not to care

We have a way with words

A way of saying things,

Thing we always regret

And apologize for later

But later isn’t here yet

We’re still in that in-between stage

I lack any liking for these times

Although I’m just as much to blame

She gets up, without speaking

She floats to the kitchen

And disappears

When she returns,

She’s holding drinks for us both

She puts one down in front of me,

Rubs my shoulders,

And whispers a ‘sorry’

Into my ear

And just like that,

We’re in the clear

We’ve flushed out of the in-between stage

And landed back in “happyland”

And to think all it took,

Was time,

That very time I despise so much

Of course the drink and apology,

Didn’t do anything to hurt it, either

© Dicky J Loweman 2015