Month: July 2015

Without Asking

Thrown here, without asking,

It all appears easy,

When you stare through it all

Thrown here without asking,

I sit with my eyes closed

I didn’t want it then,

And I still don’t, now

Closed eyes,

And then comes the smile,

The one that stretches,

From ear to ear

Just killing the time

Working my way,

And thinking about,

How I never wanted this,

In the first place

Well, then,

Without asking,

I rise up,

Walk away

I can feel the open eyes,

Burning holes in the back of my head

I couldn’t care less,

All this came about,

Without asking for it,

Without a want, a need,

Or even any interest,

From me

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


Gluttony Of Big Winnings

Gluttony is the cost of doing business

And all those shiny stars,

Have faded out,

And are long past dead

The winds speak of all the big winnings,

All the luxuries,

All you could ever dream of

But the rains hold different plans,

And all will be shown,

When the time is ripe

I watch the mindless,

Looking lost and scared,

Scattered about ,

Walking aimlessly in circles,

And paying no attention,

To the vast world at large

There I can see,

All their tiny thoughts of disillusionment,

Those wicked glints of disappointment,

When they discover,

It’s not as they were promised

I’ve shared drinks with the best of them,

Listened to the sad tales,

And watch as the smiles,

Melted from their faces,

Like wax near a flame

Not what they had hoped for

Not the end,

Which they bought into

All that time is gone

It’s all gone,

And never coming back

Gluttony is the cost of doing business

And all those shiny stars,

Have faded out,

Hope the lies they tell themselves,

Have made it all worth it

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


The kindness of strangers,

Plays to the rocking thoughts,

Of this paper-thin mind

With not a lot of time left,

And very little left of importance,

She finds nothing wrong with,

Taking sips of my drinks

Without asking

Or stealing freshly lit cigarettes

No one feels like her

Not the same exact way she does

And the masses,

Should be thankful for that

Reflect into her weary soul,

And spit prayers into the foolish winds

For to end like this,

Is to end alone

Sorrow-filled and empty

And an ending like that,

Is simply a waste

A waste of all her prettiness and promise,

Which was once held so high,

But now resorts to scraping,

It’s own belly across,

This barren and burned world

The same world where strangers,

Don’t save the day

And very rarely,

Can be seen,

Outside of the shadows

© Dicky J Loweman 2015



The Many Seasons Of Her Moments

She cried for so many reasons

They weren’t all cries of hurt, though,

No, most maybe,

But definitely not all

Sometimes she cried,

From all of her laughter

Her laughter causing her to heave,

Rhythmically up and down

She had such a great laugh,

And she was wise enough,

To use it as often as possible

Sometimes fear could cause her tears

She seemed to like to live,

In moments of fear

She feared as much as any woman,

I had ever come to know

But this was out of necessity

She was fond of telling me,

How, without fear,

We would never realize the joys,

We fought so hard to obtain

During the long, cold and lonely,

Months of snowy winters,

She would cry from a lack of companionship,

A lack of the leaves on the trees,

And the warmth of sunshine,

Kissing her,

On her white skinned face

She cried for all the seasons,

The many seasons

All of which created those very movements,

Which I remember fondly

She’s been gone a while, now,

But is never very far away

And when I feel like crying,

I think of her moments,

And before I know it,

It’s back again,

That same laughter,

She taught me to live for

© Dicky J Loweman 2015