bar poem

Lifting Them

All is good in this world

And as long as no one is dying,

Let’s lift a few

Put them up to our lips,

And hope we make it back alive

Here’s to the future good days,

And to all the bad ones gone

I guess I prefer the here and now,

Over the what could or should have been

Call me an optimist,

It seems everyone else likes to call me a cynic

Well, fuck ’em

Let them rot and roll in their graves

And to all of those retched souls,

I lift one

Just because I’m still here,

And they’re not

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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Drinks For Thought Or For Reminder

Cast out like a bullet

So full of life and all

Times like this call for drinks

Drink it all down deep,

And make sure it stays

For this will serve as the constant reminder

Of how life takes turns

When all you wanted was straight and narrow

Let it serve as that reminder,

Of how life comes with curves,

And of how much better those curves are,

With that constant reminder

Packed deep in your gut,

Surrounded by those deep drinks

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

Mess

No one wins

And nothing is good enough, anymore

Try as we might,

This is a fruitless endeavor

And the outcome won’t ever be what we want

Should have left ‘well enough’ alone

Let the chips fall where they wanted

And never messed with the way things were

But we are far from perfect

This isn’t our first mistake,

And it will hardly be our last

So lift your glass,

In all good cheer

And forget how we screwed this up

And try to pretend,

Like this whole mess,

Never really happened

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Lonely Duet

The bar is nearly empty

The rains pour in buckets on the outside world

And the fear of getting wet

Will keep even the heartiest of drinkers

Locked away in the bay

The bargirl strikes a secret conversation

With the barback,

Talking low about hatred for a fellow employee

Not too much is happening, not too much to see, but

In the corner sits a small rise,

Which serves as a stage

On top are duet,

Man and woman,

Who sing old covers — mostly slow dance songs

The woman has a soft and alluring voice

And the man holds his own,

Working away at the keys of an ancient Korg keyboard

It’s a bad turnout for them,

And I hope they don’t get paid by the headcount,

Because their meals and a few drinks,

Would put them in a hole

This night is a complete bust,

And the drinks taste as watery as the outside world

But at least I have a drink for a companion,

And that’s more than can be said,

For the old-time cover duet

Who’s music seems to be falling on deaf ears,

And one very big and lonely dance floor

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Cheers, Alice

Pay up, then head through the door,

With that same vodka tonic in hand

I walk back towards my house,

Knowing exactly where I can find that soul

Who is much more deserving and in need,

Of this last drink of the night

And I find her right where I thought she would be,

With the same sign, asking for money or food

I offer her the drink,

Which she takes with uncertainty and hesitation

I get the feeling,

from the look in her eye,

That this doesn’t happen all the time

I tell her my name,

And she tells me hers

Alice, she says, through cracked and sunburned lips

Pleased to meet you

We chatted for a short bit,

Then I went on home

I felt pretty good with the end to the evening

Sometimes people just need a break,

A bit of luck,

A ray of sunshine

And sometime that luck of light,

Can shine in the darkest hours,

Of a usually unforgiving night

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

 

 

Drawn In

The room was dimly lit, at best

I could only see a few feet in front of me

But that’s where she sat

She smoked long cigarettes,

Which were set between skinny fingers,

finished in a french tip style

She took deep inhales,

Followed by longer pauses

Then she would release

All the smoke from her lungs,

Creating a swirl of blue-grey clouds

Which transformed into beautiful sculptures

And while they only lasted for a moment,

I was drawn in

As deep as her inhale,

Only to be blown away,

In the end

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Counterproductive

My body floats away

From this crowded room

You are here

And there are things to talk about

After the walls come down

And you show up,

Again

Counterproductive

Always living at the edge

Heartless and reckless

Never knowing when

You’ve had enough,

When you’ve pushed too far

But none of this is real

Turn my head and clear my throat

Just a time-filler,

Waster, Player of too many games

Over-analyze

Taking note, so later there can be

Adjustments

Adjustments to this slipping away,

This turning away

Always lost and floating

And oh, so

Counterproductive

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Confused

The sunshine in the daylight can make you shiver

But you can sweat it out, in the dark of night

Especially when it’s a view like that

Have you ever seen such a sight?

It stains the eyes, puts a burn mark on the brain

Hurry it up, we have to get there

Take you time, but hurry up

You’re going too fast

Confused by all of this?

So am I, but that’s how life gets

Sometimes

And just when you think you have it all figured out

Here comes 3,100 pounds of nothing you can decipher

Windtalkers can’t write you out of this one, Joe Bob

Looks like we’re here to stay

Thank our lucky souls

Stay and be put

And just to be put back again

Into the ground with the rest

All the used up, all the leftovers

All that is, which no one wants anything to do with

The worms, the soil, the 300 year old dog shit

But we’ll just call it fertilizer

Still confused?

Yeah, me too

But stick around

The bargirl will be by with our orders soon

Things will even out

They always do, especially

In such a confusing world

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

The Beer Stand

I hate waiting in line for a beer

These may be the slowest lines

Of all time

And after all the minutes spent,

In this line which was born in hell,

The girl in front of me

Finally gets to the counter

This appears to have happened too fast for her

Like she was caught off guard

She looks confused, disoriented and out-of-place

She orders some flavor of light beer

Then stumbles through a small purse

Which is jammed with a phone, keys, tampons

Until she finally pulls out her bills

She pays with a twenty

And walks away

It’s finally my turn

I step up impatiently, and tell the girl what I want

She apologizes, and mutters in a most unfriendly tone

That they only have light beer

© Dicky J Loweman 2015