Breakfast With The Girl

She stares down at the eggs

I stare back at her

We say nothing

There is nothing to be said

She is haggard, grim

And the eggs are getting cold

The coffee is getting cold

I no longer have an appetite

And my mind wonders to the day ahead

It’s going to get hot, today

So I think I’ll bike to the pool

Catch some sun

And forget about breakfast

The cold eggs

And her

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Names In The Dirt

Damaged and used up

Spit out, thrown to the wolves

Bent and cramped

With eyes that falter

The long shadows are screeching

With the names of those now long past

There will be no consolation prizes

No raffles with promises of big wins

There will, however, be long nights

Cold nights

And thoughts which bring brave men

Crashing down to their knees

There will be soft whispers

Of all you don’t know

Of all the wasted time

Spent dreaming of the better ways

The impossible, impassable, linger on

Long past their prime

But with little else to do

Except scratch names in the dirt

The names of the hidden, of the few

Who sought out this world

However, had no choice

But to view it through fogged eyes

Damaged and used

Thrown down with careless abandonment

Only to hesitate, waiver

Slowed by the process

Which was never forgiving

And never sympathetic

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


No Sunshine

There isn’t anything left for us

We accomplished all we set out to do

We turned on the days

Just to have the nights

But what did that get us?

Soon we were sick

Sick of the darkness and the never-ending plights

Fires we burned always turned to ash

So boredom takes its place

And with a little bit of willingness

She will roll us into the grave

The final resting place

Where the dirt is piled so high

And we will be the reasons for the flowers above us

But, then again, we asked for this

Prayed for this

Begged for it

Until our mouths rotted and what was left of our souls

Dried up and drifted in the chilly nighttime winds

This is what we wanted

We planned it out, we played it over

Over and over again, nightly

Never skipping a step

Never missing a beat

No sunshine

Just ash

And cold

And darkness

No sunshine

Just the night

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


Harbor Of Early Morning Hours

The wasted fields and battered landscape

Were all that stood in the end

The chaos, the madness and the unbelievable

Still float in vulnerable harbors of our minds

There is nothing left now

And even the packs of wild hunting dogs

Are showing fear from the lacking

Nights are long and cold

Stay huddled for warmth and for protection

From those very bad and infested memories

Which fill our lifeless and barren dreamscapes

In these, the longest, coldest and darkest times of night

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Winter Nights

Night comes quickly

During the lonely and desolate winter months

Talk is cheap, used sparingly

No one is interested, no one is listening

Great plans are laid to rest

To rise again — but only to again fall

Into the darkness, the nothingness, the mire

But we keep our memories close at hand

To use when the mind’s well runs dry

And the winds blow too cold

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Cold Hearted Wind

It just don’t seem right

All the time spent

All the investments made

That you could walk away

Seemingly without a care

I guess I only have myself to blame

I had been warned

Time and time, again

That this is how it would go down

But a woman, as pretty as you

Can cast a certain spell

A certain shadow

Over the hearts of a man like me

Leaving one feeling silent


And very, very cold

Much like that of a prairie wind

Whipping across a Canadian snowfield

Indeed, a very cold place to be

© Dicky J Loweman 2014


Bad Weather Day

Another lousy day for the outside world

Filled with whipping winds and driving rains

It’s too cold outside, for my liking

But in here it toasty

I brew some fresh coffee

Strong, Cuban style

Something to get the blood moving

Shake off the cobwebs, and the gloom of the day

With a fresh cup in hand I sit down to write

I find, however

I do better just staring out the window

Feeling a bit smug

At all my creature comforts

I don’t need all of this

I would survive outside, alone

Even on a day like today

However, I enjoy my spoils

I want to call a friend over and share all this

But I can’t decide who I’d like to share this with

This lucky and perfect day

So instead of that call

I continue to gaze fixedly and intently

Out the window, at the driving rains

And this bad weather day

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

Secret Spot

It’s cold and dark down here

I forget how long I’ve been gone

This secret spot

Always lush with courageous and mettlesome thoughts

Thoughts which help with bad days, just like today

The seemingly endless days where nothing goes right

And nothing good takes shape

But all that is forgotten

Left behind to sink into a rooted mind’s mire

Leaving behind only the goodness

All the coldness and darkness

Of this seldom viewed world

© Dicky J Loweman 2014