(smoke ghost)

blue-grey smoke rises

in a swirl about the light

ghosts disappearing

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


I often feel like a ghost

Like I’m not really here,

But rather, just passing through

I have to remind the same people

The same things —

Again and again, and yet again

As if I wasn’t around,

The first few times I mentioned it

Maybe I’m not that interesting?

Maybe I speak in foreign tongues?

Maybe I’m just so clear,

That everybody else

Just sees right through me

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Giving Up The Ghost

When I woke up today things just didn’t seem right

I had sweated through my clothes

But I was so cold, I couldn’t stop the shaking

I looked down at my bed

It was neat and tidy, as if no one slept there

I walked into the bathroom

Everything gleamed white

Atomic white, in fact

Like a model

Just like it was never used

I looked into the mirror, but saw nothing

Only a void

I ran for the kitchen, the only room with a clock

Again, like it had never been lived in

My pictures missing off the walls

The cupboards, bare

That’s when it struck me

I’ve been gone a long time

I slowly walked to the front door

Afraid to open it, but also afraid not to

In the instant I swung open the door

That’s when I saw it

The beautiful, atomic white light

I could do nothing

Except move straight towards it

© Dicky J Loweman 2014