new age writer

All The Possibilities Of Nothing Exceptional

Of all the things to do

A haze engulfs me

Making a decision difficult

boredom is a problem for those

Who lead, for the most part, solitary lives

This is how the men end up, end up

Ass in the air, pants around their ankles

Tonight this old city burns

Screams fill the hills and airs

For miles and miles

I can sit here silently

I can just watch it all

Take it all in

Then with all the possibilities of nothing exceptional

I’ll grab another beer

Head home

And call it a night

A very non-exceptional night

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

The secrect I Let slip

I have almost no regrets about you

I enjoyed our time we spent at the beach bar

And the few nights we spent together

I feel, however, I possibly enjoyed these more than you

For after a week you became board with some part or parts of it

You no longer showed up at my door

You stopped taking and returning calls

Well, such is life

We move on

I had no hard feelings, and I hoped you didn’t either

There is, however, one small thing about you

Which causes my blood to run hot, redden my face

The beach bar, you see, is where I met you

I had seen you in there before

And I’ve seen you there since

But, much to my displeasure

I accidentally told you of my ‘secret’ pub

A place I don’t frequent often

And a safe haven, where I don’t know anyone

And no one knows me

I love it because it’s like a mini vacation getaway

I have a few cocktails, talk briefly with others, and get a little writing done

Nothing exceptional, but it’s mine

My secret spot

I ventured there a few days ago

And saw you on my favorite coner stool

You had a group of interested old men around

Laughing much too loud and occasionally

Pointing in my direction

So my time here was up

I finished my drink, left a tip and headed to the door

‘Come back soon’, was belched for one of the old geezers

Followed by high decibel laughter, from that whole gang

I calmly gave the finger in return

But never looked back

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

Pleasure And Pain

One sweet smile

Dangled like wind from a ravaged fire

Which spits gasoline for fuel

One curious look

Lashed out with dart-like preciseness

One devilish thought

Of whirlwinds made out of madness

From where only the most evil

Of all things brew

One coy laugh

As I swirl ice in an empty glass

Filled With bourbon again, in moments to come

Carefully constructed finger pulses

Lead to unnoticed finger taps

Random acts which punctuate

And pulse rhythmic forces yet unseen

Hatred bowled

Deep in an unforgiving mind

Swept away by lies

And curious intrigue

Visions of night

Not yet known, but rewound

And replayed countless times

All of which

Have been carefully locked away

And guarded by each and every one of the minds follies

Sleep which fails to come

After nightfall shifts and bounces off the dendrites

who slavishly refuse to accept the synapses

Once more

Thoughts are raped away

By untimely and bitter questions

Questions about unfilled blown glass

And quickly melting frozen waters

© Dicky J Loweman 2014