When All The World’s Asleep But Me

Sometimes it’s everything

All for the gusto

Sometimes it not for much

Of anything at all

All the reasons

All the thinking

The twisting, the turning

The spinning and

All the emptiness which seems to tag along

All of this is a piece of shit

Left for the vultures, the worms, the politicians

Maybe it should be for the ex’s

And all their new-found lovers

Maybe is just a no good baby

See what I come up with,

At 3:00 am, with all the lights off,

And no sleep?

Somewhere, off in the distance

I can hear the coyotes

they’re up too

And from the sound of their howls,

They’re just as frustrated as I am

I can’t sleep, I can not sleep

No sleep for me

I listen again

But now, nothing

Now even the coyotes

Have finally wound down

And found a little shuteye

Lucky bastards,

I sure can’t

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


I Can’t Sleep

I can’t sleep tonight

I’ve paced back and forth

switched between beer and rum

Flipped through countless tv channels

And dead air radio

My mind is awash

With thoughts of future plans

And all the things I should have completed, but haven’t

I’m tired, but apparently, not tired enough

Maybe I should try another room

Maybe I should randomly start calling friends

Afterall, if I can’t sleep

Then why should they?

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


Broken Wing

Four in the morning

Caution lit up, thrown to the wind

The good birds don’t sing, anymore

The moon is almost hidden

And I’m on the rise

Soft spoken words

Filled with twists and turns

Left this head spinning

As if on a ride

It moves too fast

I don’t think I can get off

So I twirl in the darkest part of the eve

Caned by all who look on

Flogged by fools

And mocked by the masses

Mistakes were made

Promises were broken

And now I’m left

With one broken wing

And no way to get home

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


Blow Job

I wake from my nap

To the horrible sounds

Of my gardeners

Buzzing and hacking

Trimming and cutting

All done with the quickness of a horse race

But the noise

And the timing

Always when I wanted to sleep

I learned their pattern from my bed

Fifteen minutes of

Buzzing and hacking

Trimming and cutting

Then silence

Just long enough to start to sleep, again

Until the blow job

The final instalment on a thunderous afternoon

The last man comes around

And blows all the loose clippings away

The blow job

What a job

“What do you do for a living, Alvin?”

“Why, I’m the blower!”

The boys in Castro

Must love the way he finishes up

© D J Loweman 2014

Bad News

Harbored in bed

With all lights out

Not wanting to move

Only to sleep

I could get up

Re-read yesterday’s paper


Filled with story after story

Of bad news

But, instead, I settle for a glass of water

Prepare the coffee pot

The room is dark

No need for the lights

I have nothing to read

I just sit still in silence

With my water

Thinking about the sleep

I missed out on

And wait for the news boy

To bring me today’s bad news

© Dicky J Loweman 2014



That wonderful world

Where we drift and float

Conscientious of the soundness

The proud, the many

The many, unlike you or me

Instead, we stir

Rebounding off walls

Like echoes in a canyon

We pace back and forth

Wearing out carpets

Putting hole in our socks

Any clock become the enemy

Laughing directly at us

Mocking us

Teasing us

Our beds beg to us

Reminding us of what we haven’t

But what we wish we did

A vicious cycle

So we sit

In the dark of night

Neither one talking

We smoke

Cigarette after cigarette

Mixing drinks

Tearing labels off of the old bottles

Until we are ready to give up

Give in, because we can’t take it

Not anymore

The first signs of light

And the eyes of the beast grow heavy

We slump off, beaten

But with the thoughts of tiny victories

We won, is what we think

As we slam, face down

Into the pillows

Only to rise, again

In a few short hours

© Dicky J Loweman 2014