Kiss Your Ass Goodbye

Today is a hot day

Much too hot to think about doing,

Anything which would require,

Much movement,

Or even thought

These days, when it gets this hot,

I think in amazement,

How the leaves have the strength,

To stay on the trees,

How dogs can still muster a bark,

And how your fine ass,

Still parades around the house,

Looking comfortable,

As if it were only 75 degrees

I don’t have the strength,

To go to the other room,

To pour a much-needed drink,

Or even make it to the bathroom

My mind has gone soft

Thoughts blur together

All one can do, is try to sleep

Sleep it off,

And hope for a cooler evening

That’s when the relief comes

About the same time you need to go,

And I’ll kiss your sweet ass goodbye,

And spend too much time,

Thinking about the wasted day

Thinking about what I should have gotten done,

And hope for a little reprieve,


© Dicky J Loweman 2015



Quiet nights fill this old house

Nothing stirs,

Except for fleeting thoughts

The day’s sun,

Put quite a burn on me,

And now I’m left with,

That familiar pinch

The one the sun leaves with you,

To let you know,

That while the sun loves you,

The sun can hurt you, too

But within the quiet of this house,

And the pain of the sting,

And the tired eyes,

Is a feeling of comfort

A feeling which says,

It was a pretty good day

Salty waves,

Blistering sunshine,

Nighttime breezes,

And far off thoughts

Thoughts of you,

And how I plan,

To do all of this,

All over again, tomorrow

© D J Loweman 2015




At times, when the sun is at its highest,

My writing reaches a wall,

Reaches the lowest point,

And all of my creativity is sucked out

It’s as if all the sweat I’ve Iost

Holds all of my abilities,

Holds all my thoughts

The best answer I have found,

Lies in a quiet stream,

Surrounded by the tallest of trees

The only sounds back there,

Come from lazy birds,

Who can’t be bothered with full songs

Everything back there is slower,

And the shade shields me from the heat

A wade in the stream,

Maybe a little wine,

And just like that,

Refreshed, revived and rejuvenated

Cooled off and once again,

Filled with thoughts,

And without warning,

The writing comes back

And then all in the world,

Is in sync

Everything falls right back to perfect,

Everything is right, again

Dicky J Loweman 2015 ©


Heat Of The Afternoon

The sun beats into this room

Like a slave driver

Heating me and my awkward thoughts

To temperatures, which make blood boil

The paper called for rain

Never trust a paper,

Who can’t even get the weather,

Close to right

But, I do nothing to counteract

The heat of this room,

Just pacing

Back and forth,

Arms behind my back

Like a general planning

A strategic war move

But I have very little

In the way of interesting thoughts

So I take a seat

Look out the window

And wonder if it’s just as hot out there,

As it is in this room

© Dicky J Loweman 2015



Wasting Summer

Green pasture

Rolling hills

Filled with flowers and good smells

Aromas which make my eyes close

Taken back

Many years

Youthful thoughts


Noon sun

Burning down

The only shade, quarter-mile away

Too many footsteps, too much time

Spent wasting

Simple pleasures

Summer smiles


Afternoon nap

Stealing shade

And this rest, for the haul

Back to the business of life

The cars

The people

The noise

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Far Off Thoughts

The dog days of summer

Will soon lick the back of your neck

With the sweet sweat of sunshine

While the off-shore breezes throw chills

and moves grains of sand

in tiny swirls

As our great star retires

Replaced by a full moon

And mesmerizing new tides

Pull our thoughts out to sea

And force our thoughts of winter

Back to the secret caves

Of the slick by and by

We will cherish these days

And forget the old

For it’s times like this

We are forced

To only dream of now

© Dicky J Loweman 2015