time

Late

I woke up thirty minutes late

There was no time for the usual routine

I brushed my teeth, but skipped the shower

I munched a handful of coffee beans,

But didn’t have the time to enjoy a brewed cup

I dressed in the same clothes from yesterday

I grabbed my small travel pack,

Which housed only the previous day’s contents,

And at this moment, I couldn’t tell you what they were

I flashed one last lap throughout the house,

Grabbing my keys, but no hat or glasses

I had a place to be,

But waking up thirty minutes late,

Severely limited my chances of making it on time

I left my house without locking the door,

Or shutting the garage tight

I peddled as fast as I could

My destination lying two and a half miles away,

But waking up thirty minutes late,

I was mortally behind

So, by the time I arrived,

The Sun I was hoping to greet upon arrival,

Was ahead of this day’s schedule

It wasn’t to be

No magical sunrise for this sod

Ah, alright

It was still a pretty morning

Soft autumn dawn

I woke up thirty minutes late,

And missed the only chance I’d have for this all day long

But it’s all good in the end

It actually works out well

It serves as a good excuse

To try it again,

And get it right tomorrow

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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Fall

The time now,

Has become what I refer to,

As the easy part of the year

The sun doesn’t shine as bright,

And the winds don’t scorch your neck,

With every breath they blow

For this is the Fall,

Autumn,

The easy part of the year

It is the great race on to winter,

When all grows dormant,

With all the thoughts of total sleep

Thoughts of sleep and darkness

Not that winter down here,

Is too hard or unlivable

Actually, it’s just the opposite

It’s just not as easy as the Fall

Of course,

I like Summer and all her heat the best

But by the time the Fall catches up to me,

I’m ready for her

I look forward to the chilled nights,

And could use the reprieve in this aging life

I’m ready

I’m set for a little relief,

From all that heat,

The stifling simmer

I’ve grown a little tiresome of,

The everyday late-afternoon downpours,

And the constant sweating

Now don’t get me wrong

I’ll soon miss and long for the heat to come back

But Autumn never comes too soon around here

And, as usual, she won’t stick around,

Quite as long,

As I always seem to wish that she would

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

Nothing Better

I have nothing better to do,

Than sit here all day

Just waste this day,

Like so many before,

And the so very many,

Which will follow

I have nothing better to do

My glass is empty,

And now I wait on the girl,

Behind the bar

I’m held captive,

And need to find a filler

I pilfer glances,

At the two girls sitting,

Next to me

They’re deep in conversation,

And have no way,

Of knowing any better

I compare the two girls’ thighs

I wrestle with which one,

Would be better in bed,

Which one would look better naked

But then,

In an instant,

My drink has been refilled,

And I’m back to doing,

What I came here to do

This is a pretty good life,

Good if you can keep up with it,

And don’t weaken

I’m ok with that

I can work within these rules,

Laws and parameters

And besides,

I have the time

I have lots of it,

And as I finish my drink,

I smile at the boredom,

And at the two girls’ thighs

It’s all good,

I have nothing better to do

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Preoccupied

She was a basket case,

Carved out of long nights,

And very little sleep

Laughter was never taken lightly

Smiles only showed their face,

When the moon was full

She spent a lifetime,

In that tiny, dirty room

Filling page after page,

With bad afterthoughts,

And secretly hidden regrets

I should have seen it coming

I should have paid better attention

But that wasn’t my job,

And selfishness often takes away,

The very thing we live and long for

The very same thing,

We were too preoccupied with,

All the times that never counted,

But never,

When they counted the most

© Dicky J Loweman 2015