woman

One Eye Open

There is no real cause to be alarmed,

But I do hold an uneasy feeling

It’s this place,

And I’m sure, a little to do with you

You have beauty,

You have power to your movements

These are qualities I admire,

And surely don’t take lightly,

Or for granted

Your sway causes me to do the same

A far away look,

Causes me to gaze off, as well

I realize that I mimic you

Like I’m in a trance,

Or caught in a hold

It’s not a bad thing, mind you,

It only causes slight uneasiness

Maybe I just need to get used to it,

Maybe just give in,

And go for the ride

We’ll see,

And take it as it comes

But for now,

I’ll continue to keep an eye on you,

Watch and repeat the things you do,

And sleep lightly,

With one eye open

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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Sorry For The Silence

Sorry for the silence,

But I get tired,

Of the loud night’s shouts

She and I have,

Come and gone,

Parted ways,

And left all the entrails hanging

The deal sounded good,

In theory

But it looked worse,

Once it was written on paper

So I’ll move her letter on,

Place them with the thoughts,

That get these deals closed

Sometimes the silence is crushing,

Like the weight of 1000 stones

But often, it shows its face,

In the form of relief

Overthinking, planning, and surmising,

Never does the mind much good

And that about sums it up

Hope that fills you in,

Fills the cracks,

And patches all the leaks

Again, sorry for the silence,

But sometimes, like lately,

The world has been just too loud,

And the silence becomes,

My calm

© 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

Strangers

The kindness of strangers,

Plays to the rocking thoughts,

Of this paper-thin mind

With not a lot of time left,

And very little left of importance,

She finds nothing wrong with,

Taking sips of my drinks

Without asking

Or stealing freshly lit cigarettes

No one feels like her

Not the same exact way she does

And the masses,

Should be thankful for that

Reflect into her weary soul,

And spit prayers into the foolish winds

For to end like this,

Is to end alone

Sorrow-filled and empty

And an ending like that,

Is simply a waste

A waste of all her prettiness and promise,

Which was once held so high,

But now resorts to scraping,

It’s own belly across,

This barren and burned world

The same world where strangers,

Don’t save the day

And very rarely,

Can be seen,

Outside of the shadows

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

 

The Many Seasons Of Her Moments

She cried for so many reasons

They weren’t all cries of hurt, though,

No, most maybe,

But definitely not all

Sometimes she cried,

From all of her laughter

Her laughter causing her to heave,

Rhythmically up and down

She had such a great laugh,

And she was wise enough,

To use it as often as possible

Sometimes fear could cause her tears

She seemed to like to live,

In moments of fear

She feared as much as any woman,

I had ever come to know

But this was out of necessity

She was fond of telling me,

How, without fear,

We would never realize the joys,

We fought so hard to obtain

During the long, cold and lonely,

Months of snowy winters,

She would cry from a lack of companionship,

A lack of the leaves on the trees,

And the warmth of sunshine,

Kissing her,

On her white skinned face

She cried for all the seasons,

The many seasons

All of which created those very movements,

Which I remember fondly

She’s been gone a while, now,

But is never very far away

And when I feel like crying,

I think of her moments,

And before I know it,

It’s back again,

That same laughter,

She taught me to live for

© 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

 

Hold To Grace

You hold to grace,

Like a bull in a china shop

You teeter from side to side,

Like a rudderless ship

If you told me you were dancing,

I’d have to believe you

There’s a certain art to you,

A style soaked in you

This can’t be duplicated,

Can’t be imitated

But somehow,

You manage to pull it off

And I know the walk home,

Will be interesting,

And filled with hundreds of extra,

And dizzying side steps,

And circles

Got to smile

You have it all worked out,

Down to a science,

And perfected,

And done so without shame,

Or care,

Or regret

Like a small child,

I guess you just don’t know,

Any better,

Any other way

© Dicky J Loweman 2015