Poetry and creative writing by Phil Lowe
My second WordPress site created to express my more poetic writing.
Whilst laying in bed I started to consider just a few things that my bedroom window had seen during its time in situ. It hasn’t always been double glazed of course but no doubt has seen many things evolving and passing by in its time. The 1960s film version of H.G Wells The Time Machine comes to mind.
Street photography in Nottingham mixed up with French text for fun.
I took this photograph in the Victoria shopping centre in Nottingham with the future intention of adding random thoughts of the people sitting or moving around the space. I have used some unique creative thinking around what they might be thinking or saying – a few in Portuguese and Italian – just for variety. Less a poem and more an exercise in creative thinking. Phil Lowe
This is a found image that I came across on the way back to the railway station in Derby (England) from seeing a Shakespeare play. It reminded me very much of Dada and although I have no real fond connection with this city of my birth – it has changed so much over time – this quirky image somehow reconnected me with things nostalgic. I can’t properly explain why. Perhaps growing up in Derby gave a me a sense of the absurd. Phil Lowe
Just messing with words or getting all Phil Lowe Sophical?
My cat likes to go out at night and I don’t have a cat flap. He usually comes back around 6am. Not today. He decided to go through the cat flap next door and sleep on their spare bed. I called him and called him and finally, after 11am he decides to come out and return home. In between time I took advantage of him not being around and did a fair amount of hoovering and house cleaning. He hates the hoover. On return, he seemed ravenous.
This rather macabre poem was written after buying a hot bacon cob from a working class café in The Victoria Centre in Nottingham. Normally I would be bothered by the vast amount of fatty grease that was dripping from the bottom of my cob (roll or bap) on to my plate. However I was ravenously hungry and animal instinct took over and in the words of the poem I wolfed it down. 907 is the order number and I was given a raffle ticket as I placed my order so that when the serving woman shouted out my number my food would reach my table tout suite.
Inspired by reading about an Italian dancer’s experiences working in the UK. The man depicted is not Emanuele but shows the same degree of grace and dancer muscularity.
As much as I love comedy and humour I find that I am not an easy laugher especially in a crowd situation. Whilst I hear people roaring with laughter around me I find myself barely offering a smile. I can’t explain this because I am amused but I guess we all respond as we do and to do otherwise would be a falsehood.
As I have got older I have discovered that holding one’s liquids isn’t as easy as in early years. Many a time of late have I found myself dashing to the loo for a wee with only seconds to spare.
Poetry and creative writing by Phil Lowe 