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  Sep 2019 B D Caissie
Francie Lynch
I believe love has an evil twin,
But I could be losing my mind.
There are petals on thistles,
And thorns on roses;
I can turn 360 or 180
And ride off in any direction.
Tales run like a loop in my brain,
Not recalling who's heard what,
I preface:
I've probably told you this before, but...
Is how any old story begins.
Deja Vu is my new life.
Every thought was once a poem
To be polished and revealed.
Today, they are intermittent.

I've been trolling old television series;
The Monkees were terrible then,
Terrible still;
The Three Stooges were best left in the memory vault;
Bonanza still has Ben wearing his beige vest;
Elizabeth Montgomery is still bewitching;
Jeannie is irritatingly attractive.
I must be leaking grey cells;
Rationality is creaking in my bone-head.
B D Caissie Aug 2019
There once was a boy who found a magnificent tree, standing alone in a field of wild flowers and green grasses. He circled its trunk with his hand gently touching its weathered and aging bark. "I will climb you one day." He announced to its branches. "If I could only grow but a few extra inches!"

He returned to the tree nearly every day that summer. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, something that can only be experienced in ones youth. Oh how his imagination took him on fantastic adventures, of pirates and treasures of heroes and villains. Secret missions around the world and rockets to mars.

On the last day of summer he played on well past dinner. From the edge of the field he could hear his dad calling. Dejectedly he sauntered back home with his hands in his pockets, glancing back at his unconquered mountain of branches.

As seasons changed so did the boy. Eventually he became tall enough to scale its branches but would  merely stare fondly at the tree in passing. Wanting to fit in and please his friends as they were not interested in some old tree in an otherwise empty lot. Patiently the tree waited with its roots firmly planted deep in the field of his subconscious.

The tree stood alone once more as the hands of time moved forward. Then this boy became a man, leaving his childhood behind in search of success and to make his mark in the world. His boyhood adventures slowly drifting away down the river of memories in his mind.  

Years went by like days on a calendar and he found himself with a family of his own. Yet there still remained a longing for his childhood home. So became the first of many summer vacations with his parents in his boyhood home. Who were more than happy to have their grandson echo the walls with the sounds of cherished memories, seemingly only yesterday.

His son slept in his old room and compared his height with markings on the wall. He played with his old toys and had adventures in the yard. The son unknowingly chasing the shadows of his fathers past.

One day his son ran in the house asking to play in a nearby field.  "The one with the huge tree in the middle." He announced, as he bounced up and down with excitement. His father smiled and said "I don't see why not. You know, I remember playing there when I was your age. " off he ran as his father grinned and became lost in thought as memories began to rise to the surface like roots in search of water.

His boy ran through the field towards the towering tree. Like father like son he wheeled his imagination of dinosaurs and rocket ships and missions to the stars. Without a care he hopped and twirled and zipped around its trunk.

The light of day began to wane, marking the end of another day. His father walked to the edge of the field about to call him home but hesitated when he noticed his son jumping desperately trying to reach the lowest branches to no avail. As he watched, memories of his former self tugged at him like a child demanding his attention.

So instead he began to walk through the field, all the while holding out his arms allowing the wild grasses to tickle the palms of his hands. The closer he got to the tree the more he felt like the boy he left behind so many years ago.

"Looks like you could use a little help." He said to his son, then proceeded to climb the tree that patiently waited so long for his return. A boyhood giggle escaped from his mouth as he reached down offering his hand like an olive branch to his youth. His son smiled from ear to ear as he was lifted up to grab the nearest limb
  As the sun set they sat beside each other within this seemingly wizened old tree both knowing this was a special moment, a moment they would never forget...
This is more of a short story than a poem, so I'm not sure if I should be posting this. Not to mention it's outside my comfort zone
Saw you drop your car keys in the gutter
And I smiled
The letter fell to the ground in the pouring rain
Serves you right
Then the wind turned your umbrella inside out
And I chuckled at your folly
Soaking wet in your car and it wouldn't start
Then I saw you bent over the steering wheel sobbing
Then I didn't feel so smug
Then I regreted how mean I could be
I walked out into the rain and tapped on the window
"Can I help ?"
Schadenfreude - taking pleasure in others pain .
  Aug 2019 B D Caissie
Jamison Bell
When I saw you there in the rain. The red light from the drugstore sign draped over your shoulders. Your hair clinging to your cheeks and how the raindrops fell from your lips. And I thought about what you’d said before. That time in the car.
You went out and bought that fragrance. And I remember because the sun was about to call it a night. So it kissed you on the cheeks and I could see your breath as you let out a longing sigh. Your cheeks, left in a soft crimson afterglow.
Since then. I’ve been pondering whether or not I should cut out my tongue. Lest I say those words in the wrong order. The ones that can’t be taken back. The ones that stain the fabric of what we’ve woven. Though there are times I’m sure I was working this loom alone.
And so Andromeda waltzes onto the celestial stage in a dress of light and smoke. Wistfully twirling about a star speckled landscape as mysterious as she is mesmerizing. She leaves me with an enchanting sadness.
Exhausted fingers fall in thuds on the keyboard. Tired of raging against the might of apathy they trudge through a swamp of words. Scouring the sludge in hopes of finding just the right combination.
Before the echo of an empty whiskey bottle awakens the moon again. And the coyotes emerge from the tree lines to beg the moon for forgiveness. Could you tell me again? Could you tell me why? Just one more time.
  Aug 2019 B D Caissie
Traveler
You could never believe
Reality as I perceive
Waves of my realm
Flow like an angry sea
I gasp to hold on
As my shadow bleeds
But inside its calm
Where air flows strong
I gasp to hold on

On the shore of my isle
Reality crashes
Deep in my sleep
Frightening flashes
Perhaps these moments
Never existed at all
Reality is a state of mind
An interpretation of cause

I gasp to hold on
Hold on to my *****
.........................
Sorry
Babel of a mad man....
TT

Fear Inoculum
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