The Unknown Tower
Quiet & deserted.
A way to the top
The elevator hums, rising.

I step out.
I open the door, enigmatic.
I close the door,
Turn the kn⁰b…

Instantaneously
The cold metal snaps in my hand!
I am locked out.

A voice
Deep Inside !
"Have a glance."

Down,
Down, down,
Down,
Down, down…

I peer over the edge—
Acrophobia strikes!

A war ignites between me
& my unknown ‘Someone.’

I hear the voice again
It is not mine.
Or is it?

I scramble, trying to fix the kn⁰b,
But that 'Someone'—
Powerful, cunning—
A puppet master, a gaslighter,
A shadow pulling the strings.

I can’t think anymore!
Thoughts crumble like shredded paper!
Or did ‘Someone’ crush them for me?

"Do a high dive to nowhere!
Do a high dive to nowhere!
Do a high dive to nowhere!"

The voice pounds like a drum.

Drive,
Drive, drive, drive, drive,
Drive, drive,
Drive…

"My bébé, drive."

Once again,
The table is yours.
The table is yours.

Step forward.
Hesitation wanders, the fear of loss.
Look down.
No acrophobia!

The tower does not end.
The fall never stops.

I turn
& there is no door.

Goodbye.
Will you die to find yourself?

Your name seeps through the dusk,
a tremor coiled in the marrow of stars.
The wind unravels your touch—tender, but smoldering,
like an ember defying ash.

Distance etches its weight in sinew,
but even in this severance,
I taste the brine of your voice—a phantom tide,
summoning me home.

crazy foreign fare maybe you curdle defeat in the streets baring solar assault (you've fried your unit) harpy malicious harpies as bullhorns fact-fire biting into delirious fright-blight of abrasion upon your eardrums abstain (it's all an abusical !) refuse this parody the good night woe stains on your sleeves i belly believe you'll capture your death way out here at the merry least you'll pass a deathly coffin sneeze silly-silly breath breathe

Evening by Evening
Blue Midnights
WithIn Rose Midnights
She's more like Picasso
And Surreal as Moonbeams
With Tamborines that Shimmer
Like Waves, Doves that like Candles Sigh
Ballerinas that like Summer Roses Sway,
For a Love forever and a day
And Sunflowers whose petals
Like Nightingale wings and jazz dreams
Sweet WithIn the VineYards
Of the heart
I've Loved her from the very start
She loves to Be the Art
Her Beauty is more than it seems

Reynaldo Casison

Time drags its rusted teeth through the hours, carving paths I cannot follow.

Four years of severed threads, of reaching through fractures

where hands do not meet, where silence swallows what should have been.

You were small when I last held you, a weight I could carry, a warmth that fit inside my ribs.

Now you rise beyond the edges of my sight, a fire flickering in a room I cannot enter, a voice carried by winds that never return.

The world is made of locks, of distances built like cathedrals to the absent.

I have screamed at stone, at glass, at paper, at laws that wear no faces, at names that do not bleed.

I have torn at the seams of waiting, but limbo does not break"

it only watches.

Still, I dream in hunger, in fractures of light.

A moment where your name is more than a ghost in my mouth, where your laughter does not stretch through wires, through time, through static.

One day, I will stand beside you, not as a flicker, not as a whisper, but as something real, something whole.

Until then, I build futures in the dark, lay bricks in rooms I have never seen, sculpt a life that may never know me.

No force can break what is already broken.
No distance can erase what is already fading.

Nights unspool, threadbare and unspoken,
folding inward like paper never meant to be read.
Air thickens in the absence of weight,
a vacant gravity pressing against nothing.

I have stood inside mirrors that did not hold my shape,
watched glass ripple as if swallowing an afterthought.
Footsteps dissolve before touching the ground,
syllables decay before finding a mouth.
Sound moves, but not toward me.
Light bends, but does not stay.

They have names for the things I am not.
Soft words, dulled edges,
a kindness wrapped in misunderstanding.
But I have walked long enough to know
the difference between being unseen
and being erased.

Laughter hums in frequencies my bones do not carry,
a hymn for voices unfractured,
for hands that do not slip through their own grasp.
I have traced its outline, memorized its resonance,
a song played beyond a locked door.

Happiness is a language spoken in another room,
a warmth that does not cross thresholds,
a breath I have never drawn.
It moves past me like mist"
seen, felt, gone.

I have worn every shape, every silence,
have bent myself into something easier to hold.
But some voids do not hunger for filling,
some absences are not waiting to be undone.

If I reached for help, the air would take my hand.
If I vanished, the dust would not stir.
If I was meant to be more than a flicker,
the world must have long since turned the page.

Ohh
Mrs. Brilliant Chemist
Marry me
Don't resist!
Feed me~
With homemade psychedelics
Make my mind
Spin like a twist!

~~

D izzy

~~~