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 Apr 2021 LC
allure
we are but the sand and the ocean.
you are the sand
warm, fine, comforting, golden
people always seem
to walk all over you,
but not me
for I am the ocean
deep, brave, pure, peaceful
and I try so hard to get to you
but every time I push myself
I always end up trickling back to where I belong
it's not fair
I want to belong to you

c.p
 Mar 2021 LC
Lori Jones McCaffery
Clutching my sanity ever so tightly,
My fingers cramp at the effort.
I don’t know how long I can hold on.
The life in that other world
Creeps up behind and grabs me.
I’m gone before I can say no.
What happens if I lose my way back
To this reality’s landscape.
Fighting to stay in the here and the now
I feel that I’m losing the battle.
My legs ache from running
And my arms hurt with swinging
But I mustn’t accept their kind invitation
To take up residence in that misty place
And finish my life with those other people.
I mustn’t let go - I’ve got to hang on.
If only I had a guardian angel.
ljm
Sometmes my daydreams seem a little too real.
 Mar 2021 LC
Kai
The Storm
 Mar 2021 LC
Kai
Notes weep through air
As dusk falls soft and fair
Windows high and bright
Bring golden glimmer of city light
We sit still, edge of frame
Engrossed by succulent tune
Fingers on black and white tame
The keys of eternal stories old.
They play melody of ages
Cross time, turn of this century
What has been shall rise anew
Whispers through air, chaos grows louder
Above still and silent trees of town
Ask nothing while they patiently wait
Droplets from the inbound storm.
 Mar 2021 LC
Wick
I want to be me
 Mar 2021 LC
Wick
but i cannot be
for i am not free
i am shackled
by people's expectations, the responsibility
to make them happy
to make them feel not hurt
even in times when i feel like dirt.
Even when i'm down,
i cannot be me
because, only as dirt can i help them grow
to help them heal
to make them feel loved and appreciated
for their need for validation to be constantly satiated
only as dirt, can i help them bloom
to be the person they need to be.
Son. Lover. Brother. Friend.
i am always another
but i am never me.
 Mar 2021 LC
Poetria
good man
 Mar 2021 LC
Poetria
(i)

when you are good
i soak up your goodness
like a plant under the sun
green for just a season

(ii)

when you are good
you hold a roof above my head
you sew a smile across my face
i question what goodness is

(iii)

when you are good
it hurts my eyes to look at you
you burn across the universe
it hurts to look at anything at all
the people who hurt you can be good to you too. how do you learn how to stop loving somebody you've loved for a lifetime?
 Mar 2021 LC
Lori Jones McCaffery
It was 12 months filled with apocalypse
That started at the stroke of the New Year.
The more we tried to make life good
The faster it turned bad and wrong.

A wave of illness washed ashore
Like a flash flood of bacteria.
Even those who laughed at it
Were suddenly mowed down.
We hid like cartoon hermits
In our household caves of safety.

The Grammas and the Grampas died alone,
And soon their grandkids followed them.
The jobs shut down, the schools all closed.
And children could not understand
Why Mommy was their teacher.

The populace was out of work;
Their income disappeared
And folks lined up in endless queues
To get a box of canned goods.

We struggled to avoid the ones
Demanding their God given right
To sneeze and cough from naked faces,
As masks were just for Democrats -
The constitution said so.

All holidays were sacrificed
To the Gods of the Pandemic
Forced to barricade ourselves
Against the breath of others,
We all learned to breathe through paper.

Mother Nature joined the fray -
Mud slides, hurricanes and floods,
Each setting some new record.
        
The West Coast exploded into flames
While the East Coast froze in blizzards
And Tornado Alley blew away.

The sun chased all the rain away
From Arizona’s rocky hills,
For almost two hundred scorching days,
While Mercury reached one-oh-nine
For a blistering ninety-nine of them.

The weather took a slingshot to Nevada
Spring and Fall both disappeared
In unrelenting heat.
Weather played a ping pong game
With thirty degree swings for fun,
And gale force winds for amusement.

The year became an endless Summer
Dog days vaulted over Spring
And every day was August.
Autumn never had a chance
As Winter barged in months too soon.

The weather imitated life
It wasn’t long til politics
Became a quagmire of discord
When an unlikely President
Set out instead to become a King
And join the despots he admired.

As everything went bad and wrong.
Children found themselves in cages
While their parents were sent home
And often lost to them forever.

Around the world they laughed at us
And his parade of sycophants
Who aimed to tear down common sense
And use the bricks to build that wall.

While those with any moral code
Tried vainly to restrain the one
Who claimed to have the biggest brain
Yet startled everyone in charge
With weathervane decisions.

Racism grew with media’s help.
We saw unarmed people die
In graphic form repeatedly.
Black men died in frightful numbers,                                      
Too often with bullets in their back.
And once a knee across the neck
Which proved the final, ugly straw.

That drove the crowds onto the streets,
Where they were joined by Bovver Boys
Who longed to only loot and burn
And turn peaceful protest into riots.

Egotism gone awry
Sent Jack-boots to the Portland streets
With women hustled into vans
While Third ***** vistas came to mind
And Half the city Burned.

Amidst the flailing of his flock,
The Nation’s Shepherd ditched his staff -
Abandoning his sheep, but not his golf.
His only thought, to keep his crown
And stay as King atop the hill.
In desperation to find a way,
He prattled on his fairy tales and
baldfaced, maskless lies.

The righteous folk had had enough
And turned the bully out
In numbers not to be denied,
But he refused to yield his throne
And tried a hundred ways to stay.

Those he danced on Ginsberg’s grave
In order to give candy to

Were supposed to stay his loyal friends
But even they refused the claim
That all his bean bags had been stolen.

He riled the Black Sheep of his flock
To swallow his mendacity
And urged them to stampede for him
And desecrate the country’s home
While he enjoyed it on TV.

Silenced on the air at last
He skulked back to his golden heap
For golfing in the Palm Beach sun
And subterfuge behind the scenes.

Getting past the bile and guile
Will be the next big project.
But we’ve elected one who can,
And normalcy will rule again.

Quiet now, we wait and see
If decency will have a chance
To save us from the boggy swamp
To once again be who we really are.
ljm



Google: Bovver Boots UK
This took months to write and I'm still not satisfied with it but I have to move on.
 Mar 2021 LC
Kawa
“Falling in love” is a contradiction in itself, because in love there is only the rising, the ascending, not the falling.
You can not fall in love, but rather, rise.
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