When I was
a young man
I wrote as
a young man

Needing music
and art
to deal
with the times

But now
as an old man
my heart
chases neither

While dwelling
inside
what this moment
— has found

(The New Room: April, 2025)

Verbal
irrigation
streams
that rush and flow
Tributaries
far and wide
messages
in tow

Watering
the wasteland
Arid lulls
retreat
Freeing what
the silence hides
and reticence
— defeats

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

‘Normalcy’
has its
depression
built in

Mundane
and ill formed
life hiding
from sin

Each day
like the former
unseasoned
and bland

With time
in the freezer
hope frozen
— and canned

(The New Room: April, 2025)

When I look up at the sky
My tears turn to dust
Into mountains of sand
And eternal mistrust
I beg on my knees
To relieve all my pain
When nothing is ventured
Then nothing is gained
And so I take steps
That may lead me astray
As the sun hides in clouds
And the day turns to gray
I put 1 foot in front of the other
And make strides towards a goal
And I feel a sense of empathy
Deep down in my soul

Neuroscience
takes a world class meal
grinds it into bits
and tries to convince us
— its taste has improved

(Villanova University: April, 2025)