Blue-grayish waves lap summer's sun-drenched beaches,
eternal, soothing rhythm, an enduring melody, into the soul it reaches.
Neighboring celestial bodies, conductors of the tides, creating eon's symphony,
        embracing, pacifying music: a choral harmony.

Placid, glistening lake with fall moon's luminescent splendor,  
silvery, reflective mirror, still and serene, lying quietly in slumber.
Bright, streaming rays, upon the surface, become as two entwined eternally,
        brilliantly flowing: a beacon of tranquility.

White, pristine snow upon the meadow on a winter's early morning,
softly sown, caressing Mother Earth, pure and alluring.
Sol's rays shimmering on crystal flakes, a mosaic luminosity,
        sparkling diamond facets: a blanket of serenity.

Dew-covered fields patched with spring's wild flowers,
dazzling array, vibrant and alive, displaying rainbow's colors.  
A zephyr stirs bouquets of aromatic splendor, emerging reality,
       a living portrait masterpiece--a canvas of vitality.

Nature, an ageless composer, conceiving kaleidoscope showcases,
perennial seasons casting actors on scores of different stages.
Wise is it, from time to time, to pause in awe and humble reverence,
      and view a master artist's majestic, grand performance.

A full crew, we went to sea
There are three of us left now
Eddie, Billy and me—
The first lost an eye, the latter a hand, and
I walk around on a stump
From an old, oak tree.

In search of adventure and glory
We set sail and cast off
Only two of us now to tell the story—
Ed is gone, Bill almost and
I sit on a pier
Dwelling on the ocean’s fury.

The sea has no need of sirens
For she is the queen of temptation
Drawing the young and the old
To her cold and merciless *****
To hold and to keep in her cradle
Those fools who would live forever.

As for us, we escaped,
Though we left behind body pieces.
Now it is only me that is still around
I think I will carve our tale
On this wooden leg and
Leave it to posterity.

Cold, permeable raindrops
Fuse with warm, flowing tears,
Coursing down craggy furrows of
An unforgiving headstone.
An anguished face pressed tightly
To a glistening granite slab--
A column etched with memories
That will not pass away.
“Here Lies” is a reminder
That she was not a dream,
That on this earth did walk
An angel sent to him.
Instead of giving love,
He offered her empty promises--
Hollowed, unfilled commitments
That tomorrow would be kept.
A softly muttered prayer says,
“Please forgive me dear,
This final oath I make,
Tonight I will be with you
To plead for one more chance.”

Mesons, quarks, neutrinos, too
Drawn inexorably
Into eternity
To a finite point
Called singularity;
Rushing, streaming
Toward one juncture,
To a destination
With unknown structure.
Swirling, speeding
Into the abyss,
Reason, logic
Cease to exist.

Space and time
Merge in disarray,
Matter altered too,
No night, no day.
Warped, transmuted
Realities,
Become twisted, melded
Finalities.
Inconceivable dimensions
Reign supreme,
Nature’s laws violated
To extreme.

Crossing the event horizon,
No turning back,
Into the precipice,
Down a void of black;
Facing the vortex,
Light gasps in disbelief,
A terminal journey starts
Without relief.
Stars and galaxies
Give a sigh
As they spiral in
And begin to die.

One day we too
Will meet this fate;
The only questions are
The place and date.

I fall to my knees,
Grab and grip the dirt in my hands.
The clods break into small pieces
With the slightest of pressure,
Slipping through my fingers
Like smooth sand.
It is the same dirt of my childhood.
The dirt I used to dig
To make smooth cup holes
In which to drop my marbles.  
The dirt I used to push and form
Into barriers and forts
To protect my plastic soldiers and me.
The same dirt my ancestors walked and worked.
The sweat, tears, and blood are all but dried, yet,
It still feels and smells just like yesterday’s.  
Nothing has changed except me.  
I feel as old as the dirt.

What is it that brings
Fear in the night?
Is it the goblins and ghosts, or,
The monsters ‘neath our beds?
Or, is it a desire to face the sun
At the moment of our death,
To die for the world to see?

Darkness, nowhere to hide.
It follows everywhere.  
A strong desire not to die
In dark, damp shadows,
Where not even the worms
Can find the body.
An all-consuming will to see
A sunrise, once more,
To lose the dread of having
To die alone…Flies
Will keep one company.
Yet, the terror begins to set
As the daystar gasps its last breath.
The light wanes once more, and
The chilly, wet breeze begins
To lap the nape:
Hairs on end, it comes again,
Loneliness and the reaching to feel.
Eyes squinting, desperate
To soak the day’s last rays.
Then uncaring, merciless nature replaces
Twilight with shadows of doubt.
The flicker of candlelight casts
Those same reflections and shapes
That plague your reality.
And you ask again:

Why you?  
Why is it you have to die?  
And, if this be your fate,
Can it please be by daylight?

What the future holds—
Life, promise, hope, joy, and love
Or death and despair.

A few good lessons:
The past is a great teacher
That many ignore.

A continuum:
Space and Time intertwine like
The vines of a rose.

Now or tomorrow?
For the procrastinator
The answer’s simple.

When will it all end?
War, poverty, and racism—
Only Time will tell.

I died years ago.
I was reborn when I found
The poet in me.

History’s lesson:
Those that repeat their mistakes
Are just poor students.

Some live in the past;
Others live in the future;
Few live in the day.

Past, Present, Future—
Somewhere in between one of these
Lies your destiny.