Not an academic
Poet
Not a tenement
Poet
Not a beat or a blues
or a church Poet
Not a famous or infamous
or celebrity Poet
Not an Irish or Basque
or Welsh Poet

Not a formal
Poet
Not a casual
Poet
Not the kind that takes
to the stage Poet
Not a tenured or membered
or club Poet
Not a for profit or glory
or fame Poet

… just a Poet

(The County Line: April, 2024)

The gravity
of space
The gravity
of time
Forging
perspectives
Relative
in kind
Newtonian
dogma
At sixteen
he knew
By curving
the axis
It changes
— the view

(The New Room: April, 2024)

Complexity wrapped
in simpler terms
Untying its ribbon  
— freeing the words

(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)

The arrogance
of conscription
the blasphemy
of denial

Abraham
shouting high above
to dam
the ****** Nile

We speak with words
deceptive
to try and steal
the peace

As blasphemy
that self destructs
in arrogance
— repeats

(The New Room: March, 2024)

She whispers in the night
to waiting dreamers

She whispers in the night
where tears have shed

She whispers in the night
to hearts abandoned

She whispers in the night
— and wakes the dead


(Ryszard & I: March, 2024)

America’s
faded glory
the polo field
reminds

Of years
of fleeting greatness
and hopes that lived
in kind

A child walks
the ball field
where ponies
used to tread

With memories
buried deep below
their grandeur
— all but dead

(The New Room: March, 2024)

Heaven
has no doorbell
Salvation
has no ring
The call redemptive
from inside
Where Angels
— flock to sing

(1st Book Of Prayers: March, 2024)