My heart bled
and writing
was an open wound
As words
poured out
in hemorrhaged pleadings
No suture
or hemostat
clotting their flow
The nearer
the end
the harder it pumped
In gushing
pulsations of
finality  
Bleeding out
what time
— could never give back  

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)

The chorus of criticism
echoes unblessed
Where millions hide waiting
misled and repressed

Destruction and mayhem
the rallying cry
With freedom the villain
— in hope’s genocide

(The New Room: February, 2025)

When a man
has nothing
The easiest thing to sell him
— is a dream

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)

Do I think
you can silence a poem
In a word
the answer is NO

Do I think
you can bridle a passion
You’d be better served
melting a stone

Do I think
you can marry tomorrow
Still married
to yesterday’s pain

Do I think
you can joyously wander
Locked in step
— with the devil again


(The New Room: February, 2025)

Knowledge
without proof
Belief
without doubt
Living
without fear
Rejoicing
— devout

(1st Book Of Prayers: February, 2025)

You look at me
and all feeling is absent
without understanding
or care

Calling me brother
remaining a stranger
defined by the
distance we share

Caught in the fury
of loves abandon
You wander inclement
storm raging inside

A ghost in the mirror
a twin of reflection
Two eyes that stare coldly
— across the divide

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)

Style and grace
I thought I knew
Until I spent
my life with you

The joy you shower
my luck to claim
The love you flower
— my hearts refrain

(Dreamsleep: January, 2025)