One too many
mornings
Two too many
nights
Three too many
warnings
An apostates
delight

Four too many
judgments
Five too many
fears
Six too many
curses
Raining
— too many tears

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)

Did they dare you to be
what you already were
Your profile kept hidden
unshaken or stirred
To wander in your
unbroken discontent
A path that lies hidden
—by unspoken words

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)

The butcher
in a trance
this death
then many more
The cleaver
paused in motion
destruction
to the fore

The blood
is pooling downward
in images
besmeared
Its stain
a violent crimson
tattooing life
— with fear

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)

Defense of freedom
takes a courage
rare and dearly won

Through wars endured
with tyrants scourged
and despots on the run

The words in place
by Founders Ink
on parchment
closely held

As children roam
the halls of light
with precepts
— deeply felt

(The New Room: February, 2025)

Stealing your thoughts
a crime of dispassion
the penalty fatal
my name stays unknown

A larcenous caper
whose felony looming
authorities chasing
though lost will they roam

Returning your musings
a word to each notion
attached and delivered
through eyes that retake

Enlightened resplendence
unfenced by Jehovah
no borrowers promise
— this thief ever makes

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: March, 2025)

The woods never yawned
at the end of my stories
The streams never laughed
when I stuttered in haste
The mountains stood firm
when I lost my last footing
The sky understanding
in joy or disgrace

These natural things
forever behold me
Forgiving my weakness
rewarding my nerve
Their arms reaching out
through each change of the season
Pulling me onward
— my voice undeterred

(The New Room: March, 2025)

The older
I get
the more
my hunger
for knowledge
grows

The more
my hunger
for knowledge
grows
the younger
— I get

(The New Room: March, 2025)