Sebastian
couldn’t live
without saving
the walls
His paint
covering over
dire messages
scrawled

All passersby  
witnessed
each canvas
restored
Reframing
dark alleys
with hope
evermore

Sebastian
a warrior
of brush
and stroke fame
Graffiti
a pockmark
his quest
to disclaim

Alone
in his wander
where shadows
hold court
Each wall of new
slander
his palette
— retorts  

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

What stays
unwritten
silence claims
forever
— to remain unchanged

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

Not so much
a lie
with little
truth to tell

Not so much
goodbye
with greetings
gone to hell

Not so much
romance
with feelings
dead or pawned

Not so much
to dream
with sleep
— bereft and gone

(Bryn Mawr College: May, 2025)

When verses
run dry
do you hide
in despair
When the Muse
is on fire
only ashes
you’ll bear
With silence
embedded
on each
empty page
Your fear
is the foundling
that kindles
— the rage

(Ronald McDonald House: May, 2025)

Trimming fat
off his soul
he searched
for the bone

With every
new slicing
his consciousness
honed

All waste in
the fire
to sizzle
and fry

Excesses
like smoke
rise forgotten
— incised

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

Tall grass above
a sleeping dream
Hiding what
His promise deems

Embedded deep
within the blades
New whispers seed
as life conclaves

The sun to mirror
God’s new day
Each ray He grants
new hope in play

That rises softly
through night’s travail
An open petal
— as Grace prevails

(1st Book Of Prayers: May, 2025)

First
Last
(and)
Always
— say something

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)