In their formative
moments
artists live alone
Sharing themselves
only when
the pain has dulled

In corners
of dark musings  
their spirit’s hide
Calling out  
whenever the lights go down
— and the rush is gone

(The New Room: May, 2025)

I had
all the wealth
And I had
all the fame
I had all
the glamour
One life
could contain

I had
all the friends
And I had
all the foes
That now sit
as equals
On the end
of my nose

I had
all these things
But one message
rings true
To have
and to hold
Is but folly
— adieu

(Rhymes From The Nursery: May, 2025)

The older
I get
the simpler
it seems

Each day
growing freer
divorced from
my dreams

Each year
brings the seasons
of Summer
through Spring

And months
in transition
new changes
they bring

The answers
I chased for
those questions
I asked

Rest quietly
dormant
in the future
and past

As time
now a mistress
no longer
a wife

My world’s
come full circle
in this magic
— called life

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

The loss of
each simple
thing
hurting the most
When drama
subsides
and time slows
to its worst
Your shadow
still living
inside of my
pain
To darken each
heartache
again
— and again

(The New Room: May, 2025)

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)