Poetry

Neither hobby
nor pastime
its grip ever
grows

Its hold on my
heart
through the drought
and the snow

Each word
that it sends me
each phrase
to impound

And blessing
the silence
my Savior
— resounds

(1st Book of Prayers: August, 2025)

Divine Wind

Shinto
or Buddhist
the Samurai
served

Their honor
and legiance
in blood
was preserved

The sword
as their mantle
and spiritual
Lord

Death
was their preference
dishonor
— abhorred

(Shinjuku Museum: October, 2003)


Betwixt & Between

Better or worse
those two oxymorons
Lying in wait
entrapping the weak

Lo  and Behold
they claim self-importance
Lo and Behold
thoughts watered and meek

Polar extremes
they float barely conscious
To lure you between them
and hold you quite mad

Bye after Bye
they muddle your choices
Bye after Bye
— good orphaned with bad

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

My Chronology
ages
as my writing
stays young

The years
in retreat
as each new song
is sung

A number
but unit
of folly
relayed

Whose essence
a symbol
of prescience
— in play

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Confronting
the devil’s lawyer
destiny entwined

Heaven and Hell
in the jury box
fate was on the line

The judge
Archangel Raguel
his verdict waits to scream

A sentence cast
in fire untold
— to **** the evil dream

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Soft marches
spawn bravado
and cavalier soldier
He who scoffs
at distant gunfire
to meet its fury
Untested untried
untempered
his blade of little worth
As conflict preys
on the folly
— of the paper lion

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Time
the ultimate
arbiter
of good and bad
Time
the final judge
and jury
— of right and wrong

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Traveling
alone
indentured
down the river
of time

The current
building
and pushing
me
beyond myself

My oars
are traded
for one last
look
around the bend

The anchor
buried
in tidal sands
of lost
belief

My compass
melted
to pay the
toll
of fates arrival

With rudder
steady
as blind
I rush
— into the falls

(Front & Erie Ave’s: August, 2025)

You don’t have to buy the land
to own the changing landscape
Whose vista priceless yours inside
to live in mortgage free

Or fly a rocket toward the sun
to view each day’s horizon
That comes and goes both East and West
in transitory joy

You don’t have to buy a car
to travel to tomorrow
New pathways wait beyond conveyance
old footsteps in the sand

Or buy a boat and sail the seas
to hear the ocean’s roar
The transience of each crashing wave
— a gift unwrapping free

(Ronald McDonald House: August, 2025)