Hearing the promise
Open up in yourself
Proclaiming his goodness
Epiphany felt

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

The first responsibility of Poetry
  —is honesty

The second responsibility is to never
  forget responsibility number one

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

Dreams,
  radiant jewels of wishes and hope

Faceted light
  —of what tomorrow may bring

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Where do dreams go
  once you’ve dreamt them

Where do feelings go
  once you’ve felt them

Where does pain go
  once you’ve suffered it all

Where do memories go
  —once you’re gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2015)

Released from the prison
Of the extended word
Verse offered
Asylum
And a means of escape

Carrying me deep
To where the future-past  
Hides
All time to mislead
—as the present conflates

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2015)

Do you think you’re Heaven worthy
  for myself—I never have

The weight I carry pulls me down
  and keeps me off the path

I avoid most every mirror
  my reflection haunts me still

With eyes that stare like piercing lasers
  to maim, and then to ****

My spirit left in ashes
  my kindled soul to burn

Salvation buried in the coals
  —from lessons never learned

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)

Thoughts ignite
And words burn
As everything considered,
—turns to fire

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)

The jaws sing
As the drip, drip, drip,
Of the petroleum chorus
Dances across
The inverted aluminum
And the hissing starts
And the hissing stays
Its smell a warning
A final omen
Like the last rose
Of summer
Or the fragrance she wore
For that final goodbye
The teeth tear inward
Like the regret for today
And the regret for yesterday
And the lament for tomorrow
Its promise broken
And your khakis red
And baptized
A stigmata
To self infliction
As the music plays constant
And the rushing you feel
An emptying of sorrow
Onto the crushed ceiling
Of a dream in reverse
Of all life in reverse
Until two arms grab you
And you fall from the sky
And you fall from the sky
Waiting
For the ground
To coronate the outcome
And for one more answer
To a ‘why’ unquestioned
And to love you one more time
But the lights are now dim
And the voices muffled
As an ***** can be heard
And store bought flowers smelled
And an old woman cries…
As a young woman cries…
And a stranger pronounces
What you feared the most
They didn’t know you
And couldn’t know you
The exit sign flashing
But there is no door
“There Is No Door”
  —and then the music stops

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Slowing down the motor,
  running low on gas

The lies, the HOV lane,
  the truth off in the grass

The speed counterproductive,
  it warps and then transforms

The magic in the stillness,
  the beauty heaven born

The light becomes a blurring,
  as darkness settles in

Till stepping off the madness,
  and travelling within

That fatal rush to judgment,
   a quiet now sustains

One choice to stop the treadmill,
  —all motion rearranged

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

The magic of the instrument
travels down my fingers
and onto the page

Liberating my spirit,
as the laughter of a child
fills a room

Like a corkscrew,
first to pierce the miracle
inside the bottle

It releases my every mood
with its new introduction,
—calling me by name

(Washington D.C.: November, 2002)

Is Poetics
  a poem or a process

Is Love
  a lover or romance

Is Art
a painting or a vision

Is Worship
  a place or deliverance

Is Freedom
  a word or a statement

Is Family
  just blood that we share

Is Duty
  an oath or vocation

Is Truth
  just a wish—undeclared

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Nuclear Poetry,
  a single bomb drops

To wipe out the hate,
  to reset the clock

A megaton scream,
  its verse burns alive

The plague of excuses,
—deception and lies

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Labels,
  crutch for the unenlightened

Support system,
  for the crippled mind

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Knowledge first gained,
—the burden of youth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2013)

Can you be distracted by the critic
  or the public acclaim

Can you see through the fire
  and renew all that’s burned

Can you look past the signposts
  and those messages fixed

Can your heart stay undamaged
  as the world tempts your soul

Can you run through loud voices
  with yours still unspoken

Can you make it to tomorrow
  without leaving today

Can you give love to those hateful
  with vengeance recalled

Can you carry your grandfather’s words
  into the land of the unborn

Can you hang up your spear
  inside the enemy camp

Can you live to see the beginning
  and the end die at last

Can your voice remain pure
  neither bartered nor loaned

Can you listen through the smoke
   —for a melody unsung

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

Within the tragedy of a broken dream
   rages a fiery lost inferno

Where we burn in fearful anticipation
  —waiting for the alarm to sound

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2016)

Painting with words,
Sculpting with phrases,
Singing the moments away

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

My first breath every morning
   a thank-you to the Lord

My heart beats then in tribute
  single note in heaven’s chord

My last breath every evening,
  as I close my eyes to sleep

To thank him softly once again
—his grace now mine to keep


(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
  From ‘The Book Of Prayers’
  Written for my Grandchildren:
  Kiley, Hunter, Braden and Parker

Those times I was distant,
  those times spent alone

Those times I spent searching,
  so far from the throne

Those times when I questioned,
  the questions I asked

Those times never answered,
  those times that contrast

Those times that were gifted,
  those times that were not

Those times that were frozen,
  those times that were hot

Those times I spent chasing,
  myself being sought

Those times an illusion
—the moment self taught

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Too many choices,
  not enough reasons

Too many memories,
  not enough hope

Too many excuses,
  begging forgiveness

Too much to launder,
—not enough soap

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Every scepter, every throne,
  reverts again anew

The god’s, their will divided,
—an Iliad of ‘truth’    

A war of good intentions,
  paved avenue to hell

Honor shamed, by Zeus renamed,
—that horse where judgment dwells

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Sometimes,
  in the shadows
  of the early morning light

Resting in the
  shade,
  awaiting the beginning

And hiding
  from the end
  of all that’s unpromised

I watch
  the questions disguise themselves
  as often answered

And tuck
  new whispers soft within,
  —a certain change

(Chicago Illinois: July, 1977)

The morning bid welcome,
  the night said goodbye

The sun gave us reasons,
  the moon made us cry

The cycle repeated,
  the old freed the new

The darkness retreated,
—the spirit imbued

(Highpoint North Carolina: April, 2017)

Watching myself
Watching you
Standing alone
And looking through

Watching myself
Reach out through the pain
A shadow in the darkness
A tear in your rain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2016)

Memories,
die-cast in their emotion,
—catalysts of the soul

Without religion,
  where would we hide

What would be our reason,
  could souls justify

What would excuse the killing,
  cleaning deaths stain away

What would forgive tomorrow,
  for the sins of today

Without preaching dogmatic,
  what weight to our words

While unbaptized inside us,
—awaits the true Lord

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)