The gray dawn baptized,
—a child of night

Salvation hostage,
—imprisoned light

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

I've walked at a peculiar
angle

As I've laughed at peculiar
circumstances

I've aged in the most peculiar
of vacuums

And went on to love in the most
normal of ways

I've worked in a spirit
of defiance

As I've traveled the many miles
from compliance

I've lived within the confines
of the moment

And written of those things I
could never speak

I've seen the footsteps of
giants

Made by the intrepid feet of the
smallest of men

As the mirrors of my past have risen
in blind reflection

I've come face to face with
the only adversary I will ever fear

I've asked the age old questions
knowing there are no answers

I’ve taught the unschooled a language
they will teach again

I have vowed to seek recovery
for what the iconoclasts have broken

Until truth reclaims from power
  —what was heaven sent

(Philadelphia Airport: August 1st, 2015)

A walking contradiction
  like all those who bleed

‘My heart headed one way
  my mind in the lead’

‘My mind headed one way
  my heart in the lead’

A tale of two visions
—the truth in between

(Train From White River Junction: March, 2018)

Pain in the doing,
  ease in the writing

Memory calls distant,
  words answer back

Time of no meaning,
  experience flows

Images resurface
—feelings attack

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)

To the ladies,
  my youth

To my children,
  my love

But to forever,
  my words

As my gift,
—evermore

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Chasing my thirst into the
  desert at night,
  Otis Redding was right….
   “You don’t miss the water till the well runs dry”

And marrying the wrong woman
  for the second time,
  Smokey Robinson was right….
   “You better shop around”

Writing my pen empty with the
  same old words,
  Cat Stevens was right….
   “The first cut truly is the deepest”

And living in Macon because
  I thought it was safe,
  Charlie Daniels was right….
    “The devil did come down to Georgia”

Losing my religion only to
  seek God again,
  Robert Plant was right….
   “You can’t buy a stairway to heaven”
  
And when I’m alone and desperate and have
   nowhere left to turn,
   Bob Dylan was the most righteous of all….
   “When you ain’t got nothin, you got nothin to lose”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Laid solid with words
  the writers stone
A fortress was columned
  my only real home

The poetry was safe there
  it stammered and tried
As my feelings unbridled
  from the outsiders lies

Each year added layers
  to this home of the verse
My thoughts never silenced
  or my feelings there terse

All that’s needed to go there
  …unfettered belief
All that’s needed to know
  is that time is the thief

My vision unshaken
  from this chair with two wheels
The advice from the experts
  “to wither and yield”

But my place more than sacred
  an invincible throne
Independent of body
  times seed to unsow

And the moment before
  I take my last breath
I will enter forever
  where before I had left

The trumpets will sound
  as immortality calls
To that space then my refuge
  the sum of it all

As the memories unreason
  the facts storm again
But the tents of my solitude
  keep out their wind

For generations that follow
  and their children that ask
This place I now dwell in
  for all hard and fast

Just believe in its message
  and its fortune to change
Just believe in transcendence
  with all things the same

Until the day that that final
  trumpet may blow
And all that you’ve loved
  is all there’s to know

Your message then solid
  as the door opens wide
And those moments you’ve gifted
  to the heavens arrive

And the joy that you feel
  thinking back on it all
From that place deep inside
—where first destiny called

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

Poetry…
  arresting the mundane
  acquitting the spirit

Convicting
   all redundancy
    —freeing the truth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)

I wandered by an autumn stream
  looking for what’s past

I slept inside a winter dream
  searching for what lasts

I strode the paths of springtime crossed
  listening for a song

Whose words, that now to me are lost
  —in summer called so strong

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2013)

Born to the same words as you,
  the feelings were my own

Language shared, intention spared,
  a vision fully grown

Our words converse, in separate verse,
  your prose unto my rhyme

To search that darkest hidden place,
  two footsteps out of time

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

The intrinsic beauty
  of the present moment

Exploding our consciousness
  rewriting the hymn

Outracing the words
  to an epiphany of reflection

Outpacing all time
  —absolution within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Can you write in spite of comment,
  can your soul withstand the pain

Can you free those words hid deepest,
  can you shoulder all the blame

Can your heart and mind together,
  walk arm in arm as one

Can you take a breath once finished,
  knowing now,
  —your song has sung

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Can we ever know creation,
  can we ever reach the source

Can knowledge of its power,
  transcend this mortal course

Can we join in transformation,
  as the old is new again

Is there really a salvation,
—where the truth is freed of sin

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Purity weds corruption,
  a marriage unrhymed

An Angel having fallen
—damnation defined

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)

If you live your life fully, death approaches as a
   friend

If you’ve risked it all, holding nothing back,
  his greeting will not offend

If you exceeded your limitations, you are finally no
  longer constrained

If you’ve given back more than you hoped to receive,
—the wind whispers forever your name

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

My ticket punched, my fares been paid,
  the train sits waiting, rails now laid

My ticket punched, the whistle blows,
  its light shines distant, truth aglow

My ticket punched, the past on hold,
  the future scorned, the present bold

My ticket punched, a burning thirst,
—a heart to quench, new tracks in search

(Villanova Station: March, 2017)

Keeping emotion inside
   the words go mute

Casting decision aside
  each choice less acute

New feelings unbirthed
  words fatherless stray

The future untold
  —tomorrow, today

(Villanova, Pennsylvania: May, 2016)

Stricken with blame,
  enamored by praise

My words caught between,
—and travel both ways

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Refusing to fight the major war,
  the war based on principles,
  the one we can win

We’re forced to fight a never-ending series
  of political wars….
  ones that we can only lose

We’re trapped in the middle of Appeasement River
  and headed for Chamberlain Falls
  terror awaiting in the rapids now ahead

Slowing down the current or rowing harder wont
  save us, it only extends the time of our demise,
  capitulation pulling us under toward the roar

As a country, we’re now in the middle of that river
  arguing over who has the water rights….
  arguing over whose paddle is best

Until we get off the river and back on dry land,
  Chamberlain Falls will continue to pull
    —and Armageddon will continue to call

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

An ounce of experience
—is worth 1000 lbs. of why

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2014)

Sleeping with Laura
  and not making love

Lost in her aura
  and thoughts from above

Sleeping with Laura
  all vanity chaste

A feeling impregnates
  —the blame heaven laced

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  selling his blood for a few kernels of grain

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  pandering to others in search of a name

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  drunken talk-show appearance, stumbling again

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  the strongest of liars—the weakest of men

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)

Stepping off the edge
  and into the fog,
  —I cast my fate

As time then dared
  all blinders off,
  —the hour late

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Writing for tomorrow,
  today is enhanced

Writing for tomorrow,
  my mind and heart dance

Writing for tomorrow,
  my place is affirmed

Writing for tomorrow,
  my name is confirmed

Writing for tomorrow,
  the future reeled in

Writing for tomorrow,
  new moments begin

Writing for tomorrow,
  old crucibles filled

Writing for tomorrow
  —the present instilled

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Here today and gone tomorrow,
  the worm can quickly turn

A sun last set, all vision spent,
—the sum of what you’ve learned

The baton is passed, your race has run,
  the finish line now crossed

With memories firm and wishes free,
—your soul its only cost

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)