I sat on the rocks
By the New Bedford docks
And waited for his boat to return

But the sun went to hiding
Bringing ever bad tidings
And a sea where last lessons are learned

My time spent in vain
For not even a plane
Could find a boat headed out of that storm

As the sea roiled upward
My hopes were dragged under
Which my soul was to curse and then scorn

And the streets emptied out
Churches packed and devout
As the old ones did swear and rebuke

The women all cried
With new legends reprised
As the Parson read words in tribute

Till at the church by the dock
From whence he had left
From its window I yelled through the tears…

“Look to the harbor this night,
  the mourning over, I sight:  
     —My Daddy’s Gaff Schooner is here”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

I play the highway one on one,
  the miles referee

And chase my spirit’s center line,
  direction up to me

The wind to fire the starting gun,
  with rules set long ago

All past and future curbside bound,
—this moment winning so

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

One vision
  one name

Two words
  —Grand Canyon

(Desert View Arizona: February, 2019)

Folding in to convention
Sealed in creases of acceptance
Maligned and misled
By the false promises
Of a stolen heart
We chase the white whale
Of validation
Into waters of denial…
  “Fury—the rallying cry
   of our vengeful spirit
   Hate—the jilted lover
   of our fated selves”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

The River….
Passing water
Through time
Its message
Deliverable
Beyond the millennia
Beyond the confusion
  —beyond

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2013)

You want it to make sense
You want it to become clear
Your feigned self importance
No longer precious or dear
But the only one caring
And the one still in doubt
A mirrored reflection
Of what never comes out
Lunch breaks upon you
Again eating alone
Your steak is still raw
Chewed right to the bone
The banter around you
Seems innocent and yet
The shroud that surrounds you
Wards off and deflects
“You gain nothing by trying”
You gain nothing you say
As you begin crying
For those cast astray
That girl in the tall grass
The one in your arms
Went to be with another
When you bartered your charms
Her daughter who’s grown now
Some say looks like you
Could it be then you wonder
When the times were so few
You pay the cashier
And slowly walk out
This bill had been dear
More than you had allowed
With the bone in your pocket
You head back to your desk
As the cry of a mockingbird
Decries and behests
Your pen then runs dry
As you again start to write
On your left eye a sty
All vision in blight
Only then do you notice
Hanging pink and in front
And you know that your future
Now a dog that can’t hunt
So you walk to his office
And sit down in the chair
You look at him soulless
And try not to care
He explains “That he’s sorry”
That “The timing’s not right”
He says that “You’re valued,
But be gone by tonight”
As you clean out your desk
A new feeling partakes
You look up to the ceiling
Knowing all that’s at stake
And that feeling is good
That feeling seems right
As the feeling then pushes
And the feeling alights
You decide now emboldened
To stop on the way home
At the house of that one
You left mistreated alone
You heard of divorce
And you wonder how bad
The damage it left her
Was it worse than you had
As you slow down your car
She stands in the yard
As you speed up your heart
She says “Directions, how far”
She does not recognize you
Have you changed all that much
She looks at you puzzled
As you long for her touch
And you drive away empty
As you drive away cold
And you drive away blackened
From your heart to your soul
But your path is now clear
Though you’ve no place to go
And those things that you’ve feared
Have now rightly been shown
As you walk in the kitchen
The door never had locked
Standing behind you still smitten
The one you thought had forgot
“Was that you in the car earlier
Was that you, really you
I couldn’t believe it
Because I still love you, I do”
   A reward wrapped in burlap
   The priciest kind
   Where if never rejected
   You are never to find
   So make just one more promise
   To then promise again
   To be true to your feelings
     —from beginning to end

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)

Art, the DMZ
  between wishes and dreams

Escape for the traveler
  —forgotten and lost

(Villanova Pennsylvania: Watching The Eagles 3-Hour Documentary: June, 2016)

Striving to be anonymous,
  the hole got deeper still

Ties were broken, ropes were cut,
  less water in the well

Alone within my loneliness
  the darkness came at last

The wish, I wish, I’d wished away
  —had captured me at last

(Flagstaff Arizona: February, 2019)

If words were notes upon a score,
  would the melody play beyond

Each phrase a chord, each line a hymn,
  each paragraph a song

If words could cry harmonic,
  as their letters drift away

Would music take you past that place,
—your words force you to stay

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

If you’re not willing to fight the fire,
—you're entitled to the flames

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

We’ve allowed our cities
  to turn into jungles

And now act surprised
  when the animals bite and maim

Refrain:

     “The new ‘Heart Of Darkness’
        the hunted unfree

      “Our surprise at their rebellion
        but the blame plain to see

      “A planned isolation
        the haves from have not’s

      “Now a cemetery of dreams
        —for dark progeny to rot”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2015)

Playing defense with terrorism,
  —another name for suicide

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Returning to what was,
  the past became death

All time in the coffin,
—eternity at rest

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

His bravery inspired
  a hero defiled

By one of his own
  whose spirit disowned

All memory attacks
  what never came back

   ‘from a war beyond
    winning or losing’

The best of the best
  too early to rest

His brothers in arms
  —his first choosing

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Different birds,
  the same call

Time frozen,
  the hour stalls

Mother earth,
  ******* son

Nature flees,
—damage done

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

Questions are often bigger
  than their answers

With horizons wide and spacious,
  timelines unrestrained

Questions often lead
  to other questions

With answers left to wallow
  —in a singular refrain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Everyone listened, but nobody talked,
  as the Vicar rode on by

His horse an old swayback, loaded with bibles
  stove hat pointing up toward the sky

Everyone listened, but nobody smiled,
  as the Vicar stormed and raged

“To hell in an instant, to hell you’re all going,”
   bony fingers turning the page

Monday till Saturday they spread their delight
  catch-as-catch-can, then again

But Sunday morning to awaken in fright
—and face the Vicars threatening hand

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)