Rejected by parents
forsaken alone
One choice left to make
forever to roam  

The cost ever paying
their wages of sin
Steps of abandonment
traipsing within  

To beg or to borrow
the future on loan
The price of tomorrow
each moment unknown

With fate chasing after
both fortune and shame
A waif born to wander
—in search of a name

(Dreamsleep: July, 2023)

Holding on tight
to each moment before

The test results come
forever unsure

Reprieved for a day
condition unchanged

“Your numbers are stable
— but cancer remains”


(Ronald McDonald House: Phila. Pa, October, 2024)

Ability to free,
impossible to seize

The moment but on loan
past-future to deceive

(Dreamsleep: November, 2019)

The air I breathe,
the blood that flows

The light that shines,
the voice that knows

The question asked,
the answer ******

Tomorrow sold
—today on loan

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)

Borrow from a liar
  —but steal from the truth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Do you want education,
or just to get high

To reach your potential,
or pie in the sky

If it’s learning you want,
then take off the mask

That laptop you worship
—deceives future and past

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Stricken with blame,
enamored by praise

My words caught between
—to travel both ways

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Too wise for anything
but faith…
to be carried by angels
in love’s holy grail

The light in her eyes
to reign majestic
illumined by heavens
flowering dale

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)

You can’t close the door
that opens inside
Or bottle the morrow
today seeks to hide
You can’t erase feelings
like words on a page
Or trap a new lover
— with yesterday’s cage

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)

All
is finite
or infinite
the scientists say

Laying the
trap
that supports
their foray

If either
is neither
is or
something more

Entrapping
our freedom
and handcuffed
— unsure

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

“You may be declared the winner, Papa
—but you never beat the game”

(Grandson: Glastonbury Connecticut: November, 2021)

The bark of my knowing
is rotting away
With grain left exposing
what memory betrays
Those things I pushed outward
root deeply within
As the oldest of wood
—makes the best violin

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)

The power in his words,
the love in his eyes

The truth in his heart
—no time can disguise

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)

Christians flock into their churches,
travelers hit the road

Searching for what’s beyond their view
in spirit overload

To leave behind the past imprisoned,
stilted and controlled

The blacktop chanting “come what may”
—a eucharistic whole

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

I look upon the angry ice
and men that prowl its form
to stab and poke in rich delight
a chance to ride the storm

With blades on fire and sticks held high
they weave and crash as one
in search of that elusive net
—still guarded and unwon

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

I’m not asking for approval,
that belongs to time
The spoken words I cherish most,
to you seem out of rhyme
I’m not asking for acceptance,
my muse rejects your praise
In darker moments light is found
—your comments weakly phrased

(The New Room: December, 2021)

Living at maximum RPM,
the world outside surrounds me
Setting traps and digging holes
to slow my motion down

I bob and weave, increasing speed,
the pitfalls deep and mighty
Hunted for the threat I pose
—their treadmills overwound

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: July, 2021)

Outrunning his destiny
fate to rescind
chance in the rearview
reflections within

A moment to gather
a lifetime in chase
the wind bearing transit
—alone in the race

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

Shovel ready verse,
new soil to disturb

Whose well to make deeper
—its draft future heard

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)

Living after love departs
—life after death

(Dreamsleep: April, 2021)

Art nothing more
than an act of creation

Becoming Divine
every new inspiration

Tunnels of wonder
your fortune to mine

Time as the drill bit
— transcendence sublime

(Dreamsleep: August, 2024)

Sometimes …
there’s one poem
that opens your mind
And clears out
the cobwebs
that gather in kind
The words
defy entropy  
speaking as one
And pushing you
forward
— their mission is done

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)

If Sartre was right
and
“Hell Is—Other People”
then
Isolation holds the key
that
opens perception’s door

(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)

An unbridled affection for writing,
an unfettered attempt at the truth

An unbending rebut of excuses
—a Sage lost in the promise of youth

(Dreamsleep: March, 2017)

Writing empty spaces,
words taken away

Leaving a great silence
—where destiny plays

(Dreamsleep: August, 2021)

The lungs don’t work
—when the heart is broken

(Dreamsleep: April, 2020)

Leaving nothing to his children but cowardly shame,
his back turned toward the light

His memory the captor of a traitorous scheme,
capitulating through the fight

His legacy broken, his endowment recalled,
his reputation scorched and burned

Offering to the Devil his original sin
—with redemption twice suborned

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Hope may wane
and wishes fade
but art forever keeps
Dawn till dusk
till dawn again
incessance buried deep
Sculptors sculpt
and painters paint
as writers seize the day
Creation’s bridge
its toll insures
—tomorrow’s yesterday

(The New Room: September, 2023)

Like waking and
breakfast
it’s poetry first

The day is so
ordered
quenching my thirst

Each word like a
greeting
the day on parade

Each feeling
endemic
— another one saved

(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)

Adventure,
pursuit of awe
—celebration of the unknown

(Dreamsleep: July, 2022)

I offered you everything;
you took it all

Leaving me nothing
—no last curtain call

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

The only one along this road…
riding shotgun through my mind
Tomorrow waits for someone else,
lost wanderings consigned
Forgetting what the moment augurs,
living in the past
Confirming what I’m most afraid of
—behind whoever’s last

(The New Room: January, 2022)

The night shift…
working in anonymity
semi-detached
Finding a hidden
emptiness
blinding daylight always hides
Tying up the
looser ends
of conscious dislocation
Bringing you back
inside yourself
through darkness circumscribed

(Dreamsleep: January, 2023)

Rushing forward,
pushing back
Light entrances,
then attacks
Preying darkness,
shadows hide
Lumined future
—demons cry    

(The New Room: April, 2021)

Gone like September
from the wind
Gone like the Robin
from its wing
Gone like a child
from its laughter
Gone like the memory
of Spring

Gone like the Priest
behind his vestments
Gone like the hours
from the day
Gone like the waves
atop the ocean
Gone like the months
that lead to May

Gone are the reasons
from excuses
Gone are the moments
trapped in time
Gone is today
from tomorrow
Gone is the magic
left behind

Gone are the memories
from recollection
Gone the beginnings
from the ends
Gone every joy
from every sorrow
Gone what you broke
—but couldn’t bend

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)

It’s easy to criticize…
harder to know

The poison unleashing,
reflections aglow

Assumption to breed
where temerity hides

The lie in sheep’s clothing
—truth buried inside

(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)

Not alive enough to die…
lost between a heartbeat
and the bitter end
His spirit wept for
tomorrow
and for yesterday
Mourning all the
buried visions
—of what might have been

(The New Room: September, 2022)

I can’t draw,
but I paint

I still sin,
but a saint

I talk best
when I’m mute

All I’ve lost
in pursuit

I begin
at the middle

And end
at the start

To give back
to the silence

This thing
—we call art

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Lightly armed and uncommitted
—the question always turns to why

(Martha Brown’s Woods: January, 2021)

Cars line the highways
with their broken life inhabitants,
coffined tributes to a last wish that got away,
android druids in mock procession
—racing toward the end

(University Of Pennsylvania: January, 2020)