It wells up inside me,
but words will not come

I reach for them desperate,
the mood zero sum

My insides are shaking,
all peace is recalled

The rumblings foreboding,
complacency falls

My mind is locked down,
my speech has gone mute

Like a great locomotive,
the first word breaking through

The dozens that follow
keep me pinned to my chair

As voices I know
start consuming the air

My brain is on fire,
my will starts to melt

Time sacrificial,
what’s heard and then felt

My pen has unfrozen,
in timeless delight

Directing this journey
—from darkness to light

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

She whispers in the night
to waiting dreamers

She whispers in the night
where tears have shed

She whispers in the night
to hearts abandoned

She whispers in the night
— and wakes the dead


(Ryszard & I: March, 2024)

Clothing the world
in hate and destruction

Shame is the loom
that weaves damnation

(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)

The bigotry of isolation,
prejudice of despair

The future in your rear window
—abandoned beyond repair

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July: 2020)

Heaviest is the heart
—that wears the frown

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)

Is there room
in your ignorance
for truth to creep in

Are the doors
closed and locked
from inside and within

Will the light
truly gifted
pass over and by

Is your meadow
a wasteland
—and haven for lies

(Dreamsleep: November, 2023)

In times of war
law remains silent
All doves in flight
—before the storm

(Dreamsleep: September, 2023)

Two contradictions
meet intertwined
Are they or aren’t they
YES, the reply

The black hole of reason
dark matter of mind
Imploding explosions
— together in kind

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

The top of the mountain
—how do you spell alone

(Dreamsleep: May, 2020)

Language
is required
to go insane

The beasts of
the forest
politely refrain

Words
ever forming
into a net

Trapping
insanity
—the tighter they get

(Dreamsleep: February, 2023)

His image eternal,
the chisel portrays

Beauty in its purest form
—but one word to say

(Villanova University: October, 2020)

The only thing permanent  
about peace
—is impermanence

(Dreamsleep: July, 2023)

A new century waits as the minutes
progress
into hours of vestibular begotten memory

My thoughts being counted although I
resist,
my feelings in service to what’s left behind

The sun and the moon trade in bartered
romance,
each jilting the other as day turns to night

Another year is recorded in the serpentine
past,
what’s seen a mirage—what’s measured retained

(The New Room: March, 2021)

If Poetry’s a hobby
your muse is entropic
Fading and dying
— as silence awaits

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

The devil in the details
—hell the final sum

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)

Too craven to take his own advice,
he stumbled over time

A distant echo of what he proclaimed
—an alien unrhymed

(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)

What is faith
but a journey
What is time
but a moment
What is truth
but a figment
What is love
— but goodbye

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

Dimensional slippage
conceived from without
Length, width, and height
time squared thereabout

Spacetime endemic
on gravity’s spire
Black Holes ill rumored
supernova inspired

Fourth, fifth, and sixth
but then nobody’s sure
With logic’s deception
embraced more and more

The system it’s flawed
in both structure and form
Pulling you into
the physicist’s norm

Till that day you falter
and turn from it all
When the out becomes in
— and you answer the call

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)

Once I was zoetic,
and words became life

But now I am dead
—and death becomes me

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)

I’ve yet to meet two artists
who really like each other

The cobra and the mongoose,
locked in a mortal embrace

They say the same prayers,
as they swear the same allegiance

While hating what the other does
—and who the other is

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

The gallows were offered,
guillotine chosen

Executioner a matter
of choice

The sinner repentant,
evil now lessened

Death calls
—in a welcoming voice

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

On a silver platter
of broken dreams

Your nature changes,
as death comes near

The buffet wanton,
a dessert of fright

Served incarnate
—café of tears

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)

It was the 3rd day of the battle,
and thousands lay dying or dead

Lining the edge of the smoke and chaos,
the roses and daisies were spread

The screams in the night were ungodly,
sounds of cannon fire ruling the day

With blue and grey bleeding side by side
—the flowers in joyous array

(Gettysburg Pennsylvania: March, 2020)

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wingless flightless bird
Distant echo of keystrokes past
—lost abandoned words

(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)

With memory escaping,
you stare down the hall

From that place where you hang,
last nail in the wall

You once were a sovereign,
you used to be real

What death left in tribute
—your portrait conceals

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2020)