Making eternity
out of a moment
Escaping
the pretense of time
Beginnings
and endings
Falling away
in one enduring rhyme

Making eternity
bend to my will
An Angel
comes to dance
Wings on fire
Horae’s lyre
The instant christened
—another chance

(The New Room: June, 2023)

Too much honor
kills with impunity

The intrepid among us
—perdition surrounds

(Dreamsleep: May, 2021)

On the quietest of nights
I can now hear its roar

This current hides calmly
what fate has in store

Its crashing is consummate,
my drowning awaits

Last bend now approaching
—the hour grows late

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August: 2020)

Refusing to obey
he took command
The power not given
but by his hand
Looking no further
he forged within
The years and the seasons
aboriginal sin

Broken commandments
rust on the gate
Eyes burning inward
past-futures abate
Refusing the mandate
of time’s desperate plan
He slew first the minutes
—as the hours remand

( Dreamsleep: February, 2023)

Having everything you need,
  how much richer could you get

Feeling everything God given,
  how much luckier even yet

Knowing everything presented,
  how much smarter might you be

Your life shared with then another
  —how much joy could you foresee

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
         From ‘The Book Of Prayers’

Tonight through the darkness,
  I wander and crawl

The faces all ghoulish,
  my past to recall

Unsure of direction,
  I listen for sounds

To possibly guide me,
  as fire abounds

I look to my left,
  as hooves thunder past

I look to my right,
  and Beelzebub laughs

All color has gone,
  just the fieriest red

I live out my fear,
  I live out my dread

One hope then to muster,
  that faith remains true

And guides me inclement,
  past demons anew

My despair almost total,
  my regret full in charge

I squint through the smoke,
  “there’s new light from afar”  

I plod on my knees,
  as it grows bigger still

And the temperature drops,
  and the moment refills

Now free of damnation,
  my life starts again

With sacred commitment,
  forgiven of sin

My tomorrows all cherished,
  I live for today

Belief my true savior
  —as humbly I pray

(West Philadelphia: May, 2019)

Tonight through the darkness,
I wander and crawl

The faces seem ghoulish,
my past to recall

Unsure of direction,
I listen for sounds

To possibly guide me,
as fire abounds

I look to my left,
as hooves thunder past

I look to my right,
and Beelzebub laughs

All colors have gone,
just the fieriest red

I live out my fear,
I live out my dread

One hope then to muster,
that faith remains true

And guides me inclement,
past demons anew

Despair almost total,
regret full in charge

I squint through the smoke,
there’s new light from afar

I plod on my knees,
and it grows brighter still

As the temperature drops,
and the moment is chilled

Once free of damnation,
my life starts again

With sacred commitment,
forgiven of sin

My tomorrows in passing,
I live for today

Belief my salvation
—as humbly I pray

(1st Book Of Prayers May, 2019)

Republican head
Democrat heart
Mired in conflict
Forever apart
Symbiotic division
Zero Sum in intent
Mutual destruction
—broken not bent

(Dreamsleep: October, 2023)

Sleeping inside my fury,
the predators keep away
Passing downwind of my ire,
seeking lesser prey

My strength is wrapped around me,
no more armor do I need
The fangs of lions, bears, and wolves,
break upon my sleeve

My campfire roars in anger,
the birds have stilled their wings
The tracks of blood I left today,
tomorrow’s path to bring

As ruler of this forest,
my range the great divide
To those who hear me coming
—upon whose fear I thrive

(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)

Etta was predicting
Stormy Weather
As Ray freed his
Seven Spanish Angels
Roy asked are you still
Running Scared
But Ella was smiling and
Watching Over Me
Peggy gave me that look asking
Is That All There Is
But Kris stepped in to
Help Me Make It Through The Night
***** reminding us all
How Time Slips Away
As Hank made his entrance
That Lonesome Whistle Blowing
Bobby was still bleeding from
Mack The Knife
As Frank flew in on
A Summer Wind
Aretha was breaking
That Chain Of Fools
While BB cried out
The Thrill Is Gone
Smoky was drowning in
The Tears Of A Clown
And Sam kept promising
A Change Is Gonna Come
As the Fat Man looked down
from Blueberry Hill
Elvis chased the
Hound Dog out the back door
But Brenda had our
Emotions running high
When Satchmo assured us  
—It’s A Wonderful World

(Dreamsleep: October, 2023)

She took her pain
and wrapped it around my heart,
tying us together in a misery
—from which we would never part

(Dreamsleep: May, 2021)

The only thing
we can be sure of
is death

The only one
we truly know
is ourself

Every time
a moment’s lost
a memory’s gained

Every time
creation mourns
—tomorrow cries  

(Dreamsleep: August, 2023)

We have few ways left
to assuage our guilt

Escape less an option
—new windmills to tilt

(Dreamsleep: June, 2021)

I put a saddle on the wind,
and rode it through the storm

The bridle placed, the buckle cinched,
the reins, my horse reborn

Inside each stirrup passion spurs,
the present now in hand

Behind whose mane I charge within
—in search of who I am

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

That cartridge in a ******’s gun,
true Poets **** with only one

The shooters bullet marked by him
one word to ****—what lies within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Are you able to afford
your fame
Gratuitous wanderings
chasing the flame

What you give up
for what you get back
In debt to the moment
past—future entrapped

(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)

Strength is whittled
as thought pervades

Indecision
—the dullest blade

(The New Room: June, 2021)

We live,
have lived,
and always will
—live in troubled times

(Dreamsleep: April, 2020)

Being self-titled
aristocrat pure
Heraldry solemn
liege a du jour

Knighted in fealty
loyalty’s throne
Crusading triumphant
—honor atoned

(Dreamsleep: July, 2023)

If wishes were dreams
—eternity could sleep

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

If we were young men,

  if we were strong

If we had fresh words,

  to add to our song

If we were soldiers,

  with war in our veins

If we were poets,

  our voices reclaimed

If we were lovers,

  of women that cried

If we went wandering,

  our hearts reapplied

If we were statesmen,

  the world in our grasp

If we were sailors,

  the wind at our backs

If we were farmers,

  with meadows so green

If we were actors,

  on stages supreme

If we were hunters,

  new wolf on the prowl

If we were dreamers,

  all wishes allowed

If we were young men,

  still facing the sun

But alas, we are old

—and darkness has come



(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

“Dying is a wild night
and a new road”

Then

Darkness is passion untamed
—on a highway to hell

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)

Patches on the quilt of life,
letters sew not rend

Memory darning time to time,
future warmth depends

Words left tattered, words that bind,
ragged breath portends

To stitch it once and have it last
—tomorrow on the mend


(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
Inspired By Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Ronnie Van Zant
“If It Ain’t Worth Remembering, It Ain’t No Good"

First it was rain and then it was snow,
if it’s not one thing it’s another

Once in the dark and now in the know,
if it’s not one thing it’s another

The journey long, the destination obscured,
if it’s not one thing it’s another

Redemption the promise, damnation assured
—if it’s not one thing it’s another

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

What is this one life really worth,
the price of many sins

What is that one last question asked
—if never to forgive

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Where have all the
Poets gone

Where are all the
songs unsung

Where does the mystery
unravel sublime

Where does the majesty
reach the Divine

Where does tomorrow
turn into today

If not for the Poet
—we've all lost our way

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Can God do what he cannot do,
can a circle then be squared

Can choices made be taken back,
their history stripping bare

Can memory lapse and then recall
the things it chose to miss

Can time be stopped as life goes on
—there chained to ne’er exist

(The New Room: October, 2021)

What good is a poem,
not to incent or inspire

Just flowering verbiage,
growing out of the mire

What comes from our verse,
if not truth yet released

Each word to enlighten
—our souls to beseech

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)

If Art
is our connection to the senses

Then Poetry
is our connection to the soul

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

What if you die
with no knowledge you’re dead
in the ground or the oven
no tears to be shed
What if you die
with the door closing tight
memoriam ended
devoid of the light

But what if you die
and a Voice filters through
a Voice you remember
from when you were new
And after you die
a Hand reaches down
pulling you back
— your soul Heaven bound

(1st Book Of Prayers: April, 2024)