They come to me phrases,
  crying out to be whole

One last bridge to cross,
  no fare for the toll

Prodigal wanderers,
  not spoken or heard

My breath used as payment,
—conveying their words

(Villaova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Forty-five caliber abstract
  targets big and small

Bullseye in the mirror
  memories recalled

Warning shots abandoned
  prey now closing in

One last bullet chosen
—fired from within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2018)

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
  the night has a thousand eyes

The music fades, past dance is done
  the future’s siren cries

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
  all prophecy would say

Your father deaf, your mother blind
  bequeathed of both you pray

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
  last chariot at the gate

New flames have come, the beating drums
  the lots have cast your fate

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
  one choice to leave or stay

Deception fore, with lies behind
  —time killing either way

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)

How do I exit gracefully,
  how do I end it all

Can I rewrite the terms again
  before the final fall

The kids now counting every day
  the moments still all mine

The days and weeks of years gone by
  a measure now defined

How do I finally say goodbye
  and start anew again

This world peeled back against itself
  no more left to befriend

Regret a word best left behind
  for others who have sinned

Stepping into eternity’s vault
—last check to cash within

(Train #56 ‘Vermonter’ To White River Junction Vt. 3/22/2018)

You can listen with hope,
  or listen in pain

But listen you shall,
  as my words will explain…

“You were left in the shadows,
   neither empty nor full

“With a decision impending,
   a test of your will

“Your choice will define,
   what you praise or deny

“Will you now come together,
    in the truth or a lie
  
“Do you carry on blindly,
   or reach for beyond

“What your comfort will dictate,
   as your courage responds

“One path ends in darkness,
   one reaches for light

“Your tracks through the umbra,
    that fear leaves in blight

“It’s down to that moment,
   last chance to define

“Will your search end enlightened
   —or in twilight behind”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)

The older I get
The less people to call
Is it by choice
My spirit's downfall

The older I get
The less then to care
A life once so pointed
With little to share

The older I get
Beginning to end
The ones that stood by me
The ones I called friends

The older I get
Meat gone from the stew
The faces just names
Of those I once knew

The older I get
Doors lock from within
A constant reminder
The blaming now stings

The older I get
The less people to call
No sand in the hourglass
—last curtain to fall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)

To change one word and rock the world,
   a verse now dancing free

Its weight unmeasured, breadth untold,
  whose key unlocks the dream

The bottle open, the genie gone,
  last domino to fall

One word pulled out, or inserted in
  —new meaning to enthrall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

To change one word and rock the world
   a new verse dancing free

Its weight unmeasured, breadth untold
  whose key unlocks the dream

The bottle open, the genie gone
  last domino to fall

One word pulled out or inserted in
—new meaning to enthrall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Each breath gets me closer,
  as the past moves away

With choices much clearer,
  turning night into day

One meaning unchosen,
  its Angel benign

Forever most willing
  —last doubt now divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
       From 'The Book Of Prayers'

Should a tree be cut down,
  for missing a branch

Should the wounded be chastised,
  for taking a chance

Should the cup that’s been broken,
  forsake its last drop

Should a man be accountable
  —for what he is not


(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

Lost in the rambling,
  found in the writing

The words in the whisky,
  depravity’s eye
  
The story of one,
  a gift from the other

Released from tomorrow
—last ghost now set free

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

A Poet with nothing
  left to say

On bended knees
  gets down to pray

Belief on hold,
  his memory churns

Sleep comes hard
  dreams toss and turn

A new starvation
  fatal thirst

This deprivation
  unrehearsed

Last ounce of blood,
  the page is stained

No letters form,
  no thoughts remain

A Poet left
  without his voice

Dark road to travel
  single choice

The sun has set
  and not to rise

His final word
—a last goodbye

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

The older I get
the less people to call
is it by choice
my spirit’s downfall?

The older I get
the less then to care
a life once so pointed
now little to share

The older I get
to never defend
the ones that stood by me
the ones I called friends

The older I get
meat gone from the stew
the faces just names
of those I once knew

The older I get
doors lock from within
a constant reminder
that blaming can sting

The older I get
the less people to call
no sand in the hourglass
   —last grain set to fall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)

All time an illusion, this moment your gift,
  now is forever—soul never adrift

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

You is what you is,
  and you ain’t what you ain’t

The last Mojo Child
—of the love and the hate

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Blistering thunder
Cracking asunder
Craters form
High ground being torn
Its ledges are sharp
Concealed in the dark
The rain blows in gales
—ancient prophecy hails

Blistering thunder
Fate pulls you under
Vows you made
Point straight to your grave
Death’s legions await
You fall through its gate
Your last moment burned
—no more chances to learn

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)

There’s a zone beyond safety
  where the timid can’t go

Beyond reasoned decision
  intuition to flow

Past valor and triumph
  past glory and fame

There’s a zone beyond safety
—last moth to the flame

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)

In the middle—the center,
  a bullseye did hide

Its heart bleeding red,
  to target the lies

It cried out for justice,
  it cried out in pain

Until an arrow struck deeply,
  truth firmly ingrained

Its point forced its power,
its shaft driving home

A message of hope,
into falsehood atoned
  
And deep in your memory,
  a last orphan screams

Renamed in the vengeance,
—rebirthed in this dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

In the end
  we’re all mortal

In the end
  we all die

The end
  but a portal

Through which
  —we must fly

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

Do you seek protection
  from being alive

A turtle in its shell,
  a bee in its hive

Do you lust for new armor
  to cover your heart

To shield truth inflicted,
—life’s last poison dart

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Marking time in present tense
  old memories left to rust

The past a distant reverie
  its truth beyond my trust

Looking straight into the sun
  my eyes reopen wide

A last reflection staring back
  —remembrance so divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)

Can you rise above yourself
  to live and speak the truth

Can your parts reform and shun
  a past you now uproot

Can you become that special someone
  while others look askance

Can the lie you’ve lived before today
—get one last second chance

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2018)