The truth of hope is faith
  —the hope of faith is love

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

The only thing
  that spreads faster than hate,
    —is love

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

Is a poem ever finished,
  a song completely sung

Does today end with tomorrow,
—is love forever young

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

No more book fairs or tours
  no autographs signed

My words are my gift
  the privacy mine

No talk shows or fetes
  New York Times to eschew

Questions unanswered
  —my thoughts unreviewed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)

Is it first the
Music
And then the
Words
Or do the
Words
Come first?
Elton John says it
Works
Either way
Bob Dylan’s
Words create
The meaning
That Ray Charles
And
Jimi Hendrix
Explode
Is all timing
Real
Or just
Imagined?
Is the structure
True or
False?
Do your words
Beget the
Melody
Or is your
Aria
—born alone?

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)

It’s harder to lie in verse or a poem,
  than it is with dialog or prose

It’s harder to bend the truth over a feeling,
than around what you or someone else knows

It’s harder to feign an eruption of light,
  or the isolation of being alone in the dark

It’s harder to mislead with a few chosen words,
  than with tomes that were written to outsmart

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)

It’s harder to lie in verse or a poem,
  than it is with dialog or prose

It’s harder to bend the truth over a feeling,
than around what you or someone else knows

It’s harder to feign an eruption of light,
  or the isolation of being alone in the dark

It’s harder to mislead with words formed in your soul,
  than with tomes that were written to outsmart

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)

Seven years of perfection,
  the memories still deep
  in my heart

A constant beginning,
  one vow
  that we never would part

With time and the seasons,
  and those reasons
  that neither of us chose

We fell dead like a mystery,
  unraveled,
  —its magic exposed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

The world is my mentor,
  eternity my judge

Each choice confirmation,
the ‘future’ ungloved

Time no longer master,
  to deceive or profane

All life in this moment,
—its meaning contained

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

My strength
Is that I am
Fundamentally
Unscientific
Not subject to the
Dissection
Of consequence
Or category
And not at the
Mercy
Of the scholastics
And nihilists
Who spend their days
Trying to reprove
That the whole is equal
To the aggregation
Of its parts

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Here today and gone tomorrow,
  the worm can quickly turn

A sun last set, all vision spent,
—the sum of what you’ve learned

The baton is passed, your race has run,
  the finish line now crossed

With memories firm and wishes free,
—your soul its only cost

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

The present blocked,
  by words unsaid

The pastures torn,
  its furrows bled

The present blocked,
  by words unsaid

The future cries,
—its orphans dead

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Life,
forever promising more

Death,
—its own reward

Bangkok, Thailand: January, 2009

My soul ancient,
  but my spirit new

The past a contrivance,
  the future untrue

My thoughts reborn,
  all feelings renamed

To christen this moment,
—its present reclaimed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

Is God to interpret
  and religion the why

Is forever too heavy
  to pledge bye and bye

Does the Devil provide balance
  to a concept in stone

Is he laughing inside us
  mocking all that we know

Is God left to children
   and those purest of heart

Is all truth chained to symbols
  has its lock come apart

Are the years there to change us
  is each day meant to count

Are the scriptures worth hearing
  if belief has to shout

To those fanatics among us
   yes, you know who you are

A power looms distant
  beyond testament’s scar

Its claim staked by no one,
  its icon’s unseen

And its reckoning comes
  —when you wake from this dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Is God to interpret,
  and religion the why

Is forever too heavy
  to pledge bye and bye

Does the Devil provide balance
  to a concept in stone

Is he laughing inside us,
  mocking all that we know

Is the Lord left to children
   and those purest of heart

Is all truth chained to symbols,
  has its lock come apart

Are the years there to change us,
  is each day meant to count

Are the scriptures worth hearing,
  if belief has to shout

To those fanatics among us,
   yes, you know who you are

A power looms distant,
  beyond testament’s scar

Its claim staked by no one,
  its icon’s unseen

And its reckoning comes
  —when you wake from this dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

“You must earn the right
  to sing the blues

“No high school chorus,
  the hurt you choose”

To wrestle with your demons,
  no safety net in place

Often times it’s zero-sum,
  a blood trail left to trace

You hum those Irish ditties,
  or sing like Junior Wells

When you want those notes to fly,
  you usher them through hell

In the end it may not matter,
  the ending seldom does

What counts is how you stitch that wound
  —its scar now yours to love

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Softly,
  I leave you

Within the falling
   rain

And take my leave,
  the storms reprieve

Its tears,  
—to wash the pain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Nostrils fill with wood smoke,
   a mountain spewing lies

Fifty miles up the trail,
  its legend waves goodbye

Lost Dutchman in my memory,
  the map no longer clear

While buried deep inside the truth
  —its treasure calling dear


(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)

When eternity is mortgaged,
—your soul its true cost

** Chi Minh City: February, 2009

Perfection and honor,
concealed in the words

Shame and disloyalty,
rejected unheard

Deep in a poem,
truth’s finality hides

Inhumanity cursed,
—its verses defy

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

I thought it was the words,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the feelings,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the understanding,
  but it was more than that

And I thought it was the insight,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the lyric,
  but it was more than that

I then thought it was the melody,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the joy they brought,
  but it was more than that

And I thought it was the talk I talked,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the times,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the friendship,
  but it was more than that

I thought it was the love,
  but it was even more than that

And on the day that I stopped
  thinking
    —it was all of that!

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

The signpost a warning
  a resting black swan

Its flight to perdition
  last call from beyond

With roses ungifted,
  their thorns bury deep

Last moon a reminder
  a reckoning steep

The doctor’s watch broken
  your time shorter still

His prognosis a token
  beyond suture or pill

He asks if you’re ready,
  you say that you’re not

You ask if it matters…
  the main lesson untaught

And into the night
  you try once again

To find deeper meaning
  to reach beyond blame

But those last final minutes
  only serve to remind

What the jaded and hoping
   —are never to find

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)

A prisoner of my poetry,
  a captive of this chair

The air I breathe connects me fast,
  this corner now my lair

I take my meals here sitting,
  my sleep in naps between

The written and the spoken word,
—both jailer to this dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Inferable, unknowable,
  all senses on fire

Beyond contradiction,
  sans myriad liars

Its vision unstated,
  true knowledge unfeigned

Born into our souls
  —its silence to reign

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)