My thoughts are my weapons,
my pen is my sword

My will is my whetstone,
my knighthood,
—my Lord

(Opening Poem to Novel 'Darkening Sun:' December, 2014)

America has been hi-jacked
By the mainstream media
Reality distorted
  —and the truth scorned

Soundbites of political daggers
Impale a Constitution left wounded
Patriots held hostage
  —as Lady Liberty mourns

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2015)

Words…
  the great currency
  inside my literary account

Inspiration,
  the letters of credit
   —freeing me to spend

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

Disappear into your smart phone
  the world outside is doomed

Your few remaining human traits
  have long since left the room

Disappear into your smart phone
  all life beyond is lost

Your feelings truly virtual
  you’ve paid a mighty cost

Disappear into your smart phone
  while others stand beside

And just like you they tap their screens
  faint proof that they’re alive

Disappear into your smart phone
   as time is winding down

All spirit tapped, emotion strapped
  your history lost, unfound

Disappear into your smart phone
   that bed you’ve left unmade

Your spirit cries as memory dies
  whose LaLa land you crave

Disappear into your smart phone
  its power now supreme

Your knowledge mapped and future trapped
  —your destiny undreamed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)

Time not only seems to be speeding up…
  it actually is

Perception trumping reality looking forward,
  not looking back

Undercooked moments blow into the future,
  their aroma unsettling

As tomorrow disowns today
   —lamenting the past

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)

Waiting to die,
  he took one last card

Waiting to die,
  the dealer stared hard

Waiting to die,
  his wager was late

Waiting to die,
  which Joker abates

Waiting to die,
  the odds become clear

Waiting to die,
  last gamble with fear

Waiting to die,
  fate out of the deck

Waiting to die,
—his soul his last bet

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)

The light in the window,
  the candle in the hall

The torch in the jungle
  all beacons that call

That voice in the distance,
  the one just next door

The whisper screams loudest,
  when heard from afar

That flame that once beckoned,
  the one that still shines

Those rays reconnected,
  new vision sublime

To see it and hear it,
  to know it once more

One spark yet to strike,
—last blaze still to roar

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

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 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)

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)

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)