I had
all the wealth
And I had
all the fame
I had all
the glamour
One life
could contain

I had
all the friends
And I had
all the foes
That now sit
as equals
On the end
of my nose

I had
all these things
But one message
rings true
To have
and to hold
Is but folly
— adieu

(Rhymes From The Nursery: May, 2025)

The Baltimore Catechism,
mornings at eight
Sister Marcella,
don’t ever be late

Its message didactic,
the devil to run
Each question, each answer,
with God zero-sum

Who and what made me,
and why every day
Resistance was futile,
dissent not displayed

An altar boy’s memories,
his sacristy torn
Still missing the process
—where freedom was born

(Saint Thomas of Villanova Chapel: December, 2021)

It’s always been different
and always the same
it’s all been anonymous
and all had a name
It’s had no beginning
and having no end
the truth lost in playing
this game of pretend
The magic in giving,
what’s been taken is lost
the price of the folly
exceeding its cost
And we search the horizon
never leaving the shore
the waves ever constant
now as then—and before

(The New Room: January, 2022)

Poetry has no gender,
it seeks a higher line

Never selling out so cheaply
—as the masses would define

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Can we ever own
anything
that won’t own us back

Can we ever say
anything
we’ll never retract

Can we dream
in the future
while freeing the past

Can we give
without taking
not first ever last

Can the reasons
become us
excuses be ******

Can fidelity
triumph
the truth in demand

When sleep
reawakens
its light shining through

Today and
tomorrow
— forever anew

(The New Room: June, 2024)

Caught at
a crossroad
duality
reigns
Closing
you off
or opening
lanes
That choice
staring back
in the distance
provides
A new
destination
or a place
— you can hide

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)

Death failed to show up for work one day,
the clock remained unpunched

Hospital’s waiting, graveyards on call,
all coroner’s out to lunch

Death took a holiday without checking in,
the pecking order stunned

Like a deer on the highway, all headlights turned off
—awaiting what’s to come

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)

The bark of eternity,
an armoring sure

An oak or a maple,
their majesty pure

Below their dark cover,
time circles in rings

Where destiny spirals
—as residents sing

(Martha Brown’s Woods: March, 2021)

Adrenalin…  
catalyst of fear
and desire

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

There’s a certain type of age
that can’t get old

Death caught within the road signs
of its bartered weakness

Where voices cry a fevered wish
to all who listen

And legends write their epitaphs
—on hearts afire

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)

Of the many cures
—there is no cure

(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)

What’s in a photograph
in reference to time
The events as portrayed
or what they call to mind

Focused on tomorrow,
the picture is lame
Its history frozen
—the future unframed

(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)

Tumbling down the stairs
of misfortune

Slipping on the banana peels
of time

A curtain came down
on his opening act

The Fat Lady singing
—unrhymed

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)

Poetic depiction
prosaic description
Vowels come in colors
the rest black and white

They call to us orphaned
they call to us nameless
Our pens but a lifeline
that save with each write

To romance the serpent
to anger the saint
Each word symptomatic
our feelings acquaint

A bard or a preacher
their weapons the same
Whose caliber loaded
—to praise or defame

(Radnor Pennsylvania: June, 2022)

Forget the past
—and the future is lost

(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)

Bravery and recklessness
riding together

Death as the arbiter
—glory abused

(Crow Agency Montana: July, 2009)

Seeking the right answers
to all the wrong questions
The knife edge resharpens
the danger rehoned

Seeking the right answers
for all the wrong reasons
The rumors refester
—all truth unatoned

(Dreamsleep: December, 2022)

If you use the word languish
I’m stopping my read
When you speak the word nurture
I’m far from intrigued  
If I hear you say milieu
I run for the door
Or when you spout genre
my ears to abhor
They’re chosen to impress
when the meaning is weak
Concealing the emptiness
of all that you speak
‘A labyrinth of dilettantes’
penning your verse
Can’t hide what is missing
— with these words you assert

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Has your life
become an anthem
to those things
that you’ve fled
Did denial
and avoidance
leave you once
in good stead
Can you swear
to the heavens
you had
no other choice
Cowardice
and trepidation
the breath
—in your voice

(The New Room: November, 2023)

Let’s all just be average,
no rich and no poor

Excuses our quotient,
single digits the score

Masquerading as fairness,
our heritage veiled

In lock step we march,
voices mute—nothing hailed

(The New Room: February, 2021)

I do believe in therapy,
but of a certain kind
The type anointed on oneself,
and in yourself to find
A strength to make decisions,
the will to see them through
To best ignore what others say,
while benefiting you
These words are not capricious,
recovery zero-sum
With judgment not to praise or blame
—its cure the only one

(Philadelphia International Airport: December, 2016)

Prescribed philosophy…
medicine of the soul

Brainchild of the gods
—thoughts becoming whole

(Newtown Square Pennsylvania: September, 2020)

One letter that follows,

if added will deem


To separate the real

from what’s referenced or schemed


“Honor from honors,

love from loves


“Truth from truth’s,

and self from selves


“God from gods,

time from times


“Vision from visions,

and life from lives”


The singular, the plural

what is, what is not


One small trailing letter

—true meaning leaves off


(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)

Music first played
on the heartstrings
of God
Whose chorus
of Angels
carries beyond
A melody sacred
each note
comes from He
Whose flute calls
us closer
Whose harp
— sets us free

(1st Book Of Prayers: July, 2025)

Hiding their poison,
colleges feign

Promising sunshine,
delivering rain

Knowledge infected,
politics vile

Lambs to the slaughter
—Athena defiled

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)

Leaving behind excuses,
the reasons close at hand

No longer distracted by the ism’s of truth,
or what protocol demands

Living outside the fences,
no longer looking in

The horizon waiting as my dreams set sail
—safe harbor there within

(Bryn Mawr College: February, 2020)

Diminished
but ennobled,
the soldier came home
his two limbs
traded for the
sanctuary
of a deeper peace

Broken
in completeness,
his braces held proud
each battle
medaled
in the memory
—of his finest hour

(The New Room: November, 2021)

Seeing truth...
in the blindness of others

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)

The temperature frozen
Old sticks in the mud
New tracks are untrodden
Lost dreams from above
The raisins in darkness
All pits buried deep
The moon shines unfaithful
Recounting of sheep
The doctors 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
He asks if it matters
You ask if it ought
And into the night
You begin once again
To hurry the ending
To reach beyond blame
And all of the hate
You then leave behind
To warn all those jaded
Of what they’re never to find
"Partisan dreamer
Audience of one
Killer of grammar
Words on the run
Paragraph’s jilted
The undotted ‘I’
The meaning now freed
All language denied
Rhythm of opportunity
Children of hope
Seizing the moment
Not dropping the soap
Stretching the limits
Crossing the line
To beat a new cadence
Time begs to shine"
You want it to make sense
You want it to seem clear
As your feigned self importance
No longer precious or dear
But the only one caring
And that still in doubt
A mirrored reflection
Of what time has cast out
You head off to work
Your laser untagged
The morning unvetted
Coworkers who brag
The lunch break upon you
Again eating alone
The steak is served raw
Chewed right to the bone
The banter around you
Seems damning at best
The shroud that surrounds you
To defile or to bless
“You gain nothing by trying”
You gain nothing you say
As you then begin crying
For that one gone away
That girl in the tall grass
That girl in your arms
Went to be with another
When you bartered your charms
Her daughter is grown now
Some say looks like you
Could it be then you wonder
When the times were so few
You pay the cashier
As you walk slowly out
This bill had been dear
More than you had allowed
With the bone in your pocket
You head back to your desk
As the cry of a mockingbird
Decries and behests
Your pen running dry
As your mind starts to write
On your third eye a sty
Melding vision with sight
And its then that you notice
Hanging pink and in front
And you know that your future’s
A dog that can’t hunt
So you walk to his office
And sit down in the chair
You look at him soulless
And try not to care
He explains “That he’s sorry”
That “The timing’s not right”
He says that you’re valued
But be gone by tonight
As you clean out your desk
A new feeling partakes
You look up to the ceiling
Lost in all that’s at stake
And that feeling is good now
That feeling seems right
As the feeling then pushes
As the feeling alights
You decide now emboldened
To stop on the way home
At the house of that one
You left forever alone
You heard of divorce
You wonder how bad
The damage it left her
Was it worse than you had
As you slow down your car
She stands in the yard
As you speed up your heart
She says “Directions, how far”
She does not recognize you
Have you changed all that much
She looks at you puzzled
As you long for her touch
And you drive away empty
As you drive away cold
And you drive away blackened
From your heart to your soul
But your path is now clear
You’ve just one place to go
As those things that you feared
Have now falsely been shown
And you walk in her kitchen
The door never had locked
Standing there and still smitten
The one you thought had forgot
“Was that you in the car earlier
Was that you, really you
I couldn’t believe it
Because I still love you, I do”
A reward wrapped in burlap
The priciest kind
Where if never rejected
You are never to find
So make just one promise
To then promise again
To be true to your feelings
From beginning to end
"Sages and broomsticks
motherless pearls
Witches who threaten
fatherless girls
New curse of the ages
old grudges remain
A coven of stages
to hide from the rain
And the mark then of Satan
the touch of the Lord
To the death plated sunset
and the winner forlorn"
The trap in this quandry
which you must break out
As with all ***** laundry
to first burn and then shout
As the truth is not distant
a true word never feigned
And the peace that you’re seeking
still inside and unclaimed
So let go of the dogma
and the medals will melt
Your deck full of aces
all cards are redealt
But the moment is now
and the moment is clear
Once the moment is chosen
new joy spun from fear
So to those who will threaten
with eternity ******
Say “Away with your blasphemy
stop where you stand”
Your wings have resprouted
your eyes looking in
A new life has been started
—you’re blessed to begin

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Light
bids me welcome
darkness retreats
Alas
poor death
thou must be alone
His gate
reopens
before yours has locked
The harp
of an Angel
— calling me home

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: August, 2023)

Many nights there were no new dreams,
so I borrowed from the old

Resurrecting the scaffolding
of what lay unbuilt—untold

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)