This poem I read
  at the end of my life…

As I bid you adieu
  from the joy and the strife

A verse filled with hope,
  and with love from within

To carry inside you,
  my song on the wind
  
I’ll try not to preach,
  as others have done

But rather beseech you,
  your songs yet unsung

To love with the strength
  that’s God given inside

And to love even more,
  in an unending rhyme

These words are my gift,
  I bequeath you today

In the hope you’ll remember
  what I last had to say

For I loved you all deeply,
  your kindness I sought

And remember now sweetly,
  those blessings you brought

So I leave you this morning,
  and bid you farewell

I leave you together,
  pledged hearts here to dwell

All strength in your sharing,
  my love to remind
  
Your redemption awaits
  —its salvation divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

This poem I read
at the end of my life…

As I bid you adieu
from the joy and the strife

A verse filled with hope
and with love from within

To carry inside you
my song on the wind

I’ll try not to preach
as others have done

But rather beseech you
your songs yet unsung

To love with the strength
that’s God given inside

And to love even more
in an unending rhyme

These words are my gift
I bequeath you today

In the hope you’ll remember
what I last had to say

For I loved you all deeply
your kindness I sought

And remember now sweetly
those blessings you brought

So I leave you this morning
and bid you farewell

I leave you together
pledged hearts here to dwell

All strength in your sharing
my love to remind

Your redemption awaits
—salvation divine

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: September, 2016)

A shadow hides behind your smile
in the Riviera sun
Parisian moments long ago
our love had just begun

A child born then lost to time
whose laughter still we hear
As life took back its greatest gift
—his memory to endear

(Mayenne France: April, 1978)

Judging opinions
by their age
proscriptions
lie in wait

Consensus stained
with fear and guilt
folly
overstates

Knowledge of others
unknown to self
deception points
one way

Value weighed
in layers of dust
the truth held
—far at bay

(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)

She never kissed you
till she hated you

Her feelings deadly
—her motives dark

(Aldwyn: March, 2021)

Are you digging a hole
you will never crawl out of,
a prison self-made by your hand
The metaphors mix
as you lie there betwixt
—the bars sinking into the sand

(Dreamsleep: April, 2021)

Without
the conception inception
connection
Life
is a desert
—of lost possibility

(The New Room: March, 2023)

A bevy of censures,
to hit and strike back

Each written reprisal
to ward off attack

A mother-son warning,
once truant come true

Her words now my weapons
—to **** and renew

(Beaupre: February, 2021)

I dress up every Sunday,
but only in my mind
My coat and tie in tattered shreds,
the past and future bind

To celebrate in peasant rags,
as memory dances free
Imagining in formal garb
—what only I can see

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)

Route 66

The death of the road
— the birth of a dream

(The New Room: April, 2025)


Live More

If you’re light
on experience
your writing will suffer

Like clay
to the sculptor
— or drummer to the band

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

In addition to the slogans...
"Save The Whales,"  
"Save A Tree,"
and
"Save The Oceans"

We need a new one...
    "Save A Poet"

(University Of Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

Silence is charmed
disaster avoided
New breath to infuse
fresh words on the run

Tomorrow disarmed
the instant unleashing
Each moment a present
—time gifted becomes

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)

A Poet dies
and
the world lives
to mourn
Rereading his
words
a new spirit
is born

In paradigms
searching
for hope and
reprieve
His memory
calls out
to those
— who believe

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

Nothing cuts as deep
as a back that’s turned

Denying your existence
—all bridges burned

(The New Room: October, 2022)

What are we but relics
of time gone by

Where painful encounters
stay undenied

The wounds may scar over
but never heal

As memory is martyred
its blood congealed

New skin tries to cover
what sutures can’t hide

Each moment recovered
a falsehood decried

With strength built on pillars
of fortunes disdain

From deep in the shadows
—our essence remains

(Dreamsleep: January, 2023)

Good girls ask permission
bad girls seek forgiveness
Sins two faced till time erased
—sisters of injustice

(Dreamsleep: August, 2022)

Cultures dissected …
structured refusal
Cloistered eruptions
dearth to accept
  
Rising triumphant
they steal from each other
Defining their existence
—by what they reject


(Septa R5: September, 2023)

In most things a fledgling
to some degree
A novice at love
and what’s not to be
Indentured forever
beyond my leave
And only an expert
—at being me

(The New Room: June, 2021)

Seventeen children
on a highway to hell

Thumbs out—noses down,
perdition rings their bell

Seventeen children,
their backs now fully turned

The piper calls them blindly
—their futures scorched and burned

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

They don’t **** politicians anymore
though some might say they should
Those vermin breeding malcontents
all worms in rotten wood

To feast on dreams of hope and change
and sell what pain has bought
They **** our souls in daylight scorned
—no punishment when caught

(The New Room: July, 2022)

Writing …
first last
and always  
—its own reward

(Dreamsleep: October, 2023)

Free verse…
  a forest without a path
    —a direction without an end

(St. Davids Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

As a Poet I’ve been everywhere,
  while living in the void

As a Poet I’ve written about time,
  while living outside its deception

As a Poet I’ve watched your hopes and dreams,
fade into dark memory

As a Poet I’ve searched and waited
—for what tomorrow never brings

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

Remembering to forget,
the road opened in front of me

Remembering to forget,
the past drifted away

Remembering to forget,
my today my tomorrow

Remembering to forget
—my tomorrow today

(Devil’s Tower Wyoming: September, 1990)

And no summer came…
calendar frozen, cold winds still in play

And no summer came…
the birds and butterflies staying away

And no summer came…
expressions of love buried in the frost

And no summer came…
seasons to mourn every day that we’ve lost

(Dreamsleep: May, 2020)

This word or that word,
the length of the line

The meter, the rhythm,
to rhyme or not rhyme

Each voice comes unsettled,
new phrases diverse

Is it this way or that way
—when penning the verse

(The New Room: December, 2021)

You strive for complexity,
missing the truth

Your thoughts trumping feeling
—ego seduced

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Bury a prophecy
— resurrection assured

(The New Room: April, 2025)

Cotton is picked
before cloth is made
Footings poured
to support the stage

Laws enacted
before crimes take place
Love embracing
— for hearts to break

(Septa Train 30th Street: April, 2024)

Give up your torment,  
take back your verse
tomorrow upon you
for better or worse

Take up your wishes,
give in to dreams
sleep in denial,
old memories scream

Free up the moment,
strike out the past
damning the future,
its promise unmasked

Strike up the silence,
freeing new words
seizing the instant
—forever unheard

(The New Room: May, 2022)