Are you now denied all access
Has your ticket long been punched
Is your fear stuck in the alley
Intermezzo—out to lunch

Will you even see the picture
From the far end of the line
Would a curtain serve to raise your hopes
Can a loser ever shine

The doorman calls “It’s Showtime”
As the lights all start to dim
An usher cries “There’s One Seat Left”
You madly rush within

With eyes now strained in darkness
You find that one last chair
And on the stage, hope kisses fear,
—all encores yours to share

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Dying in anticipation,
  the morning never came

Rising out of sublimation
—the end begins again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

If you’re losing you’re winning,
  the path leads one way

The steps to the kingdom,
  a carpet of pain

If your will is unbroken,
  your commitment in stone

The ending assured
—as you sit on the throne

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

Do you avoid the give and take,
  are you afraid to cut the cake

With hope now gone, one wish is left,
  the present strong—all else bereft

Are you afraid of yes and no,
  to middle ground do you still go

The mountaintop calls out your name,
  excuses haunt your stock and trade

With time undone and glass half poured,
  your cup still empties, false reward

The end in sight, horizon plain,
  one last choice calls—your soul to gain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

Get caught in the dialectic
  before the day is late

Don’t wait for an invitation
  as they slowly shut the gate

The wolf now dressed in spun wool
  has broken from his cage

He hungers more for what we’ve lost
  an ignorance of rage

A traitor lurks in front of us
  to vanquish and to quell

But time that stops for no one man
  the assassin pledged to hell

The moment to act upon us
  the odds both long and wide

A battle still worth fighting
    for those before who thought and died

So if truth’s your greatest weapon
  wield it willingly and free

The enemy is upon us
  —and must leave on bended knee

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

If there’s anything more dangerous
  than a terrorist
   —it’s a corrupt politician

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Grandchildren
—life’s fountain of youth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2018)

Do you eat your own cooking,
  do you live what you write

Do you enjoy your own company,
  do you dream well at night

When you look in the mirror,
  do you like what you see

Through the eyes of a child,
—is your heart then set free

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

I happen to be cast a
  different way

Molten like igneous
  stone

I live on the boundary,
  where others won’t play

At the edge of the scary
  unknown

The chess board on fire,
  as the Russian sage smiles

With the questions the same,
  only more

All answers now servant,
  as I step off the ledge

The fall better this time,
—than before

(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)

We’ve redefined God
Into someone
Who fits
His image
Our vision
His vision
Inconvenient
Alongside things
That won’t let go
His message untimely
With bills to pay
And concrete goddesses
To which we pray
  “a tail never tried to wag
   a bigger dog”
As we chant inside the
False rapture
Of our own
Becoming
Hiding from the very
Light
That promises
—to show us the way

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

A prisoner of the truth
  sole inmate of denial

Serving time falsely promised
  —paroled in cold exile

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)

Thoughts carried to term,
  new words to instill

A message is born,
  an infant of will

Its father coarse logic,
  its mother the wind

Together they coupled,
  a marriage within

Their family heraldic,
  with pedigree firm

As libraries tremble,
  and sages relearn

All time on the table,
  last lie from the beast

This moment a knife,
  past—future the feast

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)

Can memory destroy vision,
  if the tables turn

Can time surpass insight,
  as its distance churns

Can faith supplant reason,
  from its place on high

Can love be the fifth season,
—and our final goodbye

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

Those drunken nights and barroom fights
  now seed my fallowed ground

Where women spurned and lovers churned
  rule memory’s lost and found

Those wasted days and sleepless years
  like wine have aged within

Fermenting each unwritten page
  —reharvesting my sins

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)

If doing what’s right and winning
  could only be the same

Our world would strike the final match
—all politics in flames

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)

Can joy be found in everything,
  and not in just one place

Can love be used to clear the field,
  and watch the children race

Can hearts be free when joined as one,
  where parted they were not

Can passion reach that deepest void,
—to stoke the fire hot

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

You hide behind
  the angels mask

As truth unsheathes
  its sword

Your costume stripped,
  the devil unleashed

His fire,
  —your fate to endure

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

"A man’s true spirit can only be forged and replenished
    —in the fire of the unknown."

(Last Line Of Chapter 18 In My Novel ‘Revenge Along The War Trail) …. Published Sept 1, 2016

My eyes explode,
  within the beauty of your image

My ears implode,
  within the magic of your words

My mind expands,
  within the thought of you inside me

My heart ignites,
—within the fire of your love

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Can you understand  
  beyond thinking

Can you know more than
  your mind can learn

Can you overflow
  without leaking

Can you warm beyond
  the fires burn

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Celestial things massacre time  
  with their importance

Like Carlos Santana playing
  ‘Black Magic Woman’

Earthly things embody the moment
within their transformation

The caterpillar—the butterfly,
  the wood before the fires glow

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

There are types of young love
  that must be broken apart

For either or both lovers
  to survive

Like alcohol to the inferno
  their temperature gets hotter

Until nothing is left to share
  except scorched remains

With no net to catch them
  they fall into each other

Tumbling and hurling
  like a flaming ball

A hunger unsated
  devouring their passion

Their souls trapped and burning
   —in the fire they share

(Westborough Massachusetts: April, 2018)

Do you change the meaning
  in favor of form

Do you add a new comma
  because it’s the norm

Do you shorten the sentence
  because it’s advised

Do you scour the pages
  re-dotting your I’s

Do you read and reread
  again to address

What sure of at first
  and now want to correct

A wise man once said
  and it’s truer today

“The First Cut Is The Deepest”
   —leave your words as they lay

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)