Is thinking sufficient
to turn us around

Cerebral in nature
as problems surround

For thousands of years
our nose to the stone

We’ve battled our nature
and mostly we drone

The answers elude us
the questions forbear

While sins of our fathers
live on in the air

The harder we toil
the greater we fail

All change in the wishing
— our fortunes entail

(Saint Davids Pennsylvania: September, 2024)

amid perfumed air
suddenly memories flair
I can see her there
eyes met in a love struck stare
enchanted hearts laidbare

When faith is abandoned
we live on old dreams
In time captured wastelands
barren demeaned
Believing the tattler
and spinner of lies
Desperation is sainted
epistles decry

“Music plays in keys of pain
shouting from below
Missals singed in pagan fire
ashes still aglow
Caught out on a bridge alone
burning from both ends
Martyred in our heresy
— darkness to befriend”

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

always catching up
my shadow finally rests
when midday arrives

She slices the ribbon of an old tape cassette,
alone she sits perched on the charred remains.
She breathes in slow motion and recites the alphabet,
alone she sits and embraces the inevitable change.
A delicate flower of truth, love, and regret,
a pulsating fountain severs the deepest vein.
Flowing emotions puddle underneath the bed,
alone she sits, she is always alone.