Tracks

I am lost
because I placed my feet
in the beaten muddy steps
leading me deeper
ever deeper
into the woods

I am lost
because in the forest
the imprints of my
predecessor
melted & were meaningless

lured
with silver breadcrumbs
I have gone far
too far
to return
to truth

The Stones Of Cedar Hill

I love cemeteries
When I was a child, I played in one
Because we did not have a park.
The stones of Cedar Hill became my primers
Of God, and history and art.
When I was seventeen,
Monica and I went all the way
To eternity
Behind the weathered stone of
General ‘Biff’ Harris, (retired);
We warmed the General’s cold, damp bones
That night
And there was Mary,
Who said it was a sin of desecration
To love on hallowed ground
But it was May,
The earth was warm,
And Mary was gold and fragrant
Like the afternoon.
When evening fell,
Mary loved Cedar Hill
and I loved Mary.

Then I wed,
And took my child
To play among the dead
Because we did not have a park,
And how we loved to run free,
Learning as I did,
About life through death.
Once he asked,
“Daddy, will they ever return?”
And wanting his belief in God,
I said, “I think so, son.”
He smiled satisfied and said, “Good!”
And off he ran with Mister Woof.
The wind arose chilling me
As I watched them go,
And I fancied hearing many voices
Wailing by in chorus,
No No No No No No No No No Nooooooo!
We have been betrayed… betrayed… betrayed…
Was it Cedar Hill’s reply to my son,
Or was it only the wind?
I’ll never know.

We don’t visit cemeteries anymore:
There is too much truth in those mounds and stones.
Now we have a park
Where children laugh and play,
And couples walk, holding hands,
And old men with silver hair
Sleep and play cards,
With fountains splashing,
And men in white sell ice cream
And gayly colored balloons,
But parks are somewhat wanting,
And when winds whisp by on breezy days
I think of truth as still
Reposing always with my son,
Among the stones of Cedar Hill.

Second Street Socrates

Pop Billings had no legs,
But it caused him no concern
For people bought his papers
Finding wisdom they could learn.

A pause would get you news and views,
City Hall, a railroad strike,
Bets, Jets, Mets, the lottery,
And happenings in town at night.

Pop Billings had no legs
— just a smile, a mind, and time,
Which kept his corner busy
Changing lives for only a dime

E.J. Hudak ca. 1969

The jaws sing

As the drip, drip, drip,

Of the petroleum chorus

Dances across

The inverted aluminum

And the hissing starts

And the hissing stays

Its smell a warning

A final omen

Like the last rose

Of summer

Or the fragrance she wore

For that final goodbye

The teeth tear inward

Like the regret for today

And the regret for yesterday

And the lament for tomorrow

Its promise broken

And your khakis red

And baptized

A stigmata

To self-infliction

As the music plays constant

And the rushing you feel

An emptying of sorrow

Onto the crushed ceiling

Of a dream in reverse

Of all life in reverse

Until two arms grab you

And you fall from the sky

And you fall from the sky

Waiting

For the ground

To coronate the outcome

And for one more answer

To a ‘why’ unquestioned

And to love you one more time

But the lights are now dim

And the voices muffled

As an organ can be heard

And storebought flowers smelled

And an old woman cries …

As a young woman cries …

And a stranger pronounces

What you feared the most

They didn’t know you

And couldn’t know you

The exit sign flashing

But there is no door

“There is no door”

—and then the music stops

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

 

Lost Indemnity

 

Death

closes the door

Life

can no longer hold open

Nothing

left to walk through

Ahead

— or behind

 

***

 

“United We Stand”

 

Liberty

holds the promise

As freedom

drives it home

Two words combine

what each defines

But weaker

— said alone

 

***

 

A Coming Dawn

 

The virgin beauty

of anticipation

Unspoiled in the wonder

— of what’s yet to become

 

***

 

Stay Away

 

Never enter an arena

where life is valued cheaply

The cost too extreme

— to win is to lose

 

***

 

Building Blocks

 

The lower you go

on the knowledge scale

— the more important it is

 

***

 

Perpetually Apropos

 

The best time for peace

— its moment is now

 

***

 

Straight Emes

 

Truth rises

through every denial

Reforming the doubt

— rebirthing the child

 

***

 

Lip Service

 

A great man is murdered

and we pass a

congressional resolution

Too little too late

to escape the mire of pandering

— failure and loss

 

***

 

First Things First

 

To do it right

 — someone must do it wrong

 

***

 

Tag — You’re Out

 

Playing hide and seek

with my shadow

I stepped into

the light

Playing hide and seek

with myself

I succumbed

— to the dark

 

(Dreamsleep: May, 2026)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Empty Road Signs

 

Time takes on

a dimension

only time can understand

 

It’s a long long way

from being lost

to anywhere

 

The present stays

uncharted

like the fulcrum of a dream

 

Tomorrow

an empty road sign

— its message to portend

 

***

 

Turning The Latch

 

Is anything more prescient

than a window

open wide

Awaiting sun

or moonlight

and the wind that blows outside

Its latch when turned

inviting

unlocked it puts in play

The ingress

and the egress

— of every passing day

 

***

 

We All Share

 

There’s a comfort

in dying

that death can’t provide

 

Assured

of an ending

where conflict subsides

 

We all share

in common

the end of the road

 

Where time

has no meaning

— pain left to implode

 

(Dreamsleep: May, 2026)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Surrender

stoops in darkness

Defeat

its noble kin

Valor weeps

on bended knee

Honor lost

— when blood runs thin

 

***

 

The Pen

 

Words attack

the armor

of every

given age

 

To right the wrongs

all shields prolong

their pen attacks

— with rage

 

***

 

Leaving Old Choices

 

Tunneling out

of mortality

Inching my way

toward the light

Leaving old choices

of dire repute

Trading ill fortune

— for heaven’s delight

 

(The First Book Of Prayers: May, 2026)

 

 

Last Chance

 

In between the shadows

of forgotten yesterdays

Light’s glimmer calling out to me

on bended knee I pray

 

— Two angels appear before me —

their arms are open wide

A glimpse of all eternity

— alive within their eyes —

 

Last chance to heed the Caller

last memory to ordain

Last chance to heed the Caller

— my destiny proclaimed

 

***

 

Your Servant

 

If I was granted one star

from the heavens

To illumine the very blackest

of days

 

In debt to the universe

but free of the dark

A servant I’d kneel

—  celestial to pray

 

***

 

Lettered In Sound

 

Creating new music

inside of each word

Harmonic inscription

— to read and be heard

 

***

 

What Imagery Proffers

 

The deception of reality

lost in plain sight

What the eye often swears to

a mirage will requite

 

Sentience teases

with each sound and each smell

What imagery proffers

— and vision compels

 

(The New Room: May, 2026)