What is a man, what is a woman…

solved by the stroke of a pen

 

The genders now mix, the game has been fixed

 —playing fields only pretend

 

(The New Room: January, 2021)

 

I’m actually tired of being myself…

can I be you for awhile

 

I hide from the mirror and monogrammed lies,

as I run from an image defiled

 

I thought I was safe and had made my escape,

when memory reminded again

 

“You can run, you can hide, your indenture unkeyed

—the chains locked secure in your head”

 

(The New Room: January, 2021)

The dead never get to say goodbye,

as they charge across the line

Finality left to those who live,

still victimized by time

 

The dead never get to say hello,

a bust that’s now recast

Their sacrifice a milepost

—beyond the futurepast

 

(Valley Forge: January, 2021)

 

What purpose Poetry,

if not to transcend

 

The mundane, the broken,

those roads with no end

 

With every feeling

new words are reborn

 

To speak to Creation

—and live readorned

 

(The New Room: January, 2021)

Where do you go

when your war has been won

 

The enemy vanquished,

the legion’s undone

 

What do you do

when your purpose is gone

 

The feelings still burning,

the will to fight strong

 

Where do you go,

the last battle adjourned

 

The fields lined in blood,

all caissons returned

 

As men march in unison,

their rifles unbreeched

 

A lone bugle calling

—the dead beyond reach

 

(The New Room: January, 2021)

 

The Pharisees vengeance,

unleashing again

 

To kill a ‘false’ prophet,

their fear redescends

 

The cross is made ready,

like ages before

 

The nails though still rusty,

hammer deep and secure

 

Their memories short sighted,

rejecting the fact

 

The last one they crucified…

 alive and intact

 

A new Resurrection

they’re about to ensure

 

Through hatred and envy

—damnation procured

 

(For Sister Marcella: January, 2021)

 

The pinnacle of abuse

 is preying on your own

Jackal, politician,

mercenary, or priest

Their cloak of deception

 hiding unspoken lies

Approaching your doorstep

—in the guise of a friend

 

(The New Room: January, 2021)

 

 

We serve the moment,

bespeaks the Lord

 

To live eternal

—in time untoward

 

(The Book Of Prayers: January, 2021)

While safe in my corner,

so sure of myself

 

I criticized everything,

what’s thought and what’s felt

 

Secure in the fantasy,

my back to the wall

 

Returns to diminish

—the big to the small

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)

I gave my heart to someone in the rain,

the clouds exploding, witness to my vows

 

The water carrying away each fervent wish

—to stream in happy aqueducts of love

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)