New Paradigms
Approaching
the limits
of human
performance
The body
conscripted
with flesh
as the martyr
New ‘paradigms’
looming
bionics
invade
The mind
a dark trainer
whose death sentence
— willed
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Illumination
All living
things
gravitate
toward light
Where painters
and poets
bask
in delight
Illumined
in freedom
the darkness
confined
To others
not searching
by shadows
— defined
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Until Trapped
In spaces confined
people begin to withdraw
deeply
inside themselves
In elevators
and crowded halls
their psyche constricts
their image quelled
As victims of space
their mood takes on
the confines of
their station
Where smaller and smaller
they become
trapped
— in isolation
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Feelings Beckon
I lost
my mind
and found
my heart
Perception
orphaned
the music
starts
All thoughts
abandoned
conceptual
ire
As feelings
beckon
with joy
— on fire
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Trapped In Wonder
More a
question
than it is
an answer
Life
when uncertain
its magic
— flowers
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Light To Dark
Virtues
become crimes
— by exaggeration
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Crossing Over
“What in truth
great terror be death
one last step
awaiting unblessed
Forever as silence
behests
crossing over
— eternity rests”
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Stigmata
Moral wounds
may be hidden
— but they never close
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Deep Within
Always charging
never quelled
Deep within
— the heart foretells
(The New Room: February, 2026)
The ‘Player’
To get her
to at least
give him her number
he told her …
“You Have Dakota Fannings Eyes”
Finally
she said back
what surprised
him to hear …
‘You’re the kind of man I’ve Always Despised’
Her number
unwritten
and intent
more than clear
‘Again He Beseeched And Contrived’
And never
redundant
she looked
at him plain
‘With The Fury Of Hate In Her Eyes’
(The New Room: February, 2026)
Against The Wind
What looked like a win
was a major league loss
I tried to escape
but delusion the cost
Rebelling against them
I thought I was free
But using old tactics
their hold still on me
From first day to last
in darkness and light
Their voices unsilenced
their grip ever tight
Despite my best efforts
heredity sways
Our schism a fantasy
— that hovers and preys
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
An Anthology Of Perception 