Writing the words
I welcome the day
Writing the words
with new things to say
Writing the words
my heart like a sponge
Writing the words
all silence expunged
Every new sound
alive in the air
Every new phrase
unspoken to share
Every last vowel
irreverent of time
Every last breath
gives voice to the mime
Pen in my hand
the journey begins
Pen in my hand
through virtue and sin
Pen in my hand
the Muses surround
Pen in my hand
their voices expound
Dreams of my father
dreams of my son
Dreams hold me captive
dreams rebegun
Dreams in the mirror
dreams that relay
Dreams bringing freedom
dreams — dare I pray
***
Narrative Musings
Poetry
can’t scare me
But then
there’s the prose
Freewheeling
unstructured
I’m lost
in its throes
The words
in my capture
As verse
I sustain
But narrative
musings
I fight
— to proclaim
***
In The Instant
Always the next
poem
always the next
verse
That already
written
retreats
to disperse
What comes
as a presence
stays fresh
to surmise
And freed
in this instant
each word
— more alive
(The New Room: May, 2026)