Not what’s written…

but what’s seen

and felt

—then heard

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

On the back side of deliverance,

our paths fated to cross

 

Your road going toward the light,

my direction all but lost

 

You stopped and turned toward me,

looking deeply in my eyes

 

Pity mixed with latent fear

—my fate so redefined

 

(Septa R5: February, 2020)

Designated driver,

your road to end at last

 

The choice was yours, mistake inured,

your future now your past

 

Designated driver,

those high beams in your eyes

 

A haunting name, the lasting blame

—that night your dreams reprise

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

 

My ego lost virginity,

upon the critics throne

 

Pregnant with doubt ectopic,

its embryo disowned

 

With labored forced delivery,

and fetus left unsired 

 

 A chastised unwed mother

—giving birth to words bemired

 

(Ronald McDonald House: February, 2020)

True poets are poets

before picking up a pen

 

True poets are poets

before opening their mouths

 

True poets are poets

before their words are enshrined

 

True poets are poets

before…

 

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)

 

To doubt what you doubt,

but know what you know

 

The difference inherent,

its fire aglow

 

To wish what you wish for,

but feel what you feel

 

Knowing and feeling

—those things that are real

 

(Villanova University: February, 2020)

Leaving behind excuses,

the reasons close at hand

 

No longer distracted by the ism’s of truth,

or what protocol demands

 

Living outside the fences,

no longer looking in

 

The horizon waiting as my dreams set sail

—safe harbor there within

 

(Bryn Mawr College: February, 2020)