The Drought

Abbots of darkness

bishops of pain

Cloistered in dogma

praying for rain

 

Thunderous chanting

 tempest above 

Damning false prophets

 blessing a dove

 

Grace comes a hailstorm

Coventry’s shame

Lost in its downpour

thirst to remain

 

Warning blasphemers

in skies that portend

Ordained and self-serving

 the drought never ends

 

(The New Room: September, 2023)

Salvation Divine

This poem I read

at the end of my life…

 

As I bid you adieu

from the joy and the strife

 

A verse filled with hope

and with love from within

 

To carry inside you

my song on the wind

 

I’ll try not to preach

as others have done

 

But rather beseech you

your songs yet unsung

 

To love with the strength

that’s God given inside

 

And to love even more

in an unending rhyme

 

These words are my gift

I bequeath you today

 

In the hope you’ll remember

what I last had to say

 

For I loved you all deeply

your kindness I sought

 

And remember now sweetly

those blessings you brought

 

So I leave you this morning

and bid you farewell

 

I leave you together

pledged hearts here to dwell

 

All strength in your sharing

my love to remind

 

Your redemption awaits

—salvation divine

 

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: September, 2016)

Uno Mas

Life’s about distance

and lack of control

A search for redemption

someone to console

Closer than farther

then farther again

A distant horizon

new history to fend

Excuses are many

the reasons but few

Voices heard calling

though old were once new

A spirit still willing

a body that’s weak

My pathway desponding

—once more do I seek

 

(The New Room: September, 2023)

1967

Swallowing

lightning

Teasing

the bear

Dharmic

illusions

Circling

a square

 

Trapping

a rainbow

Embracing

the clowns

Rewriting

language

Up

getting down

 

Stripping

the moment

Wishes

that fly

Summer

of love

Timeless

 goodbyes

 

Alice

returning

Virtuous

sin

Lost

in the rhythms

Buried

—within

 

 

(The New Room: September, 2023)

Jester In Transit

Bending a breaking point

rupturing time

Eons of history

skirting the line

 

Paradox native

our true D.N.A.

Truth as a concept

forever in play

 

Yessing and noing   

transfixed in between

The jester in transit

all canons demeaned

 

Freeing the moment

 the first wedded last

a twist to the turning

—where memory contrasts

 

(Septa R5 To 30th Street: August, 2023)