Destiny Marked

The wandering Poet,

so wild—so free

 

With each mile walked,

a new reverie

 

Eight Muses to guide him,

his steps fall in line

 

Their prophecy calling,

their message sublime

 

The wandering Poet

won’t stop till he’s done

 

All motion incessant,

all verse zero-sum

 

His trail can be seen

by those willing to climb

 

Their destiny’s marked

—their pasts left behind

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

 

GOODBYE

I said no to the man

and made my own bed

 

I cut my own trail

with eyes straight ahead

 

In debt to myself

but thankful to all

 

My words freely spoken,

their verdict my call

 

I beat my own rhythm

on multiple drums

 

I structured the lyrics

to sing and to hum

 

The nighttime began

what the morning forgave

 

A living refusal,

my back to the grave

 

The years have renewed,

all memories collide

 

The young and the old,

the truth and the lies

 

A comet yet burning,

new verse in the sky

 

One word still an orphan,

and homeless

—GOODBYE

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)