Behind the walls
of his fantasy
an actor played his role
dishonest in death
dishonest in life
face like ashen coal
Taking the stage
left, center, and right
soliloquy to fawn
each pleading rehearsed
all truth in reverse
—footlights dark and gone
(Dreamsleep: Octopber, 2021)
Born fully human,
more fully Divine
Our Savior upon us,
existence sublime
The sum of three persons,
all persons as one
His love in the mystery
sent down from above
A choice beyond question,
its truth beyond fact
All faith in transcendence
—unsetting the trap
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
My poetry selfish,
a teacher I’m not,
my message once for saying
Instruction a tool
long missing and gone,
imagery not relaying
The ivory tower
a dungeon to me
where freedom goes to die
The wind in the willows,
a hawk on the wing
—my verse to course and fly
(The New Room: October, 2021)
A jazz musician
wonders back
to his days at the keyboard…
each note over practiced
until melody pure
and magic releases
A poet in laurels
wonders back
to his primers and notepads…
each word placed in order
until imagery calls
—and syntax digresses
(Villanova University: October, 2021)
Eenie, Meenie, Miny, Mo,
drums beat loud, a finger shows
Tigers prowl within our reach
—on tippytoes our fate impeached
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
Charted lanes of custom,
complacency alights
familiarity trumping all
—mindless in the night
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
How looks my love at dawn
in Spring
the air a festive vase
of hope
to lord each sprout of truth
with praise
and sing what only birds
announce
Her steps become a
garden path
her breath a fragrance
o’er the hills
to dance with future,
present, past
and spin each partner
—time undone
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
Lingering…
the shadow of his wings
a constant reminder
that love is a covering
to strip and lay bare
like that final March snow
hiding daffodils within
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
No ordered enchantment,
no purpose in luck
No dreams in forgetting,
no lover mistook
A bells rings in silence
when ears have gone dry
A bat’s in the chimney
when fire’s denied
All hail to the wonder,
all hail to the chiefs
All hail to the proctor,
all hail disbelief
Indentured we mingle,
inclement we fall
Inspired we stumble
—in spite of it all
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
Writing is a messy feast
where crumbs fall to the floor
to congregate and aggregate
to hide and form and spore
Left alone and thrown away
these remnants take new life
invading what you fear the most
on dark and stormy nights
They creep inside your cleanest lines
to weaken and distract
what memory long has cast aside
now rising from the cracks
And latching on while holding tight
they make you speak their name
those orphaned crumbs your table cleared
—in sweeping lost disdain
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
An Anthology Of Perception 