Philosophy is not
an act of discovery,
but
an act of creation
the difference sublime
Poetic verse is not
conscripted but inspired,
whose
direction cries inward
—its essence Divine
(The New Room: February, 2021)
Philosophy is not
an act of discovery,
but
an act of creation
the difference sublime
Poetic verse is not
conscripted but inspired,
whose
direction cries inward
—its essence Divine
(The New Room: February, 2021)
A tempest swept in,
transporting my thoughts
The past to the future,
and back to today
Recapturing memories,
beginning again
Untimed reminiscence
—the present relayed
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Any proof for God is
oxymoronic
God needs no testament,
only man
Not to be indicted,
not to be confirmed
Beyond all dialectic
—God is
(Bethlehem Pennsylvania: February, 2021)
I write for the diamonds,
all quartz to be damned
The populace deafened,
and jaded demand
That anything selfish,
their wills to be pawned
My jewels though not many
—sparkle beyond
(The New Room: February, 2021)
Identity
is derivative
of distance
endowed
Space
the Grand Sultan,
its winds
to uncloud
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Is identity a reference
to all that I’m not
or something else again
Is what I’m becoming
and what I am
in contrast clearly plain
Or then is it more
and crossing over
to what I’ve not yet been
The border amorphous
where gravity pulls
—to dance beyond the rim
(Rosemont Pennsylvania: February, 2021)
Truth minus freedom
—equals Academia
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
The wound bleeds free
—that kills the angry heart
(From My Novel: ‘Jumping Into The Darkness’- February, 2021)
Shovel ready verse,
new soil to disturb
Whose well to make deeper
—its draft future heard
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Being, becoming,
though different the same
All motion reflexive,
where time rules the game
Being, becoming,
whose vow is enforced
When married to both
—refusing divorce
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: February, 2021)