Still looking for that lost back road…
a lifetime spent to find
The one that’s waiting just for me,
to travel it sublime
It leads to my beginning,
every twist and every bend
To take me back inside myself
—all travel there to end
(Rosemont Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
No off position
on the genius switch
No light
to then burn out
No cracks to form
on Leonardo’s bronze
No Frazier Ali
rout
The expectations
stretch beyond
What humanity
can span
The eye of the needle,
the camel threads
What always could
—still can
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
Only a Tiger will approach a Tiger,
Lions never do
To give him pause and make him think,
“What will this Tiger do”
All other beasts he rests cocksure,
a meal they will become
But faced with one of his own kind
—to stay or then to run
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
‘For Kiley, Hunter, Braden & Parker’
Persuading you with
my verses
Never convincing you
with my yarn
Your heartstrings twist
in braided strands
To mend my spirit,
darned
All shouts have turned
to whispers
New melodies
resound
A phrase to dance
inside your head
As love
—each word surrounds
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
Some came home…
but never came back
Some came back…
but never came home
Caught between
forever
And what forever
—had disowned
(Vietnam Veterans Memorial: March, 2020)
To be,
Or not to be
A Poet…
Who’s to say,
Who’s to know
—who’s to really care
(Dreamsleep: March, February)
Drunk in Barstow,
waiting for a waitress,
who gets off at 2:00 a.m.
The crap game cleaned me,
two bums on the pool table,
snoring like a train
Drunk in Barstow,
third time this month,
I just never seem to learn
The waitress said,
“My boyfriend’s gone,
truck’s on the road to Bern”
Drunk in Barstow,
on borrowed time,
the repo man at hand
I swear tomorrow
I’ll get it right,
tonight—any way I can
(Barstow California: July, 1991)
The wound bleeds free
—that kills the angry heart
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
From My Novel ‘Falling Into The Darkness’
If I could start back over fresh,
a songwriter I’d be
The words inside the music,
in joyful harmony
If I could greet the dawn again,
I’d pick up the guitar
And strum my way into the night
—toward that distant star
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
God created distance,
so the wounded could go home
The searchers and the dreamers,
the ones born bound to roam
He then laid down the open plain,
below a towering sky
And set his voice into the wind
—for pilgrims such as I
(Villanova University: March, 2020)
An Anthology Of Perception 