Palliative to hospice,
I jump from stone to stone
The river waits in silence
—its waterfall unknown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Palliative to hospice,
I jump from stone to stone
The river waits in silence
—its waterfall unknown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Deadly to his enemies,
confusing to his friends
While faithful to his writing,
—all justified intent
Furious in times of war,
in peace his vision burns
But past the fray inside his verse,
a gentler spirit yearns
Salvation long then sacrificed,
a fate he can’t deny
A cross that’s left for him to bear,
but still his spirit cries
Through battles mostly devil sent,
and victories sealed with death
This guilt the price he’s had to pay,
now felt with every breath
One wish at last he prays out loud,
one cry is sent above
“My spear, my pen, my will to live
I trade all back for love”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
My life a poem, forego the count,
that comes in threes and fours
The space between to catch new breath,
that time may now allure
These moments gifted more than once,
constant in their prayer
Whose vow will cast the river wide
—new words to baptize there
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
I didn’t know it at the time,
but my misspent youth was planned
The training ground for what I’d write,
then hard to understand
The many schools, the teachers chides,
expulsions my reward
Postgraduate work for future truth,
all voices untoward
The risks were high, survival mined,
Shangi-La, a vagrant’s room
My pen disclaimed, all actions shamed,
flat broke one afternoon
From the diner’s window I heard the song
that turned my life around
As Gregg Allman sang ‘Melissa,’
my true destiny was found
And today I harbor no regrets,
there’s no one left to blame
As I write the words for me hard one
—my sinful past reclaimed
(Strafford Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
‘Thank You, Gregg—I Miss You’
Like wine uncorked to breathe the air,
my heart and mind become
The richness of this life I’ve lived,
all fortune on the run
Not looking back, but looking in,
the key to feelings past
Where hides a treasure, memory locked
—its legacy recast
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
The pen and the keyboard…
their white flag of truce
Now tattered and burning,
new words on the loose
The ink stains once mighty,
a cursor now reigns
As deep into cyberspace
—the future proclaims
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
To pierce today’s attention span,
fewer words are best
A point honed sharp for one deep thrust
—one is all you’ll get
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Is there disappointment in arrival…
anticipation the crown jewel
Are the accolades left hollow,
uncertainty what’s new
Is acceptance yours or theirs to own,
all badges keyed to lock
Does your soul ignite once past the flame
—your words no longer hot
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
What know ye of the truth,
that final window left to close
Who calls thee to its breast,
a suckled vision
—heaven shown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
What is this one life really worth,
the price of many sins
What is that one last question asked
—if never to forgive
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)