Seventeen children
on a highway to hell
Thumbs out—noses down,
perdition rings their bell
Seventeen children,
their backs now fully turned
The piper calls them blindly
—their futures scorched and burned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Seventeen children
on a highway to hell
Thumbs out—noses down,
perdition rings their bell
Seventeen children,
their backs now fully turned
The piper calls them blindly
—their futures scorched and burned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
The tailored line,
bespoken Poet
With needle sharp,
to hem and sew it
Where thoughts as threads,
stitch out as whole
Whose words once seamed
—contain my soul
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Where fixes the point of no return,
fixes the point assured
Where fixes the point of no return
—it’s there you’ll find thy Lord
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Memory of light,
vision of God
Centered return
—orbit of love
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
The beginning of all beginnings,
the end of all ends
—one question in-between
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
With death on the floor,
he tried to hang up his salvation
But the coat hook to eternity
was full
The closet door to redemption,
locked from the inside
The cloak of forgiveness
—for someone else to wear
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Can you own the present,
while renting the past
Can you steal back the truth,
from the future at last
Will the reasoned excuse,
ever be reason enough
For all questions to merge
—with the answers rebuffed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Do you spend twenty percent of your time
acquiring your beliefs
And eighty percent of your time
in defense
Do you have blinders on
about what you conceive
In fear of the critics
pretense
Are your views narrow focused
and then watered down
As the truth disavowed
slips away
Is your memory tainted
in times left to waste
As your efforts
—retreat in dismay
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)
If consciousness were to exist
beyond the self
What opinions
might it change
Can something exist outside
its space
Can something be something
it’s not
Is time the new slave
to the master it birthed
Can the end
be started again
Can the future or past
exist on their own
Can the present
be something that’s both
Can you believe what the facts
will disprove or disclaim
With reflection beyond logic
and guilt
Can you teach what you’ve learned
in spite of yourself
Can your silence
—tame the mountainous roar
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Left just one chance
to gild the night
One kiss
—before you leave
8th Grade Poetry Contest
St Thomas Of Villanova Grade School
May, 1962