A metrical escape valve,
letters in the maelstrom
Lightning on the horizon,
second child of the Gods
Sacrificial waterfall,
its current overflowing
A literal dilation
—of the verbal supreme
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
A metrical escape valve,
letters in the maelstrom
Lightning on the horizon,
second child of the Gods
Sacrificial waterfall,
its current overflowing
A literal dilation
—of the verbal supreme
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
A Poem reborn posthumously…
its Poet comes alive
Death to grovel at his feet,
words not entombed, survive
A Poem reborn posthumously,
each phrase a breath divine
Its voice once heard, the ages served,
all seasons left to rhyme
A verse pulls back the shroud of death,
as baptismal fonts refill
Whose waters wash the gravesite clean,
with spirit redistilled
As the Poet rises from the crypt,
in light his name recalled
To free the many verses chained
—whose truth his legend calls
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)
The darker side of morning,
the drier side of rain
A memory left forgetting
—a spirit uncontained
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)
Breaking through the titled ceiling,
my voice survived unnamed
Unleashed to save the future past,
with words their truth proclaimed
All time bereft of judgment,
all feelings self contained
Diploma mailed but left unsigned
—its seal in freedom stained
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)
(An Anthology Of Perception Vol. 3)
“I write the first draft
and paint the second
“But the third
—I get to sing”
(Villanova Pennsylvania, 2016)
Can a phrase rule
over a paragraph
Can the right word
stand alone
Can a thought be held
within one breath
Can the truth in short
be known
Can you single out
the future
Can you paraphrase
the past
Can you release the hope
inside a wish
Can you make this moment
last
Can you keep the magic,
its spell unbound
Can Apollo set you
free
Can you say it while
defying time
Can you voice your souls
release
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
There are many futures
—but only one past
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
Never writing for the masses,
just writing for you
One lone set of ears,
to share life anew
Never writing for consensus,
my words not for rent
To call through the ages
—with a voice heaven sent
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
Delay success for as long
As you can…
Living up to an image
Will only cloud your judgment
Stealing what you can least
Afford to lose
Dragging you into the illusion
And myth
That could take a lifetime
To rail against
Dragging you into the
Vicarious trap
Of praise falsely given
—and wasted dreams
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
Prose and Poetry
came together
In a marriage of
infusion
—each wanting from the other
what they could not bring
—each vowing to the other
words they longed to sing
Birthing a new music
of epic proportion
In an infant now timeless
beyond simple refrain
—with a message for the ages
wrapped in lyrical rhyme
—in a melody of sages
defying space and time
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)