I sold my soul
for new meter and rhyme
Trading salvation
for a thing greater still
The joyful embrace
of one hell damning phrase
Living immortal, perpetual
—fulfilled
I sold my soul
as the Devil laughed
Knowing not, my final words
were for him
Exposing his lie
and his legions of hate
With my last breath
—Divinity’s hymn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Fusing thought with emotion,
words come to life
Images eternal,
feelings ignite
Lines play in concert,
all stanzas to meet
My psyche impassioned
—my spirit complete
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
When my words are read
by the common man
No higher praise could
any writer stand
Awards and cheer
from the seasoned elite
Pale when measured
against those ‘in the street’
As I’m embraced
by those ‘salt of the earth’
My spirit lifts,
and I’m home from my search
Steadfast and loyal,
their voices repeat
No more could I ask
—no more could I seek
(Villanova Pennsylvania: Watching the New Hampshire Primary- February 9th, 2016)
You can wish and hope for a hundred years,
or play the game a day at a time
You can focus on what’s at the end of the road,
or squeeze three nickels from your very last dime
You can pray for still more than some others might have,
or be thankful for what lies at your feet
You can love in the face of jealousy and hate
—or start downward on hell’s one-way street
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
To live within the moment,
and write as love does now befriend
“Light shining brightest as
hours grow short”
A beginning reunites with
the journey’s end
“Memory imploding
on fate’s retort”
A window reopens,
my heart beats faster still
“Epiphany’s march
neither to nor from”
To be saved in a final breath,
one last line to say I will
“The past and future
left exposed—undone”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Your head’s in the sand,
the canary at hand
The coward inside you,
his kingdom commands
Mired in apathy,
lost in denial
One last Armageddon
—the price of your wile
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
A hemorrhaging madness…
wounds bleeding again
Old stitches have broken
death marking the end
Unsutured indemnity
ensuring your pain
Flesh burning in enmity
—uncauterized shame
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
The vineyard has ripened
new words on the vine
The meanings have deepened
new blessings Divine
The verses fermented,
I drink unto thee
Consecration most sacred
the blood pouring free
The vineyard has ripened
fresh words on the vine
With faith still unshaken
my thoughts and prayers—Thine
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
An abundance of denial…
your mind turns away
What spirit embraces,
wealth hides and delays
“The dignity of the old man
in worn tattered clothes
Frayed pants covering high
button shoes, but not toes
“He wanders among us
just over the line
As eyes fail to see
what souls hope to find”
An elegance to rival
your white tie and tails
Where life now stripped free
of false richness—prevails
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Nocturnal flower
In need of sleep
Your petals wilt
The count for sheep
New dawn unpromised
The die is cast
A croupier wearing
Sun’s setting mask
Through endless courtship
Faith on the run
A Jester whispers
“Your dreams have come”
The meadow waiting
Its reaper gone
New light unspoken
—your buds in song
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
An Anthology Of Perception 