Can truth exist
within a vacuum
Can it stand alone
without listener or teller
Can its words contain value
left to themselves
Can its verity outlive
its many disciples
Can its hope transcend
all circumstance and change
Can truth given unto itself
—exist at all
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)
The more we are given
the more that gets taken away
As Stephen Hawking looks out
from his empowering inferno
His vision to create and inspire
anew…
Exhausts the very flame
—he lives to ignite
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)
Painting myself into an emotional corner
feelings trapped and staid
Family eliminated one by one
old hurts and wounds replayed
Each year a brick in this wall of pain
to shield me from the loss
Isolation my next of kin
—love the only cost
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)
Own that space
you walk within
Show your face
the same again
The facts will change
the weather turn
But only deep
within you’ll learn
To own that space
you walk within
All fear delinquent
—the renter’s sin!
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)
Can I still hate your politics
and love your music
Do I have to hate your wife
to feel your pain
Can I still love the message
after rejecting its meaning
Do I have to choose between
—again and again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)
Beyond genius
the spirit flies
Beyond genius
the mood decries
Beyond genius
no courses rowed
Beyond genius
all time disowned
Beyond genius
the map refolds
Beyond genius
a world untold
Beyond genius
the critics gasp
Beyond genius
no serpent asp
Beyond genius
the telling stops
Beyond genius
no on—then off
Beyond genius
all sight and sound
Beyond genius
the square is round
Beyond genius
no lies are told
Beyond genius
what’s new is old
Beyond genius
the heavens sing
Beyond genius
—that final thing
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)
Taking a last breath inside
the final moment
All perception at once
inhaled
—never to be released again
(Las Vegas: August, 2015)
When their finest work gets
left behind
The great are often
forgotten
Remembered only in
metaphors of orphancy
Imprisoned within the brilliance
—of a distant light
(Las Vegas Nevada: August, 2015)
Oft times,
The smallest of things
Are the biggest of all
Oft times,
The softer you land
The harder you fall
Oft times,
Life is a present
Tied with ribbon and lace
Oft times,
The one’s you ignored
In your dreams have a face
Oft times,
The beginning and end
Join together attached
Oft times,
Those doors that you locked
With new love come unlatched
Oft times,
The family lost
In new loyalty found
Oft times,
The things that you’re not
—free your world to go round
(Airplane To Las Vegas: August 1, 2015)
Walking the line,
each step unmeasured and long
Walking the line,
memories distant and gone
Walking the line,
time seemed forever to last
Walking the line,
the future indentured
—to the past
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015 )
An Anthology Of Perception 