A Melody Unsung

Can you be distracted by the critic

  or the public acclaim

 

Can you see through the fire

  and renew all that’s burned

 

Can you look past the signposts

  and those messages fixed

 

Can your heart stay undamaged

  as the world tempts your soul

 

Can you run through loud voices

  with yours still unspoken

 

Can you make it to tomorrow

  without leaving today

 

Can you give love to those hateful

  with vengeance recalled

 

Can you carry your grandfather’s words

  into the land of the unborn

 

Can you hang up your spear

  inside the enemy camp

 

Can you live to see the beginning

  and the end die at last

 

Can your voice remain pure

  neither bartered nor loaned

 

Can you listen through the smoke

   —for a melody unsung

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

Co-Weavers

I’m not part of

  any movement

 

Or adhere to

  any Regent

 

I don’t follow

  any rules

 

That aren’t in most part

  my own

 

I don’t

  attempt to teach

 

Or begin

  to preach

 

A stronger

  thread

 

Than

  what you’ve sewn

 

I don’t typecast

  iconoclast

 

Or look for

  acceptance

 

Under the cover

  of my thoughts

 

In the darkness

  of my room

 

I don’t criticize

  bastardize

 

Or tear apart your

  weaving

 

Asking only the same

  from you

 

As you sit upon

  your loom

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

Darkness Disowned

Since you left

 —poetry has become my lover

 

Since you left

 —long days have turned to moments

 

Since you left

 —all memory lives organic

 

Since you left

 —the words return unfettered

 

Since you left

 —the sun has lost its shadow

 

And since you left

  —all darkness now disowned

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

Two Warriors

The last bout of the night

  two warriors would fight

  with legends

  now at hand

 

Feet and fists wrapped

  their spirits attacked

  and of their bodies

  they would demand

 

Each kick got higher

  as two hearts aspired

  to what lay just beyond

  their grasp

 

And as the referee sounded

  over hearts that still pounded

  only the best of each other

    —had they asked

 

(Seoul Korea: August, 1976)

The Present Calls

Unstop the drain

  kiss the pain

  let nature run its course

 

Trip the wire

  start the fire

  new vision at its source

 

Time unstrung

  past on the run

  tomorrow lies to all

 

Hearts open wide

  the moment flies

   —past memory to recall

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Naked Before The Mob

Why is ‘Almost Good Enough’

  never what you need?

 

Why is ‘Clearly Not Enough’

  an ounce more than you deserve?

 

Why is ‘Almost What You Need’

  the most you’ll ever have?

 

Why is ‘It’s Not Only That’

  the only thing that’s left?

 

Why is ‘In Almost Every Case’

  not in any case at all?

 

Why is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’

  the thing sure to be missed?

 

Why is ‘In Actuality’

  in real terms actually not?

 

Why is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’

  the biggest lie you tell?

 

Why is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’

  the one you continue to try?

 

Why is the ‘Absolute Final Time’

  the one you repeat again?

 

Why is ‘Really’ not real at all

  and spoken then in vain?

 

Why is ‘Probably’ not possible

   or even close to that?

 

Why is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’

  the top of your agenda?

 

Why is the trusted ‘Old College Try’

  strictly out of school?

 

Why is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’

  the easiest thing you do?

 

Why is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’

  so much harder than before?

 

Why is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’

  the end of the debate?

 

Why is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’

  the beginning of what comes next?

 

Why is ‘So What’ a euphemism

  for the most important thing you do?

 

Why is ‘It Is What It Is’

  categorically not, and never meant to be?

 

Why is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’

  ceramic and for sale?

 

Why is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’

  the one taken in disgust?

 

Why is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’

   four points more than its worth?

 

Why is the special ‘Love You Lost’

  the only one you’ve never found?

 

Why is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’

  the one that flies away?

 

Why is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’

  the silence you extol?

 

When will your words wrap like copper wire  

  to conduct the truth unrobbed

 

When will you cease to pander and mislead

    —naked before the mob

 

  

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)