Writing should be
like making love
If you have to be taught
—you’re lost
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Writing should be
like making love
If you have to be taught
—you’re lost
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
The flames rose
as history burned
—and memory settled into ash
The smoke carrying away
all reasons why
—dying embers of the past
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Never let intelligence
Get in the way of good judgment
Never let excuses
Inside your dreams
Never let the refusals
Cancel out the invitations
Never let tomorrow
—destroy today
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Living inside the moment,
Temporal things
Pass me by
On their march to permanence
Attached to everything
But themselves,
They stand as false Icons
To a time once lived–then put away
A trophy case of remembrance…
Enshrining what was lost
In the gathering
Dust
Never rediscovered…
Defining what death means
In the gathering
Dust
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
A voice goes silent
in the distant wind
No tracks to follow
no path within
Muses cry
as shadows fade
Their chorus faint
with dreams unmade
The past abandoned
tomorrow gone
This moment orphaned
the night so long
Goodbye tomorrow
farewell today
All hope now fleeting
—time castaway
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
Coming from nowhere
Going the same
The tracks in front
Pointing to
Tracks behind
The wind on the lake
Reminding
That I am still a guest
The snow on the ice
An invitation
Begging acceptance
New Hampshire Winters
Are white
In my consciousness
And frozen in their
Clarity
Even whiter
Dawns
Out of the stillness
A Moose crashes
Through the snow
Never acknowledging
My presence
His majesty
Confirming everything
That unfound I’ve lost
His spirit cries out
And with quiet respect
I follow him across
The frozen lake
Leaving tracks of memory
One final time
—never to be seen again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Escaping myself,
I ran into the wilderness
Escaping myself,
I ran back through the dawn
Escaping myself,
my shadow had vanished
Until capturing myself
—in the words of your song
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Buying into eternity
one Poem at a time
My dreams are my currency
a richness sublime
Buying into eternity
words soar into verse
On the wings of an Angel
—salvation dispersed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
Ending In Regret
Most of us wait
for what few of us get
Then start the excuses
—that end in regret
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2014)
Inside Your Heart
With your every smile,
my life grows longer
Both on this earth
—and inside your heart
(To My Grandson Hunter: January, 2014)
The Felony Of Language
The felony of language
is within the larceny
of being neither right
—nor wrong
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2014)
Unspoken Dawn
The morning returns
new verses unheard
rising eternal
—in the unspoken dawn
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: January, 2014)
Speaking with one voice
the silence unsettled
As the many inside me
cry out to be heard
Laced within my words
never fluent themselves
Woven in my acceptance
—their gift to inspire
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: January, 2014)