I’ve forever written
as myself
Few influences will
show
Neither Hemingway nor
Faulkner
Not Melville or
Thoreau
But as one who saw through
all of that
With so much more
to know
I search the land
and stars above
For ink
—my pen to flow
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
My words the result
of the times I’ve lived
not a classroom exercise
My feelings all paid
with the blood of my fears
not a rambling diatribe
My trail has been lined
with each tear and misstep
to mark the way ahead
My life a memory
telling a tale
—whose direction my soul has led
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
No time set aside
The words reformed
Again at their own pace
No place to reside
They’re written down
On a napkin or empty space
When I try to hide
They find me sure
In mountain or in plain
As new moments chide
The past adieu
—and thunder turns to rain
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
New blood will flow
and breath exhale
—as my steps go far and wide
With verse out front
to lead the way
—to that promised other side
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Café poseurs,
internet losers
Reflections through
the shallow glass
Virtual wishing,
dot.com remissing
Clicks and bytes
as the world goes past
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
The Sage brought me to the Muse,
when I was but sixteen
Her face familiar, her words estranged,
my fate caught in-between
As years went on she whispered
and oft times took the lead
To guide my wishes past my fear
—old wounds there left to bleed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
Working at looking studious,
the academic went his way
Pontificating what he didn’t know,
his students bowed and swayed
Reading only what was duly sworn
writing safe, within the shelf
To himself was he now smitten blind
—an intellectual elf
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Words rushed through my head
clearing cobwebs away
All letters on edge
cutting doors as they played
From one room to the other,
they matched up and danced
And from basement to attic,
my mind was enhanced
Without reason, beyond memory,
they sharpened my feel
Until alone they then left me
—to confess and reveal
(Train-Penn Station NYC: March, 2015)
Run away from the what
let the how lead the way
Keep the questions before you
and the answers at bay
Deem your motion perpetual
with all stops left behind
As those presents unwrapped
open up in your mind
May the wind rise to greet you
and your sun never set
On those places now virgin
and a lover unmet
May the wisdom of sages
be your rallying cry
As you course through the ages
—forever wondering why
(Train-New Haven: March, 2015)
To see any clearer
I drifted away
From your
lies
From your
madness
From your paperless
tray
The word forest
called
For my pen to break
free
From the blurred
introspection
Hovering close to your
tree
When my vision
unclouded
A bigger picture
appeared
In whose distance
I found
What your emptiness
feared
(Train In Massachusetts: March, 2015)
