Utopia belongs to the fleet of heart,
but the truth
—only to the brave
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Utopia belongs to the fleet of heart,
but the truth
—only to the brave
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
I saw the end
in the beginning
at the beginning
of the end
I wrote the final chapter
before the preface
with nothing left
to send
I walked a thousand miles
before sitting down
then walked a thousand miles
again
To reach the end of
the beginning
the beginning of
the end
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Every voice needs an ear
for it to be free
Every writer, a reader,
or the words cease to be
In my case I’ve been lucky
though she came to me late
For my dearest sweet Laura
—the key to my gate
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
‘To My Dear Friend Laura’
Let others inside you
as reflection begins
Your truth like a mirror
that calls from within
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
I walked with Colby,
he never walked with me
His spirit to guide us,
his love in the lead
We circled the globe
a time and a half
His tail was my compass
to guide us steadfast
In all kinds of weather
we stuck to the trail
Under sunshine and rain
our forays prevailed
In May of last year
he collapsed on our walk
And with valor he tried
but his body would balk
Its been downhill since then
with him not knowing why
The knowing inside me
his neuropathy slide
I knew it was coming
as he struggled to stay
And he fought till the end
on this very sad day
As I looked in his eyes
for the last final time
Willing to give up my life
for his health to revive
The fates were against us
his clock had run out
The pain in his parting
—the joy I’m without
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November 9th, 2018)
‘Today, I lost The Best Friend I Ever Had’
Caught in the same web
of insecurity
—we write
To ease the pain, to emancipate
the joy
—speaking truth to our doubts
Freeing them upon the wind, all
questions unanswered
—as our voices escape
Crying out names that only heaven
will know
—while eternity smiles
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
See with two eyes
Think with both brains
Speak in many voices
—but love with one heart
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
The day you realize ‘you are a writer’
distinct from what you’ve written
Is a day you’ll treasure for what it brings
—and not what it leaves behind
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Make all of your life a prayer
put all of your words into song
Take heart in those lyrics still to be sung
—before the music forever is gone
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
‘From The Book Of Prayers’
Released from the prison
Of the extended word
Verse offered
Asylum
And a means of escape
Carrying me deep
To where the future-past
Hides
All time to mislead
—as the present conflates
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2015)