Whom could it be, this professional Poet
selling his blood for a few kernels of grain
Whom could it be, this professional Poet
pandering to others in search of a name
Whom could it be, this professional Poet
drunken talk-show appearance, stumbling again
Whom could it be, this professional Poet
the strongest of liars—the weakest of men
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Be it Melville or Tolstoy
or a Pen still to burn
Know the words are just borrowed
—until silence returns
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Words apprehend
a willing prisoner
—verse to fly between the bars
The latest inmate
with breath surrendered
—an incarcerated bard
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Fortune Untold
Beyond the critics reach
beyond the assassin’s grasp
A rainbow exists—with fortune untold
refracting present, future, and past
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Time Dissolved
Wringing the joy out of every moment,
catching those drops that fall
Time becomes septic draining into itself
—the past and future dissolved
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2104)
Poetic transfusion
prose bleeding through
Words but a suture
—stitching the truth
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
That first book
That last book
That next book
That other book
Beginning and ending in the middle
—they all turn out the same
The first book
The last book
The middle book
The forgotten book
Memory plagues that already said
—only to be said again
The first book
The last book
The borrowed book
The successful book
Images recreated
—as words jump page to page
The first book
The last book
The closing book
The memory book
An orchestra calls a final waltz
—its conductor off the stage
The promised book
The distant book
The transforming book
The forever book
Sameness trapped a clone of time
—as difference strikes again
That finished book
That published book
That famous book
That holy book
All critics choking in the dark
—light burning end to end
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Carrying your heart
Inside my pocket
I traveled the world
Searching for love
When fate was unkind
You never complained
As I forgot to thank you
—time after time
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
The signpost a warning
a resting black swan
Its flight to perdition
last call from beyond
With roses ungifted,
their thorns bury deep
Last moon a reminder
a reckoning steep
The doctor’s watch broken
your time shorter still
His prognosis a token
beyond suture or pill
He asks if you’re ready,
you say that you’re not
You ask if it matters…
the main lesson untaught
And into the night
you try once again
To find deeper meaning
to reach beyond blame
But those last final minutes
only serve to remind
What the jaded and hoping
—are never to find
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
A Warrior’s tears…
blood from above
His fury unleashed
in a most perfect love
Though few understand it
a life heaven loaned
Dying immortal
—to be welcomed back home
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
A four year endeavor
A lifetime of pain
The hours put in
Always fighting the strain
One hundredth of a second
Your dream crashes down
The spoils eluded
Someone else with the crown
No pictures or news clips
Today come your way
The prize to another
The trophy at bay
With pity now over
It’s time to dig in
The reward in the training
New endings begin
So head back to the track
Your pool or the court
The bar a bit higher
Your coach to retort…
“It’s all up to you
As you reweigh the cost
Never quitting—the magic
Until then nothing lost”
(Watching The Winter Olympics: February, 2014)
