Out of great struggle
comes even greater opportunity
Each threat being glue
and a tie that binds
With noble purpose
we define our highest calling
Freedom in our blood
—by our will refined
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
‘To America, On The 4th Of July’
Forty-five caliber abstract
targets big and small
Bullseye in the mirror
memories recalled
Warning shots abandoned
prey now closing in
One last bullet chosen
—fired from within
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2018)
I was not alive in 1910
yet things were pretty good
No sleepless nights or stomach aches
always understood
In the quiet calm a promise lay
a portent yet to come
And born I was despite myself
—now eighty years undone
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 1991)
The past doesn’t pass away quickly enough
with the future on the run
The present an echo between two lies
—as the moment never comes
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2018)
What was created to expose
is now a fortress just to hide
A bastion of higher learning
within a haven safe for lies
Where discourse once was treasured
the ivy droops and sighs
With comfort their true measure,
the dilettantes still cry
Plato is disgusted,
John Locke is more than riled
As a millennia of learning
is mocked in false denial
Students weak and wounded
from those lessons never learned
Their tomorrow’s but a doomsday
their futures sure to burn
Those words were there to save them
both the hated and revered
All truth in dialectics
—now abandoned by their fear
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
Through the keyhole darkly,
he could now remember his name
Through the keyhole darkly,
his medicine kicked in once again
Through the keyhole darkly,
he knew his daughter by her face
Through the keyhole darkly,
he was now back home in his space
Through the keyhole darkly,
his dog was closely by his side
Through the keyhole darkly,
his eyes though saddened, opened wide
Through the keyhole darkly,
her voice unwrapped a precious gift
Through the keyhole darkly
a love once anchored, set adrift
Through the keyhole darkly,
he felt the light begin to dim
Through the keyhole darkly
his markers fade, his reference thin
Through the keyhole darkly
the killer thief arrives once more
Through the keyhole darkly
all loss of self—a closing door
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
Are the questions far better
than the answers?
Do they contain the possibility
that definition never will?
Is the magic of perception
open ended in wondering why?
Is the essence of life itself
beyond what words can ever tell?
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
Compression ingestion
The world to implode
The numbers decreasing
—all resistance explodes
From diamond to carbon
Wheels spin in reverse
The groundhog, the treadmill
—new millennium’s curse
(Brooklyn, New York: March, 2016)
It’s not about technique
or style or genre
But something more…like a reflection
or memory once known
Its light coming through
a universe dark…undiscovered
Its message more a feeling than any genius
—or logic grown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 27th 2016)
Watching Elton John’s Free Concert
Secrets keep us sick
as emotions run and hide
Perception dark and thick
the truth turned into lies
Secrets keep us sick
with denial center stage
Time bartered, the moment gone
—nothing left but rage
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2018)
An Anthology Of Perception 