Riding into the moment

with pen ablaze

past-future on the hunt

Fear taking a seat

across the fire

begging for what it wants

The bugles blow

all lights go out

—twin enemies approach

Upon whose sleeves

my heart is laid

in doubt the morning cloaked

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

I rode the feeling

down a running stream

—to the river of no return

And cast my fate

into the current’s wake

—toward a waterfall unheard

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

I was a soldier, but never sure

of those things I was

charged to do

I was asked to fight

pick up helmet and gun

men dying around me I knew

The places I’ve been

and the things I’ve done

all eclipse the known profane

Now with beauty fraught

I lock the gate

—inside this prison I remain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

Twilight fell onto my

windowsill

Demon fire in full

retreat

The stars above

glowing pulls on a rug

Woven deep into the blackness

I sleep

Days grip is unchained

the cantor sings as he prays

As St. Michael cries

THE SERPENT UNDONE

The sun has now left

though your dreams not bereft

Only the night

—points to heaven above

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

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)

Is your pen fully loaded,

is the piston pulled back

Are the words of high-caliber,

is your target intact

Does intention self load,

does conviction re-sight

Will the ink run like blood

—when you fire in the night

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

If you live long enough

it all unravels

From the first thing

to the last

If you reach far enough

your spirit travels

Beyond the answers

and questions asked

If you wait long enough

the seasons meld

Snow and flowers together

sewn

If you love deep enough

an Angel guides you

Present, past, and future

—known

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Blindly spending the

bulk

Of my temporal

capital

Hourly deficits

started to climb

And piled into

notes

I will never

repay

Stored in vaults

that I’ll never find

Words lay

uncashed

As I waste even

more

In my attempt to go

back and re-sign

All those debts

left untendered

Never forgiven

now due

That fate

has secured

—and defined

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

Unadulterated and pure

the thoughts left my mind

Untrained and unschooled

no restrictions to bind

The page below virgin

as I wear out my pen

A literary wanderer

—starting over again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

You can’t

Or you won’t,

The result is the same

The difference

Decision,

And it’s yours once again

You can’t or you won’t

Grandest excuse

Of the small

When you won’t

Then you can’t,

And the won’t, worst of all

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)