A late night deposit
from my spirit to my soul
A transfer without interest
its currency stole
The main door won’t open,
the drive-thru is dark
One last check to write
with my chariot parked
The clerk’s eyes on fire,
as she asks me my name
“It’s there on the check”
I repeat in refrain
“Your last transfer I see,
we’ll be losing you now
“The account to be closed
—take the elevator down”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Public exposure….
part of the game
Open disclosure….
paid for with pain
A window through time
opened once and then closed
Immortality’s portal
—the minefield you chose
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
There’s safety in rhythm
salvation in rhyme
Truth in the format
a structure sublime
To children and sages
their message rings true
And down through the ages
—speaks loudest to you
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
The visionary dies,
but the image remains
To that we are faithful,
to that which sustains
The Poet is gone,
but his words are reborn
In the hearts of the needy
—those once left forlorn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
Poetic psychiatry,
the now proven way
Much cheaper and faster
once here—then to stay
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
The chances I take
transfigure my brain
The harm and the risk
metaphysically the same
They rush through my spirit
all fear on the run
Transformation now total
—the cost zero-sum
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Old men making deals
the young taking bullets
Politicians to steal
no one to prevent it
Athletes and rappers
sit on the throne
Parents and teachers
their message disowned
Freedom on trial
both inside and out
The world in denial
—no place left to shout
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
The words in the melody
the words on the page
Related but different
the Minstrel and Sage
The music recaptures
what ink only starts
As harmony sings
from an angelic heart
A phrase and a lyric
as cousins relate
Too distant for brothers
too close in their fate
One soul with two masters
each fighting to gain
Your soul ever after
—your spirit to claim
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
Like fence posts in the heavy snow,
I leave the past behind
And walk a line toward morning
and tomorrow
Each post a buried symbol
of a choice I failed to make
Its wire torn
and hanging in the wind
The range that lies ahead
a second chance to right the future
The sun now hanging low
against its peaks
Mountains pull me onward
each decision a new calling
My heart and will in locking steps
—as darkness falls again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
Always in rhythm
quite often in rhyme
The verses hold constant
Lords over time
A perpetual beginning
the perpetual end
Their structure intones
—what the meaning portends
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
An Anthology Of Perception 