Draining all there was to say,

he hemorrhaged one more poem

Last vial of his history,

whose burden now atoned

 

With final drops to say adieu,

the past and future dead

His last tomorrow here today

—and time no longer bled

 

(Dreamsleep: April. April 2022)

The politics of religion,

its statues on fire

All martyred saints burning

in canonized pyre

 

As cardinals of vengeance

seek new hearts to be stoned

Inquisitors ramble,

the Creator on loan

 

The religion of politics,

 papal decrees

Guilt laden promises,

 salvationists fee

 

Crusaders on horseback,

twelve Apostles alone

Which is more dangerous,

the Word or the throne

 

(Chorus)

 

“Raise the curtain—praise the Lord,

darkness censures fast

Faith though blind, still hope to find,

beyond iconoclasts

 

“With eyes wide open, see the light,

all else to render lies

His love unending, given free,

eternal life the prize”

 

 

(The New Room: April, 2022)

Torn from the moment,

each page sorely ragged

whose ink has long faded

but memory bound

 

The story is telling,

its magic eternal

inside it awaits us

—a treasure unfound

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Far from where I’m supposed to be,

destined here to roam

Lost in waters still unmarked,

drifting and alone

On my way to nowhere fast,

distance calls my name

The wind a suitor, time undone

—future shores to claim

 

(The New Room: April, 2022)

Lusting after everything,

my words in search of what that brings

I ride through time upon the wind

—to chase the virgin queen

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

I put a saddle on the wind

and rode it through the storm

 

The bridle placed, the buckle cinched,

the reins, my soul reborn

 

Inside each stirrup passion spurs,

the present close at hand

 

Behind whose mane I charge within

—in search of who I am

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

You can go anywhere as someone else,

the masks and jesters play

invisible to sound and touch

the Lords and Creatures pray

 

To rent the future—sell the past,

the landlord still unnamed

invulnerable to what they sell

the real prize still unclaimed

 

To cry out once your voice reversed

lone echo at your back

the Landed Gentry comes and goes

—the crossroads blackest cat

 

(The New Room: April, 2022)

With no respect for time,

words revisit

Invading my consciousness,

attacking my fear

The moment conscripted

beyond all denial

 An ageless understanding

—of what’s to become

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

To be a true champion

—conquer yourself

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Everybody’s bad day…

a badge without a star

the one who stood when others fled,

each day to raise the bar

 

The one they all could come to,

when freedom was in chains

the light that rampaged in the night

—to hunt what darkness claimed

 

(The New Room: April, 2022)