Twilight beckons

a wavering moon

Chasing the sunset

from darkening skies

 

Clouded reminder

renewal has come

Birthing new shadows

in fresh summer rain

 

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)

The present is in your future,

the present in your past

The present a sacred mystery,

its moment to unmask

The present is in your memory,

the present in your dreams

The present neither begins nor ends

—eternity set free

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Dipping his toe

in the river’s denial,

uncertain of its depth

 

Floating his memories

on ripples of fate,

his deepest secrets kept

 

Refusing to sink

excuses cut free,

his reasons left to buoy

 

Erasing his doubts

 the island ahead

—all sharks turned into Koi

 

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)

The wandering Poet,

so wild—so free

 

With each mile walked,

a new reverie

 

Eight Muses to guide him,

his steps fall in line

 

Their prophecy calling,

their message sublime

 

The wandering Poet

won’t stop till he’s done

 

All motion incessant,

all verse zero-sum

 

His trail can be seen

by those willing to climb

 

Their destiny’s marked

—their pasts left behind

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

 

I dress up every Sunday,

but only in my mind

My coat and tie in tattered shreds,

the past and future bind

 

To celebrate in peasant rags,

as memory dances free

Imagining in formal garb

—what only I can see

 

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)

Some days my mind is hardened,

on others like a sponge

 

Today my thoughts are heartened,

with feelings on the run

 

Tonight as light transitions,

and darkness fills the void

 

My mind and heart will lay as one,

true lovers—dreams of joy

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

Wedded to a grownup dream,

betrothed to whom I sleep

My lover laced in shades of gray,

her shadow most discreet

 

Vows of heartache lost in time,

one chance to pledge again

to tend her garden—heart unbound, 

and till her love unstemmed

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

I said no to the man

and made my own bed

 

I cut my own trail

with eyes straight ahead

 

In debt to myself

but thankful to all

 

My words freely spoken,

their verdict my call

 

I beat my own rhythm

on multiple drums

 

I structured the lyrics

to sing and to hum

 

The nighttime began

what the morning forgave

 

A living refusal,

my back to the grave

 

The years have renewed,

all memories collide

 

The young and the old,

the truth and the lies

 

A comet yet burning,

new verse in the sky

 

One word still an orphan,

and homeless

—GOODBYE

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

Our mistakes are paid

in generations of denial

Old footsteps defaulting,

new judgments on file

 

The future in debt

to invoices past

tomorrow debentured

—arrears mounting fast

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

No one lived more inside the moment,

No one left others more bent to his will,

No one remembered more for the things that he said,

No one more misunderstood while being so loved

—than Muhammad Ali

 

(Louisville Kentucky: July, 2020)