In the beginning there were cold rocks with

painted animals that chose which way you’d run

toward or away from tomorrow’s undoing

in search of what the present can’t find

looking into the future with blind refusal

at the corner of time and space

taking back what forgiveness wouldn’t share

heating each rock until the images dance

—warming the night of a thousand dreams

—warming the night of a thousand dreams

 

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)

 

While hidden deep from nature’s wrath,

waiting in disguise

 

Below the ground a season born,

its birthright undenied

 

As winter trees now bare their souls,

whose limbs reach out in pain

 

Tomorrow the most promised wish

—till spring comes back again

 

(The New Room: February, 2021)

Told over and over,

the lie became true

 

As memory inverted,

the falsehood imbued

 

My cornerstone crumbling,

sticks piled with straw

 

A last self-deception

—the fantasy law

 

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: February, 2021)

If nothing can be done

—do nothing

 

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)

My Pen…

an extension

of my thoughts

and my prayers,

underlining

my feelings

for others

to share

 

The ink

is my history

its tracks

to begin,

a journey

connecting

what’s now

—until then

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2021)

“I’ve come to the very end of myself,”

the day cried out to the night

 

“My expiration date lined in blood,

tomorrow less than bright

 

“My beginning and ending dancing a last waltz,

destiny writing the score

 

“My wick has burned down, the music has stopped

—too late to ask for more”

 

(The New Room: February, 2021)

Death is a journey

that’s taken alone

Released from the tempus,

our spirits to roam

 

Death is a servant

indentured to slave

 

A Master beyond

—new Angels at play

 

(The Book Of Prayers: February, 2021)

Language has limits

when backed to the wall

 

Its truth self-defining

by sages et al.

 

Language deserts us

as meaning retreats

 

Its light self-diffusing

—when destiny speaks

 

(Villanova University: January, 2021)  

Freedom comes packaged

entrapped and confined

 

How big is your cage,

 to roam and define

 

Always constricted,

with borders that move

 

Its bars of detention

—forever reproved

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)

 

 

 

No one’s ever gone

until forgotten

 

Their memory etched

like words in stone

 

—canyons to remind

 

(Chama New Mexico: January, 2019)