Laboring in obscurity,

years behind the mask

 

Wandering through the shadows,

questions poorly asked

 

Looking for one reason,

to leave the past behind

 

Echo’s howling endlessly

—prophecy reminds

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)

Victim of his own success…

the treadmill calls,

the hourglass broken

—casualty of what time denies

 

(The New Room: November, 2020)

In fear of your abandon,

afraid of letting go

 

Alone and feeling stranded,

bereft—no kindness shown

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)

Its history was written

in tragedy

 

The period to the last sentence

—was death

 

(The New Room: November, 2020)

Standing redundant

in an echoing wind,

renewing your vanity

with deference to all

 

At home on the fringes

where truth is an orphan,

you line up your enemies

canons shot at the wall

 

A general of

a malingering army,

whose entitled thinkers

lay truth in the grave

 

The devil is calling

his pulpit awaits you,

the olive branch hollow

—your memory enslaved

 

(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: November, 2020)

 

Knowledge is not a paradigm,

but a bridge to something else

 

Its path to stay unmeasured,

when crossing into self

 

Devoid of polar opposites,

where beauty exits truth

 

To steal away, a soul relayed

—its burden stripped of proof

 

(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: November, 2020)

How do we profess

what we can’t understand

 

The very nature of this

takes on certain demands

 

If it’s truly beyond

our ability to know

 

Something deeper is calling,

where thought cannot go

 

These walls that surround us,

this cave that we’re in

 

False images dance,

Plato’s fire burns thin

 

To truly cross over,

breaking free of its chains

 

We must turn our eyes inward

—to release and proclaim

 

(The Book Of Prayers: November, 2020)

Some would say,

the danger portends   

 

Some would say,

it all is pretend

 

Some would say,

the past wears a shroud

 

Some would say,

the quiet is loud

 

Some would say,

all love is for fools

 

Some would say,

to break every rule

 

Some would say,

today is unsure

 

Some would say,

tomorrow the cure

 

Some would say,

the hammer is cocked

 

Some would say,

the target is locked

 

Some would say,

the reasons persist

 

Some would say,

all logic resists

 

Some would say,

the lies are astute

 

Some would say,

more voices to mute

 

Some would say,

the weight is too much

 

Some would say,

to look but don’t touch

 

Some would say,

their talk cheap and vile

 

Some would say

—death kills with a smile

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)

Raising thoughts and emotion,

the mainsail was set

 

Heading into the wind

of tomorrow unmet

 

All stays are in place,

with tiller held fast

 

Reaching for glory

—the doldrums have passed

 

(Hereford Inlet: November, 2020)

Politics governs our

temporal lives

 

Religion conscripting

eternity’s prize

 

Together they’ve killed

more than famine and war

 

A plague that still haunts us

—to shun and deplore

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)