“To sound

like bacon smells”

Bonnie said to me

in jest

In the Spring

of 1970

At Penn State’s

— Colloquy Fest

 

(Bonnie Raitt & Son House: Spring 1970)

In fated inclemency

leading the charge

each push

deeper into the fray

 

The sound of the bugle

the call of the wild

where death lies afloat

in the quay

Each choice made to question

each vow pledged in blood

with very few

seeing the dawn

 

But onward we push

the bold and the meek

with our swords

and our bayonets drawn

 

The enemy fronted

all cannons in tow

the smoke makes things

harder to gauge

 

As destiny waits

on top of the hill

and the battle

continues to rage

 

One time looking back

the bodies lay piled

like toy soldiers

once toppled and strewn

 

Afoot in the madness

alone in the dark

my horse lying dead

— in the dew

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

 

The greatest pleasure

the absence of pain

The greatest freedom

relinquishing gain

The greatest message

the one from inside

The greatest secret

the hardest to hide

 

A dollar given

 a blessing earned

A lesson taught

 a lesson learned

A truth in waiting

 a lie untold

A promise whispered

 a pledge on hold  

 

When voices call

the doubtful pander

When questions breed

they’re left unanswered

When lost in space

there’s room for motion

When Venus reigns

new love’s devotion

 

Written in code

the warning’s hidden

Freeing the words

— tomorrow given

 

(The New Room: December, 2025)

 

Looking back

the past in chains

Looking ahead

untethered

 

Looking back

the timeline cast

Looking ahead

forever

 

Looking back

the world is fixed

Looking ahead

entropic

 

Looking back

a dead man’s song

Looking ahead

— anthropic

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

Letting go of

my righteousness

to the left

of my conscience

Hearing a music

that I love

in liberal sanctums

that I scorn

 

Escaping

the polarity

and fences of

my persuasion

I add my voice

to Heaven’s chorus

singing above

— division’s chord

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

Some men are dogs

all of the time

 

All men are dogs

some of the time

 

Some men are dogs

some of the time

 

— all men are dogs

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

The Towel Bar Angel

would thus advise …

 

“Be careful of washing

in what you despise

 

“A tap awaits you

at every turn

 

“To leave you drowning

the moment spurned”

 

The Towel Bar Angel

to hang and wait …

 

And dry all bias

that drips with hate

 

Protect your words

from speech that mars

 

And stay fresh bathed

— in who you are

 

(The New Room: December, 2025)

Footsteps To Tomorrow

 

You don’t know where

you’re going

If you don’t know

— where you’ve been

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

 

Defanging The Devil

 

For all evils

there are two

remedies

— vehemence and time

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

 

Catch 22

 

The professional politician

where statesmen learn to lie

 

The professional politician

— where freedom goes to die

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

 

 

Elder abuse endemic

free to roam the land

Preying on the weakest souls

willing by command

 

Targeting new victims

infirm and oft alone

Fangs sink deep while senior’s sleep

— tearing flesh from bone

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)

When and what

and how I write

gestating

from inside

 

No template

and no syllabus

or digest

to prescribe

 

My Mind

protects a virgin

whose children   

yet unsired

 

Each word I breathe

instills the seed

to birth

— my heart’s desire

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)