Are you a Poet or tactician,
or “A Rose By Any Other Name…”
Are your words stained with patina,
some would scrub and some would blame
Is your Kingly verse too rough for some,
finding safety in their books
Is your verse uncut with edges sharp
—all Princes in their rooks
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Is death the price of truth…
“The light shining brightest
that shines at the end”
Is death the price of truth…
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
The voice of a Poet,
the breath of a Child
The curse of the Devil
—forever beguiled
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
I imagined myself rich,
I saw myself poor
From the suite to the stable,
my soul cried for more
The sweeter the temptation,
the more dour the gain
A kingdom for a poem
—my treasure renamed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
The tragedy of us
is that we couldn’t overcome
ourselves
To become who
we were meant to be
—sharing the greatest gift of all
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
The reality of who we were
destroyed what we were
—as the thresher kills the rose
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
That’s the way life is…
greatness wrapped in a tattered box,
lined with regret
compliments laced with a negative refrain,
hiding the truth
Fear and delight masquerading as one,
chanting behind the mask
—that’s the way life is
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
When you love someone,
you claim part of their spirit
Trading affection
—as the emptiness fills
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
Most of our lives are spent
icing the cake
Covering the substance
where meaning partakes
To coat and embellish
what we most try to hide
Distracting, misleading
—shrouded inside
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
I survived the 60’s,
can I ask the same of you…
With soul in tact, my body wracked,
and conscience split in two
My parents now have I become,
these days of future past
With bloodshot eyes and memory owned
—by that decade not to last
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
