Going from the past to the future

Is a theoretical abstract

There’s no timeless reason we can’t go

From the future to the past

Our perception trapped in entropy

Keeps the order one direction

Our search for meaning stacked upon

—a theory not to last

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

Is the Poetry in the thinking

or the writing

 

Is the message in the reading

or the hearing

 

Is the feeling trapped between

what’s spoken and the silence

 

Is the spirit released as answers flee

—from questions yet to ask

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

 

Age now walks beside me,

a reminder of the past

 

Not a shadow or a mirror,

but a debt come due at last

 

Each step it locks in cadence,

my denial zero sum

 

A reckoning before me

—and nowhere left to run

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June 20, 2019)

Screams to their naked advancement,

fire—the truth to resound

 

Cannon to their darkest intention,

death—to all enemies found

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

As a Poet I’ve been everywhere,

  while living in the void

 

As a Poet I’ve written about time,

  while living outside its deception

 

As a Poet I’ve watched your hopes and dreams,

fade into dark memory

 

As a Poet I’ve searched and waited

—for what tomorrow never brings

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

Love freely given,

no heart denied

 

A soul on fire

—the heavens cry

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

To be forgotten

—you first have to be remembered

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)

 

First I write the story,

  then I write the book

 

Related but still different

—not to be mistook

 

First I write the story,

then I write the book

 

The first is in the telling

—the second in the look

 

(Barnes & Noble, Kansas City: June, 2016)

When I was starving,

poetry fed me

 

When I was sick,

the verse made me well

 

When I was homeless,

words gave me shelter

 

When I was lost

—the voice led me home

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

I abhor weakness

in all of its forms

 

My words gaining strength

through many a storm

 

Whether sleet in my face

or rudderless keel

 

This pledge I do anchor

—refusing to kneel

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)