I look at the money,

  asking—what’s it all mean

 

From the toys to the honey,

  and the years in between

 

I look at the statements,

  as my love takes a bow

 

Thanking God my abatement,

  although late—came about

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Unchained from the structure,

  enslaved by the words

 

My voice to the wind

  —freeing silence unheard

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Without religion,

  where would we hide

 

What would be our reason,

  could souls justify

 

What would excuse the killing,

  cleaning deaths stain away

 

What would forgive tomorrow,

  for the sins of today

 

Without preaching dogmatic,

  what weight to our words

 

While unbaptized inside us

  —awaits the true Lord

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Have our brains developed

  because of our minds

 

Is it thought over matter,

  free will to consign

 

Who gave us this power,

  to till and to sow

 

All fruit thus comprised,

  in our memory to know

 

A physicists nightmare,

  their theories contrive

 

This question much bigger

  than their formulas chide

 

Darwin’s evolution,

  not passive but active

 

As change does occur,

  whose affect we hold captive

 

Those traits we develop,

   from forces unconscious

 

A pot that we stir,

   as we ladle our promise

 

To wonder and hope,

  to dream and to wish

 

Only human confined,

   in our souls to subsist

 

These edicts we know,

  from our spirits sublime

 

Our destinies chosen

  —and fated divine

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

May words be courageous,

  with thoughts on fire

 

This pen as my shield,

  to smite the ire

 

The darker the cave,

  bigger demons to hide

 

With truth as my torch

  —casting darkness aside

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)

Never become a footnote

  —to a history lost and gone

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)

Professional Poet…

  to cringe at the term

 

A lonely consensus,

  so much to learn

 

Days writing couplets,

  nights dreamed in verse

 

Feelings when gifted,

  mine to rehearse

 

Professional Poet…

  to run but not hide

 

Resisting the accolades,

   cousin of lies

 

The Muse calls my marker,

  chits payout in thought

 

Each line spoken freely

  —no longer store bought

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

I see the world in shades of gray,

  where has the color gone

 

My faith erodes with each new day,

  a weakness growing strong

 

I sense a feeling deep within,

  it spreads and reaches near

 

And tighten my coat against the wind,

  a buttress to this fear

 

I hear your voice, its inflection slight,

  the message still reveals

 

And reach for you in the waning light,

  under cover that conceals

 

No longer blue, or green, or white,

  prism distant and askew

 

Calling once more in the cold dark night

  —alone, in search of you

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

The more I think I really know,

  the less I understand

 

The further out to sea I drift,

  the more I miss the land

 

The stormier the days repeat,

  my soul to chase the sun

 

The rules I once thought hard and fast,

  denounced and on the run

 

The more I think, the less I feel,

   my spirit inexcused

 

The hours spent off from myself,

  those times I stay confused

 

As days drift into sleepless nights,

   the moon to haunt my dreams

 

Where wishes live to hope again

  —if I can just believe

 

(Villanova University: June, 2019)

 

 

 

 

 

Half the time…

  you don’t know where you’re going

     —even when you’re there

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)