With chaos on my doorstep,

  reasoning befalls

 

With heartache as my calling card,
love though distant calls

 

All questions left unanswered,

  with time their holy grail

 

As seasons march to heavens step

  —my hope to then prevail

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)

If you can choose the battlefield

  —you can determine the outcome

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

Adrian Simpson in ‘Falling Into The Darkness’

A quarter of a million people

  read my poetry last year

 

Five hundred thousand eyes,

  five hundred thousand ears

 

I write every day with the

  humble knowledge of this

 

 To offer some solace,

   to be never remiss

 

They guide me much more

  than they ever will know

 

To help form the words

  that keep me in tow

 

I feel like I know them

  when I write late at night

 

As they call through the darkness

  —giving wings to my flight

 

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Some things are unknowable as they are,

  and need an alias to come true

 

Some people only known through someone else,

  and you must look hard to see through

 

Not in hiding, but contained within,

  symbiotic they exist

 

To live and die within something else

  —a thing most often missed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

Giving birth to new feelings,

  life to the unborn

 

Eternity swaddled,

  cradled and warm

 

A labored delivery,

  nibbed forceps demand

 

Prying out a new meaning

   —each stroke of the hand

 

(Plane To Las Vegas: July, 2016)

One day beyond mourning, a new sun to shine

 a promise remade—not a cloud in the sky

 

One day beyond mourning, your spirit still warm

your flesh now at rest—on the hill past the barn

 

One day beyond mourning, the bed sheets unfold

 your shadow uncovered—and now mine to hold

 

One day beyond mourning, the sun in my eyes

  new words in my heart—a mockingbird cries

 

One day beyond mourning, my soul free to roam

  your paintings surround me—among them I’m home

 

One day beyond mourning, I walk to the field

 our blanket still hanging—the oak that concealed

 

One day beyond mourning, I reset my sights

  the day I’ll rejoin you—that heavenly flight

 

One day beyond mourning, all will broken free

  my name on the wind—as you call out to me

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

Is there a truth

  too big to tell

 

Is there a lie

  too big for hell

 

Is there a choice

  that can’t be made

 

Is there a time
—that can’t be saved

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)

 

 

Where are you headed…
the waitress asked me at breakfast

Where have you been to…
I responded in kind

Never down to the Canyon,
though I’ve always meant to go there

I’m headed to the Canyon
—now go quit your job

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

When the world turns on a whisper
—why do we insist on shouting

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)

With each step that I take,

  words jostle and form

 

Inside me they cluster,

  deep down where it’s warm

 

At nighttime they visit,

  in moments of peace

 

Defining my feelings

  —extending my reach

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)