Do you hide

with complexity

what’s missing

inside

 

Are the words

that you choose

to impress

or belie

 

Those flowery

fragments

of what

you can’t feel

 

All die

on the vine

in a poseur’s

— reveal

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)

 

I’ve left it on rock ledges

elevators and bars

Taxicabs, backpacks

and motorcycles far

 

It sat on the Great Wall

as I walked away

And fell out of the raft

in Wyoming that day

 

It flew on the airplane

after I’d gotten off

Spending two days in Key West

 Fedex as the cost

 

It’s kept me in touch

that’s important I know

But the voice it records into words

— much more so

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

My Cell Phone Voice Recorder

Each vein

is a memory

Each wrinkle

attests

Her bones

dry and brittle

Her grip

still arrests

 

Each day

brings a promise

Each night

a regret

Her will

is sustaining

Her heart

is at rest

 

She speaks

in a voice

that is shrill

out of tune

While losing

her wits

often

long before noon

 

But when

that itinerant

coyote

calls

She looks

down

at her hands

— and remembers it all

 

(Cody Senior Center: November, 2025)

It’s two hours before dawn

and I’ve slept through the night

The rarest occurrence

 her footsteps come light

 

She let me sleep soundly

and she let me dream free

Before entering my bedroom

and calling to me

 

“Kurt, it’s Laura, she whispered

as she got into bed

Are you happy in the solitude

alone in your head

 

“Your spirit’s been truant

but its voice I recalled

Wake up from your sleep

 follow me down the hall

 

“I’ve something to show you

so rub out your eyes

And see what you looked like

as a boy about five”

 

She led me straight down

to the end of the hall

The door was half open

and my voice I heard call

 

“Aunt Laura, my crayons

have broken again

Aunt Laura, I need

some new words to begin

 

“The ones that you left me

I now know by heart

And to Mother and Father

I recited each part”

 

The boy smiled at her

and she smiled back at him

Before walking me back down

to my room deep within

 

“I’ve always been with you

and love you My Dear

As your Muse I’ve been charged

with your care all these years

 

“You were young when I met you

and took you by hand

Then to never abandon

your voice as a man

 

“Your days may come easy

and your days may come hard

But each night I’ll return

— with new words from afar”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

She wrote into my dreams

the first line of a nightmare

And I can no longer sleep

in fear of the next line

 

She ran away with all hope

that one line to haunt me

Each new second an hour

— in this prison called time

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

Poets

don’t create

a thing

But

recreate

what is

 

Ordering

their

size and shape

In lines

bespoken

his

 

Poets

take what life

gives out

Then

changing

mass and form

 

In words

not used

their way before

With

feelings

— newly born

 

(Villanova University: November, 2025)

Just one change

and everything’s different

In reference

the dominoes fall

 

If the speed of light

were two miles an hour

Would Summer

 ever cycle to Fall

 

If light rays travel

in search of a lens

At a speed

even turtles could pass

 

At three miles an hour

I’d focus on memory

Walking backward

— into the past

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)

Did you build that open portal …

one to leave upon

One that takes you back inside

one that plays your songs

 

Will your exit be an entry

to that place that waits within

Will tomorrow be the past in drag

— as you shed that final skin

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

My generation

is unfixable

The young

still hold the key

Unsullied by the

vested norm

They look

but also see

 

They hear those

inner voices

Not yet despoiled

and dark

Believing that:

“Oh Yes We Can”

As seniors

— bray and bark

 

(Radnor High School: November, 2025)

 

 A Martyred Plea

 

That voice in the distance

the one that’s been scarred

 

A whisper screams loudest

— when heard from afar

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)

 

 

Adrift

 

If you can’t find

the right harbor

At least

— find the right wind

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2028)

 

 

Till Mariah Calls

 

Life

the aberration

Death

what’s affirmed

Alive

for a moment

Till dust

— we return

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)