Poetry,
a reconciliation of opposites
—awakening the dream
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
Poetry,
a reconciliation of opposites
—awakening the dream
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
Discretions infinity,
its number unknown
One window sufficient
for its light to be shown
An exploding dynamic
tumbling over itself
A singular beauty
—in the distance unfelt
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
Will there ever come a time
when a moment doesn’t matter
Will there ever come a date
when the days won’t connect
Will there ever come a phrase
its words devoid of meaning
Will there ever come a song
whose melody won’t play
Have you let what you celebrate
turn into celebrity
Have your messages been transformed
into a billboard or sign
Have you become a lonely caricature
of a free and lasting symbol
Have your words become mere chatter
—in a pandering for fame
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Every book has a hundred messages
trying to get out
Every song has ten inside of it
waiting to sing loud
Every painting has a hidden image
fighting to be shown
And every poem has a secret voice
—dying to be known
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Was the ending
self-fulfilling
Hopes and wishes
by the score
Did you live to dream
or dream to live
Of a life
—that’s something more
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
The gravity of freedom,
the weight of space and time
Above the calculated noise,
the wisdom of the Mime
Truth reveals a vacuum,
where silence waits to live
As words describe what minds can’t see
—and imagery forgives
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
One letter that follows,
if added will deem
To separate the real
from what’s referenced or schemed
“Honor from honors,
Love from loves
“Truth from truth’s,
and Self from selves
“God from gods,
Time from times
“Vision from visions,
and Life from lives”
The singular, the plural
what is, what is not
One small trailing letter
—true meaning leaves off
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
A Lakota Sioux Elder
once prophetically said…
“We will be known forever
by the tracks we leave behind”
That wisdom now marking
a trail of tears
—any hope still yet to find
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
There are stages you run to,
and from stages to hide
The performance of a lifetime,
or the shame that will chide
There are actors in character,
and stand-ins on loan
One change in direction
—and all meaning has flown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Parents,
hover over their children
Adults,
smothering their young
Choices curtailed,
freedom spoon fed
Gallows
—for youth to be hung
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)