Compression ingestion

The world to implode

The numbers decreasing

  —resistance explodes

 

From diamond to carbon

Wheels spin in reverse

The groundhog, the treadmill

  —millennium’s curse

 

(Brooklyn, New York: March, 2016)

Do you live your whole life

  in a half empty space

 

Do you swear up and down

  your excuses defaced

 

Do you sing in a choir

  where the music has died

 

Do you brand all as liars

  as your tongue remains tied

 

Do you rob from the master

  just to steal from the slave

 

Do you hide in a mansion

  built on top of your grave

 

Do you look for direction

  trails barren and thin

 

Does your soul beg correction

  torn away from within

 

Do you begin every sentence

  tracing back to the past

 

Do you waste precious moments

   —writing checks you can’t cash

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)

 

Are you the hero

  in your recurring dream

 

Or the victim

  of a life undone

 

Are you the ambassador

  for all you esteem

 

Or a fugitive

  —a soul on the run

 

Are you a real friend

  beyond trial and strife

 

Whose allegiance

  now stalwart defends

 

Are you the true master

  of all your desires

 

Or the ghost

  —of what sleep can’t befriend

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

 

Folding in to convention,

Sealed in creases of acceptance,

Maligned and misled

By the false promises

Of a stolen heart,

We chase the white whale

Of validation

Into waters of denial…

  ‘Fury—the rallying cry

   of our vengeful spirit

   Hate—the jilted lover

   of our fated selves’

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)  

 

 

Too close to the flame…

   too far from the light

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

The power of the written word…

  the spoken word supreme

 

Ink to recommission,

  what only breath can glean

 

Soldiers line up back to back,

  letters ranked and filed

 

The command to march just given once

   —its war chant loud and wild

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  today is enhanced

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  my mind and heart dance

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  my place is affirmed

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  my name is confirmed

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  the future reeled in

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  new moments begin

 

Writing for tomorrow,

  old crucibles filled

 

Writing for tomorrow

  —the present instilled

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Making love to the words,

  our tryst lasted till dawn

 

The sun now a blanket,

  covered verses to warm

 

Making love to the words,

  all new phrases to sleep

 

Resting fertile and silent

  —until daylight retreats

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

 

 

The mother lode of nighttime verse,

   arriving late

    —by Satan cursed

 

The dreamer wakes, all sleep forgoes,

   old words unbirthed

    —in shadows grow

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)  

 Are you judging from halls

  academic

 

Or from places where words

  cannot hide

 

Are your hours immersed in

  false reference

 

Or in a visceral pursuit

  that defies

 

All bias and excuse

  living tethered

 

In an ivy walled mansion

  enthroned

 

While beauty and truth

  run together

 

Through open fields

   —that no pundit has grown

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)