“We appreciate that cousin”

 said the Rebel to the Yank

 

As all glory left the battlefield

 where rows of corpses stank

 

“We appreciate that cousin”

  as the bullets set to fly

 

“But our family’s set upon itself

   —and one of us must die”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)

 

Is anyone ever a total fraud

  or totally sincere

 

Is anyone committed beyond mere space

  to a notion fond and dear

 

Is anyone ever one hundred percent

  with subtraction the rule of the day

 

Is anyone better than what they believe

  or worse than a mother can pray

 

Is anyone ever truly in charge

  of that moment that slips through the hand

 

Is anyone willing to dance beyond hope

  to a melody lost by the band

 

Is anyone chosen from those who are not

  or entitled to what can’t be earned

 

Is anyone welcomed straight into the light

   —on a path where all others have turned

 

(Airplane-Las Vegas To Philadelphia: January, 2016)

Writing words of forgiveness,

  a bridge from the grave

 

My ashes unscatter,

  my memories reclaim

 

A verse of atonement,

  all steps unto thee

 

Whose vision, my journey

  —from death set me free

 

(To Mark Phanco-Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)

Persuader inside me

  dark sweetness cajoling

 

A talisman dangles

 —the present foretold

 

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2016)

 

Within the tragedy of a broken dream

   rages a fiery lost inferno

 

Where we burn in fearful anticipation

  —waiting for the alarm to sound

 

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2016)

 

The truth came flying out of the mirror,

  its reflection veracious and new

 

And left without warning, my emptiness torn,

  heading back to a place out of view

 

Driving into my eyes an image so clear,

  its talon’s spread open and honed

 

But on wings of silver, it returned fulfilled,

  my spirit soaring—free and atoned

 

(Southwest Flight Las Vegas-Philadelphia: January 27, 2016)

The Poet of Las Vegas Boulevard

  steals emotion from the night

 

Holding a vigil in the darkness

  waiting for the light

 

The Poet of Las Vegas Boulevard

  among the screams and homeless cries

 

Making rhyme of what we’ve long abandoned

   —marking time inside a shadows lie

 

(Las Vegas Boulevard: January 24, 2016)

Poetic dyslexia,

  the words juxtapose

 

The meaning in crisis,

  where God only knows

 

Poetic dyslexia,

  all feelings collide

 

Emotions in conflict

  —a verbal divide

 

(Forum Shops-Caesars Palace: January 23, 2016)

Good and bad are truisms…

  a qualitative masquerade

 

Ideology trumping feeling

  —in flashes of joy and pain

 

(Las Vegas: January 23, 2016)

You either bend and adapt,

 or then you break

 

The crux in the motion

 —your magic to make

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)