Does infinity
come in sizes
Does forever
stop and start
Does totality beckon
then fall away
—dissolving into parts
Is gravity
a lost dimension
Is pure mathematics
number free
Is a concept real
if it’s never been thought
—undiscovered reverie
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Oh, to be good
at something I hate
Oh, to be bad
at something I love
To lose what I love
to gain what I hate
Ill tempered indifference
—lost grace from above
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
No matter how great the versing
writing always lacks the note
That music plants inside our souls
words by their nature rote
Its melody takes you skyward
all reason left behind
Pure joy out front to then surround
—what substitutes as mind
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Can time be discarded
by reading your work
Your wisdom a birthstone,
eternity’s mark
With experience salient,
thoughts never to age
A voice for all seasons
—the words of a sage
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
The nature of being,
its whole and its parts
The nature of being,
its fits and its starts
The nature of being,
the old and the new
The nature of being
—to me and to you
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
The word ‘ABOUT’
is like a ladder
From what is
to what may be
Each rung a step
in our perception
Climbing higher
—to be free
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Often it’s just sound,
searching for meaning
Until there’s a voice,
and words start releasing
Then it’s the story,
as language takes form
Together now one
—as ever before
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
We all believe in something,
some choose to call it God
Belief the common mantra,
we’re living in awe of
Be it physics, space, or prophecy,
a credence young or old
Many candles through the darkness burn
—with one light to behold
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
To whomever owns
the emptiness
I’ll take forty acres
if you please
With space and time
locked tightly out
Where nothing
—rules supreme
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Sharing space with myself
replaying ‘what if’
Symbiosis conjoins
the jazz in the riff
The progression regressive
separation be damned
My shadow imploding
—in a joyous ‘I Am’
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
