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)  

From whom was your legacy born,

  and where does your destiny lie

 

A voice calling out from the storm

   —a place where the words never die

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Living an eternity

  with each given day

 

The calendar a slave

  to the present foray

 

This moment at hand

  the only time you’re ordained

 

Exploding at once

  —over and over again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Do You Bore Yourself?

 

Do you rent the space

you’re standing in,

owning nothing in the end

but default?

 

Do you recycle words

until their utterance fails,

mistrusting your ability

to say what’s right?

 

Do you hedge your bets,

never going all in

for fear of losing the very thing

you haven’t got?

 

Do you count the days,

as tedium destroys spontaneity

and all energy drains

from your lifeless form?

 

Do You Bore Yourself?

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

 

Repelled by tradition

  and past status-quo

 

I enter the jungle

  where hides the unknown

 

Rejecting excuses

  and all that’s passé

 

My bow is drawn tightly

  —with fear now my prey

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)