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)

Paved over deep,

 my thoughts below

 

Once brilliant shades

 of amber glow

 

The darkest light,

 I now befriend

 

Whose darkest thoughts,

 I sought to end

 

While further down,

 the chanting starts

 

No mockingbirds,

 no meadowlarks

 

Where stillness reigns,

 the present weeps

 

My ashes cool,

 my soul retreats

 

Lodged six feet under

 below the crowd

 

Though sleep eternal

  —no dreams allowed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)

A briefcase full of sorrow…

  the hiding place of tears

 

One trade to end all others

  excuse to lie and steal

 

The papers hide the story

 all documents in vain

 

As grief belies the glory

 —of a life that deals in pain

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)

I lie down in the shadows

 where no one can reach me

 

My seventh and last

 place to hide

 

The sixth was a funeral,

 the fifth when in hospice

 

The fourth was each time

 that I lied

 

The third was a promise

 I made to a girl

 

That she took

 to her own grave

 

The second a promise

 I made to myself

 

From a vision

 my Grandmother gave

 

The first was the darkness

  where I exited that world

 

On a day that was

 cold and bright

 

Now the process is finished,

 as I hide for the last time

 

In the shadows

 —and safe from the light

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2010)

Never asking for permission,

  always being sure

 

His head was held firmly,

  his mind had stayed pure

 

Never seeking your acknowledgement

  or umbrella against the rain

 

His words exploded thunder

  —truth pouring down again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)