Conduit of the human spirit

I forced hope into the cord

Draining the tears of

The lost and abandoned

Plugging into outlets

Of forgotten promise

Forcing their light

Onto the dark barren screen

Charging into what

I had charged over before

  —crossing the line

  —crossing the line

 

(Villanova Post Office: January, 2015)

 

Becoming irrelevant

  at last to yourself

 

The choices have narrowed

   the joy seldom felt

 

The present redundant

  what’s left in the end

 

The fodder of memory

  —and you to pretend

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2015)

If language a bullet,

  the pen is my gun

 

Its wound self inflicted,

  the verse zero-sum

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2015)

 

Written in the moment

   placed into time

 

The instant exploding

  —forever to rhyme

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2014)

Are you obligated

To retain

The verses you write,

Or do you systematically

Release

What no longer can survive

Unnamed,

As they mark the trail

Of their exit

With letters penned in

Judgment

That you no longer own,

Memory forming

An ancient speech pattern

Waiting silent and distant

For new words to create

An even newer anonymity

  —where truth may be found

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2014)

 

Those thoughts not adopted

  and orphaned alone

 

To never have surnames

  —all bastards enthroned

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December 24, 2014)

 

 

What I knew before birth

 I will know after death

 

This slight pause called life

  —where the soul takes a breath

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)

 

The evolution of

Time

More art

Than science

Its measure and

Validation

Astounding mankind

From the very first day

If such a thing

Even exists

It is only in the abstract

  —neither visceral nor sublime

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2014)

My thoughts are my weapons,

  my pen is my sword

 

My will is my whetstone,

  my Knighthood

    —my Lord

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2014)

In the shoals of the lake

  a deeper truth was buried

 

It waded ashore

  when your memory was parched

 

Irrigating a message

  long ago forgotten

 

Returning your forgiveness

  —washed free of blame

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2014)