Walking around a

Mythical town

That doesn’t exist

Looking for what

I would never find

I trod those same streets

That I had been down

In my dreams before

The sky barren

Except for the sound

Of the exodus

Of wings

Hovering over people

All moving away

The backs of their heads

The only thing visible

As they marched off

Into the dark

With faces and eyes

Mortgaged…

 

    To pay for all the things

        that they would never do

 

    In debt to one last promise

        they will never keep

 

    The terms of their indecision

        written in the blood of repetition

 

     The movement of the hawk

         —another’s wind to blow

 

  (Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

Just before dawn…

  the answers came

 

And dressed in drag,

  they spoke my name

 

They claimed their place

  though none was offered

 

They stole a space,

  their masks on backwards

 

Just before dawn…

  the answers came

 

Stalking my query

  with falsehoods named

 

But in my wake,

  their lies would drown

 

The truth unanswered

   —new questions found

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

The distance between what you feel

 and what you write…

   —your measure as a Poet

 

The difference between what you think

 and how you act…

   —your measure as a Man

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

My pact with God transcends your fear

 and all professed religion

 

The faith I have, the joy I feel

 not subject to your laws

 

My relationship is one on one

 whose heart is freely given

 

To live inside his bounteous light

  —resplendent and in awe

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

      From ‘The Book Of Prayers’

 

 

The pathway to happiness is laughter

 —the gateway to laughter is children

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

To meet death head on,

You need but a song

  —to carry you on your way

 

The words needn’t matter

If the melody flatters

  —to be hummed by the people who stay

 

To meet death head on,

You need only one song

  —that your children may sing out of tune

 

Because the years they go fast,

Only memories last

  —as May gives up her flowers to June

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

There once was a time when women could cook,

  and men knew how to dance

 

Education was by the book,

  no fuzzy math or creative finance

 

Parents visited their own parent’s homes,

  as the grandchildren came along

 

And life was so much better then

  new words to every song

 

There once was a time when women could cook,

  and men knew how to dance

 

Hearts were pure as dogs roamed free,

  neighbors talked across the fence

 

Everyone shared those values true

  family mattering most of all

 

Because in the end, a community of friends

  —let you rise and then stand tall

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 Thank you for the poetry Lord,

  thank you for the verse

 

Thank you for the words that play

   and on my fields converse

 

Thank you for the feelings

  letting others join in song

 

But thank you most for reaching down

  —and guiding me along

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

     From ‘The Book Of Prayers’

Stop trying to be clever,

  and try to be smart

 

The coyote said

  to the fox

 

The hunters are coming,

  the bounty’s been offered

 

Their traps are all baited

  and boxed

 

Stop trying to be clever,

  and try to be smart

 

The coyote to the fox  

  said again

 

There’s a reason your fur

  is always in season

 

And mine, never coated

   —or skinned

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)  

         ‘For My Grandchildren’

Today I turned seventy,

 and the clocks all faintly chimed

 

My hour glass near empty

 to mark the waning time

 

Weeks left on the calendar

 the moments more than days

 

With laughter most important now

 each memory through the haze

 

Today I turned seventy,

 and my dog he seemed to know

 

He whispered to my grandchildren,

 and their love began to flow

 

Bright sunshine through the window,

 but night is sure to come

 

The joy and pain of who I’ve been

 —to live on when I’m gone

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)