The daylight hid from the nighttime
like a rabbit from the fox
As the sun ran through my memory
freeing moments that were locked
With twilight came a foretelling
and its darkness swearing true
But a light still burns inside me
—from a promise left to brew
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
I traveled from Essex
to the kingdom of Wales
in search of a family tree
And passing a cobbler
I then was reminded
what these shoes really mean to me
I’ve walked and I’ve walked
and I’ve searched and I’ve searched,
for a name more than mine on loan
And through leather worn thin
these sparse clothes that I’m in
will walk to China in search of my own
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
I knew you were coming,
as I walked across the cell
still in chains
I knew you were crying,
as the guard called out three times
announcing your name
Your silence was deafening,
as my final meal
was delivered at last
The time intensifying,
the markings on the wall
—killing the past
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Once a Catholic…
always a Catholic
Once a Priest…
forever a Priest
Once a Poet…
always a Poet
Once a Man…
—forever a Man
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
In the end
we’re all mortal
In the end
we all die
The end
but a portal
Through which
—we must fly
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
Creating the future
by killing the past
Techno Gomorrah
—where nothing can last
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
Speaking to not one
but the multitudes,
the prophet bowed his head
And blessed within his servitude,
the poor and hungry
were given bread
Starting again
his eyes looked up,
and through a plain white cloth he bled
While standing in the place
his father had,
and repeating those words he said…
“Don’t worship me,
Redeem yourself,
Divinity, yours at hand
“Wash their feet,
And free your mind,
Bring peace throughout the land
“Thank not one,
But all you meet
For a soul no longer wracked
“And with each new breath
The Angels dance
—salvation looking back”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
I sat on the rocks
By the New Bedford docks
And waited for his boat to return
But the sun went to hiding
Bringing ever bad tidings
And a sea where last lessons are learned
My time spent in vain
For not even a plane
Could find a boat headed out of that storm
As the sea roiled upward
My hopes were dragged under
Which my soul was to curse and then scorn
And the streets emptied out
Churches packed and devout
As the old ones did swear and rebuke
The women all cried
With new legends reprised
As the Parson read words in tribute
Till at the church by the dock
From whence he had left
From its window I yelled through the tears…
“Look to the harbor this night,
the mourning over, I sight:
—My Daddy’s Gaff Schooner is here”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
The Doggie was white,
and the Kitty was black,
as they crouched at each end of the floor
Their eyes never met,
because the rules were set,
that the dog would chase the cat as before
At night came the darkness,
and the Kitty stood up
and headed right straight to the door
But the Doggie just lay there with his head
on his paws, and thought:
“Tonight—is quite different for sure”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
‘For Kiley, Hunter, Braden & Parker
My Grandchildren
There’s a voice deep inside me
still trying to get out
Ignoring my pleadings,
it screams and it shouts
Its call is the loudest
on those darkest of nights
When my mind seeks new refuge
from Seraph’s delight
I toss and I turn,
but it speaks louder still
As its words start to age
from new vision distilled
No barter or denial
will turn back its call
The Muse is on fire
—my pen not to stall
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
