Nerve ending fuse
emotional dynamite
The spark of betrayal
—lit by a friend
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
Nerve ending fuse
emotional dynamite
The spark of betrayal
—lit by a friend
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
The harder I fight,
the stronger they wield
The sharper their knives
the thicker my shield
The louder their shouts
the deeper my scream
Reality theirs
—all time but a dream
The moment they chose,
my spirit was gone
Their words uninvited
dead verse to a song
That plays a reunion
a reckoning of sorts
Whose lyrics birth silent
—as curses abort
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
Purity weds corruption
a marriage unrhymed
An Angel having fallen
—damnation defined
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)
Between the lines
You read my story
The pain I felt
You washed in glory
New letters rose
The words reformed
As Angel’s marched
With time forlorn
On Satan’s grave
A vesper bell
Salvation rings
—all lies in hell
(Philadelphia Pennsylvania: June, 2014)
Hiding inside the written page,
reality slipped away
Buried inside a meaning deep,
its wolves were kept at bay
With feelings ablaze, all answers are torched
a bonfire at the gate
New questions enshrined, false promises burned
with ash to mark the way
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)
She followed me downward,
her lips were on fire
From the depths of her lake,
every wish she inspired
Water everywhere
lily pads on end
A frog left unkissed
the price of pretend
She looked at me sadly,
the bottom came soon
My arms reached out madly
to drown or to swoon
Her voice calling gently
my spirit renamed
As my soul she undressed
—inside her again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
The darker side of reflection
—cast in shadows
The darker side of shadows
—cast in hell
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
Damn the truth,
damn the lies
Damn the trap,
the choice belies
Damn the freedom,
damn the fate
Behind their masks
—transcendence waits
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
I used the language to my own end
never respecting rules or laws
I wrote what seemed the shortest path
between feelings and my thoughts
I thumbed my nose at sage advice
knowing what I wrote was true
The first cut then—the first cut now
the deepest through and through
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
Poetic editor
—literary oxymoron
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)