I had
all the wealth
And I had
all the fame
I had all
the glamour
One life
could contain
I had
all the friends
And I had
all the foes
That now sit
as equals
On the end
of my nose
I had
all these things
But one message
rings true
To have
and to hold
Is but folly
— adieu
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
The older
I get
the simpler
it seems
Each day
growing freer
divorced from
my dreams
Each year
brings the seasons
of Summer
through Spring
And months
in transition
new changes
they bring
The answers
I chased for
those questions
I asked
Rest quietly
dormant
in the future
and past
As time
now a mistress
no longer
a wife
My world’s
come full circle
in this magic
— called life
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
The loss of
each simple
thing
hurting the most
When drama
subsides
and time slows
to its worst
Your shadow
still living
inside of my
pain
To darken each
heartache
again
— and again
(The New Room: May, 2025)
Sebastian
couldn’t live
without saving
the walls
His paint
covering over
dire messages
scrawled
All passersby
witnessed
each canvas
restored
Reframing
dark alleys
with hope
evermore
Sebastian
a warrior
of brush
and stroke fame
Graffiti
a pockmark
his quest
to disclaim
Alone
in his wander
where shadows
hold court
Each wall of new
slander
his palette
— retorts
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
What stays
unwritten
silence claims
forever
— to remain unchanged
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
Not so much
a lie
with little
truth to tell
Not so much
goodbye
with greetings
gone to hell
Not so much
romance
with feelings
dead or pawned
Not so much
to dream
with sleep
— bereft and gone
(Bryn Mawr College: May, 2025)
When verses
run dry
do you hide
in despair
When the Muse
is on fire
only ashes
you’ll bear
With silence
embedded
on each
empty page
Your fear
is the foundling
that kindles
— the rage
(Ronald McDonald House: May, 2025)
Trimming fat
off his soul
he searched
for the bone
With every
new slicing
his consciousness
honed
All waste in
the fire
to sizzle
and fry
Excesses
like smoke
rise forgotten
— incised
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
Tall grass above
a sleeping dream
Hiding what
His promise deems
Embedded deep
within the blades
New whispers seed
as life conclaves
The sun to mirror
God’s new day
Each ray He grants
new hope in play
That rises softly
through night’s travail
An open petal
— as Grace prevails
(1st Book Of Prayers: May, 2025)
First
Last
(and)
Always
— say something
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
An Anthology Of Perception 