Losers dwell

in misery’s past

Winners reach

for tomorrow recast

Cowardice hides

from every new dawn

Where freedom awaits

— the brave and the strong

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)

Are you qualified

to comment

Are you predisposed

to care

Can your envy

make it better

When you rip

and then you tear

 

Sleeping

with the devil

The critic

stirs his pot

Trying to recook

the stew

With all the things

— he’s not

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)

 

Blues Poem #3

 

Living hard

the writing comes easy

 

Living easy

— the writing comes hard

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

 

 

 

The Greatest Harp

 

My pen is like a blues riff

not always on the note

I bend within the moment

new feelings reach for hope

A eulogy remastered

the fire that he fed

His Mojo dancing with the Muse

Marine Band his to wed

My words to stretch and vibrate

a blind man his to read

They move in tribute off the page

Sonny’s orphaned reeds

My hand they cease to follow

as letters wail and slide

While deep in South Chicago

— a harp long dead survives

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

‘Tribute To Sonny Boy Williamson 1’

Deep

inside

my pocket

 

Where

orphaned thoughts

call home

 

I find

a voice

abandoned

 

Disheartened

and

alone

 

I take it

in my

fingers

 

To warm

within

my hand

 

A treasured

find

when free reminds

 

Just who

and what

I am

 

“We trip

the light

fantastic”

 

Much better

than

before

 

Reclaiming

what

the darkness stole

 

And

hid away

— abjured

 

(Inspired By Milton’s L’Allegro: October, 2025)

 

“Come, and trip it as ye go

On the light fantastic toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee,

The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty;”

 

 

If you’re not willing to fight the fire

— you’re entitled to the flames

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Turning images

into words

 

Feelings

into fact

 

(and)

 

Passion

— into love

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

 

Reckless

when imbibing

He lost his right

to drive

 

For those infractions

time proscribed

A Poets

D.U.I.

 

He far

exceeded limits

His influences

blamed

 

Now doomed to ride

as passenger

In literary

— shame

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

 

 

 

The fine line

between

charisma

and narcissism

Defines the border

separating

 magic

— from farce

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

I stare in the mirror

the devil stares back

Laughing and sneering

his taunting attack

 

“I bought you, I own you

now run, try to hide

Your soul has been mortgaged

your spirit is mine”

 

I run to the yard

and come back with a brick

At the silvery glass

I throw and then kick

 

The pieces all splatter

and smash on the floor

As a roar can be heard

from the rafters and more

 

A fire has started

the attic ablaze

With bats in the air

the demon is raised

 

I reach in my shirt

for the cross round my neck

For my Grandmother’s promise

to preserve and protect …

 

And the heat that it carries

burns bright in my hand

As I point it aloft

at the horns and demand …

 

“A Rosary upon you

return to your cave

My faith is restored

— my sins he forgave”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

Old men

see death

more clearly

 

When young

all life

is blind

 

The magic in

that voice

who calls

 

In

salutary

rhyme

 

Old men

embrace

the knocking

 

That

signifies

the end

 

Their souls

intact

for travel

 

Their

legacy

befriends

 

That road

beyond

tomorrow

Where

posterity

inures

 

Awaits

the man

who braved the storm

 

And leaves

this world

— secure

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)