The Prodigal Muse

Trapped in the meter

a prisoner of rhyme

My spirit indicted

a felon of time

A minstrel’s disciple

epistle in hand

The sound and the rhythm

my soul’s contraband

New couplets my jailer

their sentences cursed

The key to their freedom

locked deep in the verse

And serving in silence

chalk marks on the wall

I listen intently

for one voice to call

Awaiting its pardon

this exile to end

My words liberated

— to forever ascend

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Freeing The Kobold

Escaping the prose …

I hid in the verse

My mind to compose

instead of converse

 

Defying description

I sang through the notes

And placed my inscriptions

in lyrical rote

 

I chose to hear music

over reasons again

To dine with the mystics

where forever begins

 

But when forcing my pen

back to stories untold

The Muse through the darkness

— sets free the kobold

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

El Gran Canon

She is not

lonely

But makes all

who smile upon her

— lonely indeed

 

She is not

mournful

But makes all

who implore her

— cry like a child

 

She is not

boastful

But makes all

who look upon her

— beat on their chests

 

She is not

faithful

But makes all

who desire her

— pledge from the heart

 

She is not

vengeful

But to ever

betray her

— the gravest of sins

 

She is not

quiet

But from the depths

of her emptiness

— silence is born

 

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)