Vacuous dreams

and stolen joy

 

Shadows at dawn,

lost girls and boys

 

Promises broken,

tears deprived

 

Light excepted

—truth denied

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

The thicker the spirit,

the thinner the bars

 

That tiger once captive,

now roaming afar

 

His eyes stalk the distance,

between hoping and fear

 

Preying deeply inside us

—eternally near

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

What is a poem,

be it long or then short

 

When in service to others,

to agree and consort

 

And be it objective,

to run with the pack

 

Its identity loosened,

its rope to go slack

 

What is a poem,

when written to please

 

Each word second-guessed,

each phrase to appease

 

The critic, the pundit,

the dilettante sure

 

Your blood for their letting

—your words but a score

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

 

To become what you look at,

to say what you know

 

Your eyes to retract,

your wisdom to grow

 

To live by a credo,

to die only once

 

Your soul to take flight

—your spirit to hunt

 

(Martha Browns Woods: March, 2021)

If

number

is the ruler

of form

 

Then

beauty

the true empress

of love

 

(To Pythagoras: March, 2021)

From the Kiowa to the Cree,

 people sing and dance

 

Prairies ringed with fire

—a ghost returns at last

 

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: September, 1994)

With lightest hand

and heavy heart

 

My pen runs dry,

bereft and stark

 

That never given,

I’m doomed to steal

 

The grandest theft

—my words conceal

 

(Stealing From Laura (Muse): March, 2021)

She made me more real than I could stand,

but choice was not an option

And reaching in deep she pulled tomorrow

out of yesterday’s regret

Leaving me to find a home for all the

wasted memories and time

Loving me only just enough

—to begin to start again

 

(Houserville Pennsylvania: December, 1971)

Wanting you,

knowing I couldn’t have you

I called the devil my friend

as he surrendered the key

The lock to your heart reopening,

the hourglass turned over

In the flames of December

—running back to you

 

(Houserville Pennsylvania: December, 1971)

I don’t limit who reads my verse,

only who I answer

 

Each word thick-skinned and armor-clad

all questions zero-sum

 

(To Nelson Riddle & Frank Sinatra: March, 2021)