Humanity is destined

for being at war

 

Attacking tomorrow,

its fate still unsure

 

New conflict resharpens

the dullest of blades

 

Where written in blood

—new history is made

 

(Valley Forge: November, 2020)

Live your days with purpose,

and death walks by your side

 

To constantly remind,

what time will not abide

 

Your choice on how to handle,

ignore or then befriend

 

That last step left untaken

—where life begins again

 

(Bryce Canyon: August, 2019)

Humble

before the sea

 

Steady

within the gale

 

Intrepid

among the waves

 

Thankful

—as tides return

 

(Christmas Tree Island:  May, 1991)

Changing the future—changing the past,

a north south reprimand

 

 

Each word rewritten—time bespoke,

the present close at hand

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)

Many nights there were no new dreams,

so I borrowed from the old

 

Resurrecting the scaffolding

of what lay unbuilt—untold

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)

The largest rock I stand upon

is anonymity

 

Lodged within the silence

of myself

 

Calling from those distant lands

in names left blank and mute

 

Insuring my obscurity

—unknown but deeper felt

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)

Morons and liars,

all facts to mislead

 

Their wool to disguise

—the truth unperceived  

 

(The Mainstream Media: November, 2020)

Welcome loneliness my old friend,

to mark the hours emptiness sends

 

In the middle of the cold and dark,

the vanishing call of a last meadowlark

 

leaving me stranded,

deep in the well

 

Counting the minutes where time has conspired,

lusting for something whose clock has expired

 

This silence a chorus of Angels on mute,

promising nothing, all vows to refute

 

left and abandoned

—deserted in hell

 

 (Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)

We make our beds and lie in them

—whether we sleep or not

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)

Is there truth without belief,

 facts left on their own

 

Disconnected from themselves,

answers poorly shown

 

Can dogma live in vacuums,

when empty of itself

 

Will formulaic reasoned minds

—conscript what goes unfelt

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)