That unshared secret…

a crawlspace of denial

where shadows keep your heart at bay,

lonely all the while

 

To hide in darkened corners,

as falsehood lends its smile

your mind left cramped—all virtue tramped,

banished and exiled

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

I ran over

the edge of uncertainty

 

To convince you

of what I didn’t know

 

Falling into the abyss

of deception

 

Where the pretenders

and charlatans go

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

Physician heal thy body…

virtue heal thy soul

 

Wounds profane—blood reclaimed,

whose sutured truth is told

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

Yes or no,

right or wrong,

their truth so far apart

 

Opinion

versus stated fact,

polarized and stark

 

To give

or sway conjecture,

in light of what is known

 

Weakness

in consensus lost

— black and white has shown

 

(Philadelphia Ethical Society: September, 2020)

A painting will never love you back,

like a woman or a child

 

An opera may cause your heart to sing,

then leave you twice beguiled

 

Platonic zeal may fill the hours,

a pleasant interlude

 

But requited love will change your life

—and end your solitude

 

(Haverford Pennsylvania: September, 2020)

Is knowledge just the memory

of what has gone before

Our current thoughts a window dress,

in search of something more

 

Are ideas in our DNA,

and cellular as such

Feelings lost within those thoughts,

wading through the dust

 

Is our soul but then a footnote

to a novel other writ

Our searching doomed to wander back

—beyond the starts and fits

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2020)

Without exception, throughout all time,

governments devolve

 

Aristocracy, the Philosopher King,

benign in his resolve

 

Timocracy, the city state,

landed and secure

 

The Oligarch, his army placed,

to rule in peace and war

 

Democracy, each voice to shout,

as chaos takes the reins

 

When Tyranny must force its hand

—as socialists have deigned

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2020)

 

 

‘You’ll never step into the same river twice,’

the future now the past

 

Motion the only constancy,

beyond all time to last

 

You will never see the mountain,

by staring in its face

 

Perspective shorn and vision torn,

its image out of place

 

You’ll never look into your soul,

while outside glancing in

 

Its essence what you’re running from

—whose gateway leads to Him

 

(The Book Of Prayers: September, 2020)

What was,

became you

 

What will be,

becomes you

 

What could be,

belies you

 

What is

—befalls

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

I said yes,

you disagreed…

no longer to be friends

 

 P.C. culture,

zero-sum,

misleading to the end

 

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: September, 2020)