It was the 3rd day of the battle,
and thousands lay dying or dead
Lining the edge of the smoke and chaos,
the roses and daisies were spread
The screams in the night were ungodly,
sounds of cannon fire ruling the day
With blue and grey bleeding side by side
—the flowers in joyous array
(Gettysburg Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
Do you synthesize your anger,
do you cauterize the burn
Do you anesthetize the wonder,
as your dreams are drugged and scorned
Is your judgment tempered badly,
with emotion fiery hot
Is your vision colored madly,
by your choices—sold and bought
Does your music play reclusive,
do your words fall off the page
Does your ego feed that last excuse
—a mask you can’t explain
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Are you hiding inside your writing,
making it impossible to see what you mean
Camouflaged words based on muddled intent,
to confound, confuse, or mislead
Is it cryptic or gibberish in nature,
your attempt to impress with your scheme
Are your words still unlived as you write them all down
—unpurposed and left unredeemed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
“Dying is a wild night
and a new road”
Then
Darkness is passion untamed
—on a highway to hell
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
What every man would like to say,
and every woman like to hear
What every moment would then embrace
—released to so endear
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
“Past moments segmented euphoric,
notebook in the back of my jeans”
It used to be a pocketed feeling,
today it’s the air that I breathe
They used to visit when I would invite them,
now they’re my shadow unseen
Blanketing my world with their lettered embrace,
to inspire, enthrall—and redeem
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
The incarnation of silence,
sound without tone
Words embody in the night
—crying to be known
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
If you live long enough…
those things you missed
will again return
No longer wrapped
in layers of disguise
But flying on spirit wings
the Archangels have endowed
Bequeathed
to the morning’s sunrise
—your exiting dawn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
The imagery of experience,
the magic of verse
Each word bought and paid for
—to bless or to curse
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: 1971)
‘With Jerry Jeff Walker At The Main Point’
You can’t argue or reason
your way
into transcendence
Sinking deeper
with each formula drawn
—and truism proclaimed
(Wayne Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
An Anthology Of Perception 