Bad prose masquerading as poetry,

darkness posing as light

 

Words stacked on top of words uttered in vain

—narcissists delight

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Full time poet,

part time novelist

 

Full time storyteller,

part time bard

 

The difference greater

than words will imply

 

Hemispheric divergence

—the why and the how

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Parenting is now a

full contact sport

 

No lines demarcated,

no rules to enforce

 

The children still babies,

the adults still kids

 

Diapering the future

—attached at the hip

 

(State College Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Until you truly answer the question,

“Why do I write poetry”

 

You’ll never really wed the verse,

—your copyright estranged

 

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)

He asked her why she acted so,

her answer was “Why not”

 

He asked her why her mood was vile,

she said “That’s all I’ve got”

 

He asked her then about their love,

gone missing and in doubt

 

She answered back while looking down,

a whisper not a shout…

 

“I loved you once, I loved you twice,

but then my heart went still

 

“I saw you change, your passion feigned,

your warmth a distant chill

 

“I gave you everything I had,

you strayed and looked for more

 

“Now emptiness has wed my heart,

—and loneliness your whore

 

(Bryn Mawr College: February, 2020)

Head unbowed,

heart impaled

 

Memory old,

Celtic tales

 

Allegiance sworn,

 fealty burned

 

Voices call

—freedom churns

 

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)

If only genius could be contagious,

like chicken pox or flu

 

If only brilliance could be transferred,

like a bank draft overdue

 

If only insight could be replayed,

like a Mozart symphony

 

Then epiphany’s light would shine on all

—in communal rhapsody

 

(Ashbridge Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Nothing more defended

than the status quo

 

To protect and covet,

never let go

 

Attacked by outsiders,

heels to dig in

 

Rocking the boat

—water within

 

(Ashbridge Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Dead to himself,

he stepped on the ice

 

Cracks beginning

to form

 

Transcendence rejected,

skating a path

 

In search of time

forlorn

 

Crossing each memory,

forgiveness in sight

 

Each step,

a weighted cost

 

Redemption melting,

 all hope in denial

 

Last chance

—to come across

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Leading from today

into the past

 

Present state of mind

destroyed

 

The future an orphan,

waiting disowned

 

Hell’s pathway

—to the void

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)