Dreaming in the shadows,

by the light of the moon

 

My feelings chasing words

—that can speak for us all

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2019)

 Mercurial freedom

Beyond sexuality

Love trumping weakness

—truth beyond lies

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)

There’s a certain type of age

that can’t get old

 

Death caught within the road signs

of its bartered weakness

 

Where voices cry a fevered wish

to all who listen

 

And legends write their epitaphs

—on hearts afire

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)

I like hitchhiking

because it’s clean…

Its ending not restrained

by false beginnings

The future more indentured

than the past

With freedom wrapped inside

this very moment

Each car another chance  

—to say goodbye

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2019)

Ironic…

what we forgive in our heroes

 

Their faults,

tragic badges of fame

 

Our glasses,

colored rose without brambles

 

Their legend

—sealed in myth beyond blame

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)

The wildness of nobility,

the fire before the storm

 

The question with many answers

—the substance within the form

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2019)

Religion is a license

—whose fee is death

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2019)

Apollo en garde,

my prose to re-verse

 

Where Swans freely sing

—the Raven in search

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Does your past

inhibit the meaning

 

Does a smile work

 to cover your pain

 

Does today lie in wait

for tomorrow

 

Your messages cleft,

forever the same

 

Do you write before feelings

have woken

 

The letters pretty, in cursive

review

 

When your words leave the pulpit

unspoken

 

Do you retreat to the very

last pew

 

Taking refuge,

as twilight approaches

 

All windows shuttered,

any truth to mime

 

Those orphaned moments

 to hold you captive

 

And a victim

—the prisoner of time

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Does loneliness strike when entering a new space,

that we choose, or is chosen for us

 

Is the isolation a door to where we must go,

a new portal, our spirits in flux

 

Is being alone the price that we pay,

breaking through, old walls to come down

 

Fresh voices to translate, new whispers to hear

—as we tread unfamiliar ground

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)