I never wrote so you’d approve…

I wrote what I believe

 

How you felt as you read those words

—is not my wound to bleed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Dreams, like orphaned water lilies,

float across the surface

 

Ferrying my last token wish,

adrift—this silver pond

 

The swans make way,

as faith glides freely upon the wind

 

Carrying my fervent hopes

into this moment, present sent

 

Their petals weaving in the breeze,

to spin and turn as one

 

Silhouettes change and soften,

as the mirrored distance calls

 

Arriving at the far bank,

two children play and laugh together

 

With pant legs high and feet immersed,

splashing to and fro

 

Smiling to each other, their laughter

churns a magic torrent

 

As they reach into its spray,

and take my dream into their hands

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Suspended moments between the lines,

my mind now lost in space

 

Sublimated syntax buried deep,

my spirit free to race

 

A light unfiltered, the sound of horns,

my body starts to rise

 

The ink is calling, my pen in hand,

new words at last—arrive

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

To inflict on tomorrow,

the empty promises of fate

 

The will to reign indifferent

—the devil’s cruelest form of hate

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Searching through the forest,

chasing dreams your sleep has wagered

 

And finding yourself in the mindless

spatial wasteland

 

You play two-handed poker

with the devil of your fright

 

The Prince holding just one card,

as you gamble it all…

 

Forever promising:

“This hand will be your ticket out”

 

He deals chance from the bottom,

this third time to be the charm

 

Your hand is folded,

as the present fires upon the night

 

Hitting your fate dead center,

all that’s left in quicker sand

 

Drowning the last excuse

of your bloodless past refusals

 

Salvation left in full retreat

—all exits thrice denied

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

The gray dawn slaughters
the promise of spring,
a desperate last goodbye

Its poisonous haze mocks
a sky forsaken,
the sun again denied

Its blanket lowers
in a shroud of judgment,
whose verdict darkly stained

To deluge its exit
in torrents of thunder
—as light reflects in vain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

To recite it in a Poem,

or sing it loud and strong

 

Their union an espousal,

one by measure, one by song

 

Division cast adrift,

 muted sirens fold their wings

 

This moment reinvented

—words and melody one thing

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Blue skies glisten,

the morning sun kisses

 

A Robin announcing

the day

 

The sweetness of spring,

to all lovers it brings

 

Renewed wishes

—the fresh promise of May

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

A spinner of poetry,

a weaver of prose

 

A seeker of truth,

or deceiver of both

 

Will verse be in conflict,

with chapter’s unrhymed

 

Can the feeling’s transfer,

is there likeness in kind

 

Will I always remember,

which prayer I must pray

 

Does the magic get lost,

if the wheat’s in the hay

 

Can I capture this moment,

be it virtue or vice

 

In my verse or a novel

—drawing water from ice

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Did you try to take it with you,

did you really think you could

 

Did your journey end abruptly,

as you never thought it would

 

Are those things that you acquired,

much of comfort to you now

 

Are those dreams left uninspired,

parked on someone else’s cloud

 

Did you once just say “I’m sorry,”

for those things you didn’t do

 

Did you weep in fearful moments,

for those things you wished you knew

 

Was your lack of all contrition,

what’s now written on your stone

 

Is your map unmarked and barren

—all eternity unknown

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)