Your page now short on substance,
yet colorful the rhyme
The words used in abundance,
where lesser might define
Intention slave to beauty,
all meaning zero sum
Pageantry lost in the wind
—your blood left still to run
(Grantham New Hampshire: February, 2017)
Straddling the candle,
too close to the flame
A fiery benediction
—a smoldering refrain
(Grantham New Hampshire: February, 2017)
Writing the words,
owning the words
Prisoners and Minstrels,
sentences heard
Writing the words,
owning the past
Chains coming off
—freedom at last
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
Were you at one with yourself
while writing it
Did the beginning
have an end
Did each word describe,
or then inflame
What light
can only bend
Did you gag
on meaning bundled
Were you trapped
behind its door
Were you—are you
self-professed
Does truth still ask
for more
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
Can you experience a lifetime,
inside of a minute
Can you say with one word,
what used to take a book
Can you thank those you love,
with just one smile
Can you see the truth in everything
—with only one look
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
Did you do it,
Did you write about it
—or both
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
In the darkness last night,
I heard Crazy Horse call
The wind through the willows,
new horse in my stall
His words my direction,
the hail in my storm…
“Your brothers await you
—the council fire warm”
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
Motorcycle From Pa. To L.A. 7-18-2019
Deposit after deposit, memory is stored,
interest compounding anew
To transfer its balance of riches and gains
—avarice must first bid adieu
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
She’s familiar…
ain’t that the blues
Sleeping beside her,
I always knew
Chipped beef on Monday,
Thursday cold stew
Dishes piled high,
paycheck gone through
She’s familiar…
ain’t that the blues
Home from work early,
today around noon
Mattress was creaking,
my pistol I drew
Two shots in my brother
—four more in the flooze
(Chicago Illinois: Performed with Clinton Mace at Cabrini Green 1985)
Stepping over the line,
in pursuit of a song
Could a melody so right
—ever be so wrong
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
