A common man with bad intent

 can damage and do harm

 

But a genius with an evil heart

 —makes hellfire seem lukewarm 

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

Release the hasp

Pull back the mask

The key has turned

Your face to learn

 

Remove the lid

Reach down amid

What’s hidden deep

—as secrets sleep

 

Confront the lie

The souls new stye

Wash clean the pain

With loves refrain

 

Commit your faith

In God remake

The time is now

 —all time is now

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

     From ‘The Book Of Prayers’

My strength

Is that I am

Fundamentally

Unscientific

Not subject to the

Dissection

Of consequence

Or category

And not at the

Mercy

Of the scholastics

And nihilists

Who spend their days

Trying to reprove

That the whole is equal

To the aggregation

Of its parts

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

 

 

 

Giving up the money

 for a chance at transcendence

 

The words became sacred,

 all time was disowned

 

Chasing that one thing

 that if caught defies memory

 

At one with the truth

 —forever at home

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Physics over Metaphysics,

 the cart before the horse

 

The chisel praised, the sculptor blamed

  —the tool the icon sourced

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Would I trade the words…

  would I trade for a song

 

Would I trade the words…

  for a life ever long

 

Would I trade the words…

  for a pulpit on high

 

Would I trade the words…

  for the moon and the sky

 

Would I trade the words…

  for immortality insured

 

Would I trade the words…

  for your love still unheard

 

Would I trade the words…

  for all fortune and fame

 

Would I trade the words

  —would my soul then remain

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

The great gift of intelligence…

  the gift of language

 

The great gift of language

  —the gift of verse

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

The tide of redemption

 —catches all in its wake

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

The only winner in a war of attrition

  —is loss

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

I wrote so many,

  in hope of one

 

A lyrical surfer,

  his wave to come

 

One verse to ride,

  the search complete

 

And all eternity

  within my reach

 

As the quiet ended

  in a thunderous roar

 

The wait was over,

  its message pure

 

All judgment past

  and future scorned

 

A timeless swell

  —perfection born

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)