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)

Do your words sharpen,

  as your feelings dull

 

Do your actions harken,

  what’s still to cull

 

Do your wheels spin faster,

  as you sink in place

 

Does the meaning retreat,

  as you blindly chase

 

Do your moments forecast

  or serve to remind

 

Does the past just bookmark

  what your future declines

 

Does the master you serve

  in false prophecy dwell

 

Do you still have the choice

  —between Heaven and Hell 

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

Every word not spoken

 —the lost child of a forgotten wish

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

 

Poetry 101:

“Write what you know—write what you feel”

 

Poetry 401:

“Write what you know—write what you feel”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

To my Grandchildren, those great and beyond,

  whom I will never meet

 

Know that I love you and have seen you in the

  eyes of your parents when they were very small

 

I’ve heard your voices in the trees, when the

  wind blows softly calling my name as I walk

 

I’ve seen your arms reaching out to me in my

  dreams, as you cry “Papa” and then drift away

 

Your spirit is mine, as my spirit is yours; and no

  lifetime can keep us apart

 

I watch over you now and will watch over you then,

  whenever the need is great

 

I’m that voice you hear when you think no one else

  listens, and no one else understands

 

And the heart that feels what you will feel, when no

   one else seems to care

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)