Our lives were of this moment…

 the wave made sure of that

 

Winter nineteen sixty-nine

 Waimea’s fury spat

 

Thirty feet and building

 the giants all had come

 

Their lips four stories high above

 too late to cut and run

 

The paddle out a nightmare

 the ride a waiting terror

 

The drop in looming zero-sum

 the wall the devils mirror

 

We made it down and set our fins

 to climb the face again

 

Our ears were deaf, eyes frozen wide

 once more to climb the mountain 

 

On top we leaned and split the crest

 last turn to surf the violence

 

The beach in sight, through foams delight

  —death wading through the silence

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)

           ‘Memories Of Waimea’

 

The greatest Poem I ever wrote…

 the one I just laid down

 

The one to last a thousand years

 deep in the lost and found

 

With words familiar, feelings stained

 in blood from echoes past

 

My pen left bleeding on its page

  —as quietude repasts

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

A ticket lay there waiting

 untold riches bye and bye

 

The Powerball on Wednesday

 buying freedom with its lies

 

All barriers seemed broken through

 the world at your command

 

Perspective dying, hopes run wild

 control spun out of hand

 

The numbers tell the story

 but the payoff tells the tale

 

Be careful what you wish for

 —as the raindrops turn to hail

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a level above choice

 where the answers are clear

 

The options there vanish

 yes or no disappears

 

Beyond wishing and hoping

 something less—something more

 

All time but a servant

   —slave to light evermore

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

The night retreats in silence,

  as daylight rules the fray

 

Darkness reigns the past goodbye

  this moment not a dream

 

The present all we’re given

 the future lies astray

 

Repeating truth inside itself

 —one time forever means

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

Each breath gets me closer,

 as the past moves away

 

With choices much clearer,

  turning night into day

 

One meaning unchosen,

 its Angel benign

 

Forever most willing

 —last doubt now divine

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

Feeding on my hunger

 the days were longer still

 

That yet to come and still undone

 left victim to my will

 

Starvation my horizon

 its emptiness on fire

 

Unending pangs my souls repast

 —a famine to inspire

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

Honing the blade of life’s

 greatest adventure

 

The edges were sharp

 with the meaning inspired

 

It shaved like a razor

 as days became short

 

The last cut the deepest

  —left wounded and free

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

 

 

 To worship everything

   and value nothing

 

An ego’s adulation

 —the soul despairs

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

 

Micromanaged children

 in a micromanaged world

 

The I’s all dotted, T’s all crossed

 lost within the swirl

 

Each cup seemed overflowing

 empty spaces void and null

 

All time and place for life’s surprise

 —now victim to its toll

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)