Truth,
the social mammogram
Forgiveness
—chemotherapy of the Gods
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Truth,
the social mammogram
Forgiveness
—chemotherapy of the Gods
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
The house is now quiet,
the children have gone
My beard they’ve left ruffled,
as memories grow long
With trains and dolls scattered
where last they played
Their love remains buried
inside of the maze
The cupola harkens
a last candle there burns
As the attic sits waiting
for the toys to return
The old house is silent
but deep from within
Their laughter still hides
—and my searching begins
(Thanksgiving: November, 2016)
A window framed with memory
lets in the brightest light
Its lock and hasp long since removed
a journeyman’s delight
Casting off the millstone
the rock of age has come
As darkness hides beyond the sash
—to greet the rising sun
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
Hopes and wishes step aside,
as new words cut in to dance
Painting the floor red
in lettered steps of eternity
Partners now consonant
a song of celebration
Whose lyrics waltz inward
—in patterns of remembrance
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Does trying to disprove
what I believe
make you feel better about what
you don’t…
Is your insecurity
crying out
that maybe I feel something
you won’t…
Does the depth of my commitment
bother you so
leaving you distant
fearful and alone…
Like a branch that’s now broken
swinging high in the tree
one strong gust
—and your fated to go
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Deep into the night of the harrowing dawn,
old voices went astray
And fast on the morning of no return,
final judgment came to stay
Crashing like a wave was the prophet’s voice,
this time not to be ignored
Washing away all excuse and false remorse
with damnation—forgotten Lord
(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)
We can all think
differently
While instantaneously feeling
the same
We can politically straddle the
great divide
While below loving the canyons
and plains
We can put all prejudice and
opinion aside
When the outcome is cast
zero-sum
And in those moments our greatness
calls loudest and true
With the blood of a freedom
—hard won
(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)
Will the pieces of the life you’ve lived
come together at the end?
Will the times that you reflected
straighten your path out, free of bends?
Are the places that you visited
more than way stops that you chose?
Are the feelings that you left with
still inside you—heaven knows?
Are your children still in contact,
do they ask you what you think?
Are your parents long forgotten
as you pour yourself a drink?
Are the days recounted backwards
with the best all left behind?
Does the silence serve to haunt you
with those things you cannot find?
Does the laughter fall on deafness,
do the smiles pass you by?
Are your friends left off your guest list
with no time for them to find?
Are the pieces of your puzzle
pointed sharp, and ill to fit?
Does your conscience wear a muzzle
with the blame an endless pit?
Is it what you said you wanted
when you started down this path?
Or are you now among the hunted
in a bad choice aftermath?
If before you’re gone, one chance flew by
a difference then to make
Would you hang on tight to all the lies,
or embrace this change of fate?
And if you do, the words will say,
you almost got it wrong…
Before you called those choices back
—and changed them into song
(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)
Manipulating reality,
the moment concealed
Manipulating reality,
what’s virtual ‘real’
Manipulating reality,
the keys push and drain
Manipulating reality,
technology reigns
Manipulating reality,
fantasy schools
Manipulating reality,
apostasy rules
Manipulating reality
all cursors and screens
Manipulating reality,
lost memory undreamed
Manipulating reality,
electrons control
Manipulating reality
a hard driven soul
Manipulating reality,
love crashes and burns
Manipulating reality
—truth cyber unlearned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
Long before the clocks ticked,
the garden was burning
The law had been laid down,
only the animals ran free
Long before the clocks ticked,
two lovers were yearning
The power, the struggle
—the lust to deceive
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)