Beyond My Fear

The Sage brought me to the Muse,

 when I was but sixteen

 

Her face familiar, her words estranged,

 my fate caught in-between

 

As years went on she whispered

 and oft times took the lead

 

To guide my wishes past my fear

  —old wounds there left to bleed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)

The Intellectual Elf

Working at looking studious,

  the academic went his way

 

Pontificating what he didn’t know,

  his students bowed and swayed

 

Reading only what was duly sworn

  writing safe, within the shelf

 

To himself was he now smitten blind

   —an intellectual elf

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

To Confess And Reveal

Words rushed through my head

  clearing cobwebs away

 

All letters on edge

  cutting doors as they played

 

From one room to the other,

  they matched up and danced

 

And from basement to attic,

  my mind was enhanced

 

Without reason, beyond memory,

  they sharpened my feel

 

Until alone they then left me

  —to confess and reveal

 

(Train-Penn Station NYC: March, 2015)

 

 

 

Forever Wondering Why

Run away from the what

  let the how lead the way

Keep the questions before you

  and the answers at bay

 

Deem your motion perpetual

  with all stops left behind

As those presents unwrapped

  open up in your mind

 

May the wind rise to greet you

  and your sun never set

On those places now virgin

  and a lover unmet

 

May the wisdom of sages

  be your rallying cry

As you course through the ages

  —forever wondering why

 

(Train-New Haven: March, 2015)

Drifting Away

To see any clearer

  I drifted away

 

From your

   lies

 

From your

  madness

 

From your paperless

  tray

 

The word forest

   called

 

For my pen to break

  free

 

From the blurred

  introspection

 

Hovering close to your

  tree

 

When my vision

  unclouded

 

A bigger picture

  appeared

 

In whose distance

  I found

 

What your emptiness

  feared

 

(Train In Massachusetts: March, 2015)

Your Last Vow

Does music have a language,

 does feeling have a name

 

Is love the sole survivor

 that calls beyond the grave

 

Do excuses have a reason

 for the falsehoods that they spew

 

Does honor have a season

 to restore the faith you knew

 

Do all mothers have a father

 or just sons to tell their tale

 

Do all preachers write their sermons

 to rehash what God curtails

 

Are the words then just a token

 when cast out from the heart

 

Is judgment left unspoken

 with belief cut up in parts

 

Is direction now forbidden

 and all meaning thusly doomed

 

Is laughter all but hidden

 with its smile partly groomed

 

Is today beyond tomorrow

 and why replaced with how

 

Do the questions feign an answer

 indecision—your last vow

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)