Today is for the living

 fate yet to take its toll

 

The reaper’s threats lie cold and bare

 when not yet on his roll

 

Life belongs to those who bleed

 with joy and pain redressed

 

The will to live—Your love to give

 those things denied to death

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2018)

Are you the hero

  of a recurring dream

 

Or the victim

  of a life undone

 

Are you the ambassador

  for all you esteem

 

Or a fugitive

 —a soul on the run

 

Are you a real friend

  beyond trial and strife

 

Whose allegiance

  now stalwart defends

 

Are you the true master

  of all your desires

 

Or the ghost

 —of what sleep can’t befriend

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

His bravery inspired

  a hero defiled

 

By one of his own

  whose spirit disowned

 

All memory attacks

  what never came back

 

   ‘from a war beyond

    winning or losing’

 

The best of the best

  too early to rest

 

His brothers in arms

  —his first choosing

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Is Poetics

  a poem or a process

 

Is Love

  a lover or romance

 

Is Art

 a painting or a vision

 

Is Worship

  a place or deliverance

 

Is Freedom

  a word or a statement

 

Is Family

  just blood that we share

 

Is Duty

  an oath or vocation

 

Is Truth

  just a wish—undeclared

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Is heaven where you live out

  your dreams

 

Those fond wishes life never

  allowed

 

Is eternity that place

  not yet seen

 

Where you awaken

—a high flying cloud

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Smiling to himself…

Again, he had fallen in love

Amazed at the moment

A line crossed, forever blurred

 

Laughing inside…

His humanity back on display

All doubts ignited

Old embers near extinguished

 —on fire

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

As time unweaves,

 its mask deceives

  —to hide a bigger truth

 

The past and future

 threaded strands

  —to braid the hangman’s noose

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2018)

Folding in to convention

Sealed in creases of acceptance

Maligned and misled

By the false promises

Of a stolen heart

We chase the white whale

Of validation

Into waters of denial…

  “Fury—the rallying cry

   of our vengeful spirit

   Hate—the jilted lover

   of our fated selves”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

The power of the written word

  the spoken word supreme

 

Ink to then commission

  what only breath can glean

 

Soldiers line up back to back

  letters ranked and filed

 

The command to march just given once

  —its war chant loud and wild

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Having fun with the words,

  the party lasted till dawn

 

The sun now a blanket

  covered verses to warm

 

Having fun with the words

  all new phrases to sleep

 

Resting inside my heart

 —until daylight’s retreat

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)