The Muse continues to punish me,

  whenever I write prose

 

Her slaps severe with pain heartfelt

  —no fury ‘hell hath known’

 

She sentences me to endless nights,

  and days when words won’t come

 

Until I succumb to writing verse

 —and she, my breath becomes

 

(The Court at K.O.P: February, 2016)

The string is broken,

  the past is lost

 

A road forgotten

 —fresh winter’s frost

 

All memory erases,

 new thoughts to spin

 

The distance thawing

 —another Spring

 

(Court At KOP: February, 2016)

Do you have that place,

  that place where you hide

 

So tranquil and peaceful,

  and hidden from eyes

 

Do you have that place,

  looming close but concealed

 

Where your essence rests freely

  —where your soul can congeal

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Dreams carry me across

  a mysterious land

 

Where the voice of my fathers

  so gently commands

 

It echoes now softly,

  in words only sung

 

A joyous recital,

  rewoven and spun

 

I never can stay there,

  I’ve begged till I weep

 

And with barely a whisper,

  I’m roused from my sleep

 

But when darkness befalls

  on my world once again

 

A new dream will come calling

  —to guide me within

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)

Broken feelings

My chest of gold

A ransom of torment

No trinkets sold

The treasure bounteous

Walls lined with blood

Its hurt and pain

I have withstood

The jewels lack sparkle

But shimmer deep

Their cut and clarity

My soul to keep

And words if cheapened

Must leave this throne

As the lid reopens

 —on the pain I own

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)

Authenticity,

Does the word ring true

Does it call from the outside

Or the inside of you

 

Authenticity,

Your voice renewed

Zero-sum once committed

Zero-sum payment due

 

(Barnes & Noble: Plymouth Meeting Pa:  January, 2016)

Persuader inside me

  dark sweetness cajoling

 

A talisman dangles

 —the present foretold

 

(Las Vegas: January, 2016)

Eat the dessert first,

  balance be damned

 

The icing to start

 —your cake to withstand

 

(Las Vegas-Cheesecake Factory: January, 2016)

Is anyone ever a total fraud

  or totally sincere?

 

Is anyone committed beyond mere space

  to a notion fond and dear?

 

Is anyone ever one hundred percent

  with subtraction the rule of the day?

 

Is anyone better than what they believe

  or worse than a mother can pray?

 

Is anyone ever truly in charge

  of that moment that slips through the hand?

 

Is anyone willing to dance beyond hope

  to a melody lost by the band?

 

Is anyone chosen from those who are not

  or entitled to what can’t be earned?

 

Is anyone welcomed straight into the light

 —on a path where all others have turned?

 

(Airplane-Las Vegas To Philadelphia: January, 2016)

Mountains are never as grave as the Sea,

  great heights with all dangers exposed

 

But depths that lay sullen, undiscovered, and dark

—hide a nightmare to sailors like me

 

(Airplane-Las Vegas To Philadelphia: January, 2016)