Real poets do not hide

behind ivy covered walls

 

But write within the maelstrom

—of those voices that call

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2015)

Be careful as you age….

when they try to convince you

that your rough edges need to

come off

 

Be careful when they say that

“Your words need to be more

carefully chosen and more appropriate

to the politically elite”

 

Be careful when they threaten those

things that you have developed over

time that they will never appreciate

or understand

 

But be most careful when they tell

you…. “We are really your friends and

have only your best interests at heart”

—be most careful

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2015)

People are afraid of what

they can’t understand

themselves most often assured

 

In the depths of their wandering

a voice cries out

a voice too close to ignore

 

People will bolt from that thing

that pursues

that thing that augurs to chase

 

With blinders on tight

and running in vain

—to flee what they’ll never escape

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Turning his eyes inward

his heart let out a sigh

 

And then with one last fleeting glance

he bid the past goodbye

 

What’s gone left undetermined

the future not to be

 

The moment praying faithfully

and down on bended knee

 

His garden burns autumnal

with colors rich and brown

 

A robin sings—last plant begins

seeded wishes in the ground

 

And then a North wind calls him

its voice so plain and clear

 

Those things undone best left to Him

—with winter oh so near

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Never trying to cheat the reader,

my words stay plain and few

 

The road direct, horizon vast,

as truth comes into view

 

Each word unclaimed, a promise kept,

the wait your reasoned choice

 

To breathe the future from the past

—this present freshly voiced

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

My head is neatly organized

my heart on fire again

 

Thoughts escaping, love unleashed

emotion teared and stained

 

All conflict over—fate in charge

direction hard and fast

 

As Venus leads beyond the sun

Apollo in the past

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

‘Yesterday was always better’

a convenience of the past

 

A place to store what got away

those things that didn’t last

 

‘Tomorrow may be better again’

as we hope against the tide

 

While the present slips away unseen

—its gift false time belies

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Aging like wine,

the phrases they flow

 

Their vintage in rhyme

—forever to know

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Where do dreams go

once you’ve dreamt them

 

Where do feelings go

once you’ve felt them

 

Where does pain go

once you’ve suffered it all

 

Where do memories go

—once you’re gone

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2015)

A walking contradiction

like all those who bleed

 

‘My heart headed one way

my mind in the lead’

 

‘My mind headed one way

my heart in the lead’

 

A tale of two visions

—the truth in between

 

(Train From White River Junction: March, 2018)