Not only did the words come,
  they brought their friends along

They pitched their tent—built their fire
  and began to sing their songs

The sparks flew as memory rose
  good tidings in the air

Phrases birthed, new families penned
—brotherhood to share

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

Instinct flashes
  past the speed of light

Intuition imploding
  Zephyrus’ delight

Detached from its fuel source
  tale on fire

The comets direction
  —reversed and inspired

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

The ending in sight,
—beginning so near

What’s loosened now tight,
—those deafened to hear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)

A ticket lay there waiting
  untold riches bye and bye

The Powerball on Wednesday
  buying freedom with its lies

All barriers seemed broken through
  the world at your command

Perspective dying, hopes run wild
  control spun out of hand

The numbers tell the story
  but the payoff tells the tale

Be careful what you wish for
  —as the raindrops turn to hail

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

Today I turned seventy,
  and the clocks all faintly chimed

My hour glass near empty
  to mark the waning time

Weeks left on the calendar
  the moments more than days

With laughter most important now
  each memory through the haze

Today I turned seventy,
  and my dog he seemed to know

He whispered to my grandchildren,
  and their love began to flow

Bright sunshine through the window,
  but night is sure to come

The joy and pain of who I’ve been
  —to live on when I’m gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

I was twenty,
  and you were nineteen
  that day along the mall

When I heard a guitar
  from deep inside
  that round auditorium hall

Up on stage with legends
  Son House, Muddy,
  Johnny Winter too

A red haired, freckle faced,
  blue eyed girl
  commenced to sing the blues

You started with an apology
  saying you were outclassed
  and over matched

But once that voice
  left your heart and flew
   ….in nothing did you lack

I followed you out
  that afternoon
  in the late State College Fall

And after fifty years of looking back
  every moment
  I recall

I walked you to the bus
  as you said:
  “We’re in Harrisburg tonight

“Why don’t you come,
   it might be fun
   from there I catch a flight”

The bus was full,
  my eyes looked south
  as I hitchhiked down #322

Fate unexplained
  life forever changed
   —that special gift from you

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

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)

I want to play not manage,
  write not teach

I want to drive—all controls in hand

I want to be like the rain across
  the mountains

Not the river that may turn to sand

I want to be that ******
  with a single bullet

And not part of the infantry’s trek

I want to be the first
  to cross the tundra

Without needing a map to check

I want the bugle to blow
  from my own lips

So others may advance and attack

I want roses free, to line
  my front walk

Replanted from the garden out back

I want feet that will always
  climb above

The timid and reluctant below

I want memories to follow me
  out of this world

To a place that is just mine to know

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

There’s a poetry to life,
  that gets lost between the lines

A secret in each memory,
  that the future often finds

A stillness born of movement,
  that will last beyond today

Salvation in this moment,
—as eternity has its say

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

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

Within reason, beyond memory,
they sharpened my feel

Until alone they then left me,
— to confess and reveal

(Train-Penn Station NYC: March, 2015)

Regardless the battlefield,
   one fight rages on

Regardless the outcome
  —a warriors song

Regardless the politics,
   the brave fight and die

Regardless the questioner
  —blood telling no lies

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

I turn my collar up against the wind
and place my eyes along the skyline

Hoping in the darkness for some sign of you,
a colder truth I’ve never known

I pull my jacket tight across my chest
and watch the waves crash upon your shadow

Knowing the tide is like your receding heart,
washing my footsteps from the sand

The sun has now gone, the moon in flight,
and my hopes rise o’er the waves

My collar frozen and my soul on fire,
—as my wait begins again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

To live life as a Poet,
  to slay the demon time

Your spirit freed with every verse,
  in meter and in rhyme

To reach beyond your passion,
  to say what others feel

To bring tomorrow home today,
the devils wrath to reel

To wander past your memory,
  returning once again

Each word a ticket through the gate,
its path now lined with friends

Their faces each and every one,
a title to a poem

That left your hand so long ago,
—with heaven its to roam

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Lunacy…
  the unholy marriage
   —of laughter and fear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

Night erupts…
The maddening glow
Of a closing minute
Of a final hour
Shines pale
Against the frozen concrete
As the drumbeat starts
And the chanting starts
My last broken link
Forever lost—Forever lost
Salvation,
The calling card
Of a new
Abyss
My breath turning
Inward
Where the heat rises
And the voices expand
With the choking of angels
And the plucking of wings
New grace into the fire
The blessing of those
Becoming,
A curse to his rage
The fire of isolation
Burning sweet
Into my memory
Murderous thoughts
Killing innocent feelings
All orphaned intent
Lost in dark wandering
Time no longer master
Unto itself,
…as night erupts


(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

Deposit after deposit, memory is stored,
  interest compounding anew  

To transfer its balance of riches and gains,
—avarice must first bid adieu

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Are you technically perfect,
  but spiritually weak

Are your words so well crafted,
  your soul cannot speak

Are your rhythms in cadence,
  and your endings in rhyme

Are you stuck in a format,
  that kills the sublime

Do your stanzas all end,
  with the beginning destroyed

Does the summation now grieve,
  with its parts overjoyed

Can you escape your own artistry,
  can your craft turn to art

Can you risk all rejection,
—to create with your heart

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

I never wrote so you’d approve,
  I wrote what I believe

How you felt as you read those words,
—is not my wound to bleed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

On which side of the authority line
  do you fall…

      The pulpit,
      The assembly line,
      The suite down the hall

Who makes the decisions,
  do you stand—do you kneel

Is it giving or receiving,
do you take—do you steal

How many horizons,
  do your dreams fall behind

Staying distant—uncertain,
  not in view to remind

Where your memories lie,
  are your promises kept

Is the past now your future,
—will the present forget

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

All faith bestowed,
—all honor secured

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

A muzzle
  on a werewolf

Will never tame
  its bite

Whose jaws retract,
  with fangs intact

Enraged
—to prowl the night

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)