Sometimes …
there’s one poem
that opens your mind
And clears out
the cobwebs
that gather in kind
The words
defy entropy  
speaking as one
And pushing you
forward
— their mission is done

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)

Hiding from
the day
with night
growing short
The light
to expose
what darkness
— aborts

(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)

Death ever faithful
in spite of the glee
Holding our place
in wanton reprieve

We ever the cuckold
of life’s dark affairs
As quiet it waits
— a loyal au pair

(Dreamsleep: June, 2024)

Organizing each word unpenned,  
I gave myself to rhyme

And offered up my humble skills
in thankfulness sublime

Each one a treasure unto me,
with silence on the run

Verses promised and drifting near
—of memories to come

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Give up your torment,  
take back your verse
tomorrow upon you
for better or worse

Take up your wishes,
give in to dreams
sleep in denial,
old memories scream

Free up the moment,
strike out the past
damning the future,
its promise unmasked

Strike up the silence,
freeing new words
seizing the instant
—forever unheard

(The New Room: May, 2022)

Academicians …
masticating and
grinding their ‘truth’
Spewing out
what they would have us swallow
in gagging choking egotism
Regurgitating it back
in the toxic chunder
of a narcissistic reality
Papering the walls
of modern thought
with the bibs of their retching
As they hide within
their ivory towers
—festering in mass

(St. David’s Pennsylvania: September, 2023)

Writing in obscurity,
musings unrestrained

Words to live both free and clear
—nothing to repay

(The New Room: April, 2021)

Safe place for the meaning — in couplets of rhyme
the words taking shelter in moments sublime

Their message unfurling — new harbor in sight
the tempest becalming in lines of delight


(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Does your writing lack power,
is it merely verbose,
as you labor line to line

Is the message red meat
or a vegan’s delight,
its essence so defined

Each word as an arrow
that strikes for the heart,
its tip to preordain

The strength of the meaning
abandoning all
—when destined to explain

(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)

Destiny knighted
—vanity scorned

(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)

Religion…my writing,
all faith in the pen

My savior the words
—the Muse heaven sent

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

The playing field level
your words versus mine
A race to forever
embedded in rhyme

The score has been tied
neither side giving ground
Both phrases and couplets
inscribed to astound

It’s late in the game
when a stanza takes off
Outpacing the others
no images lost

As darkness approaches
but one voice remains
Returned from the heavens
— posterity claimed

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Reports…
cold facts on paper
Truth
unto itself
The World
to judge in concert
One man
much deeper felt

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)

Passing each other
on the cusp of goodbye
A prayer of forgiveness,
a desperate last sigh

Feeling the emptiness,
hearts gone to stone
Lost in the memory
—of love we had known

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Trying to write a lyric
my words reduce to verse
The euphony escaping me
adrift as I converse

Though joy is sorely tempered
these letters soldier on
In hope of just one melody
—in hope of just one song

(Bryn Mawr College: September, 2023)

Chasing a memory
wrapped in a moonbeam
Lighting the darkness
—freeing the words

(Dreamsleep: September, 2023)

With no respect for time,
words revisit
Invading my consciousness,
attacking my fear
The moment conscripted
beyond all denial
An ageless understanding
—of what’s to become

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Born to the same words as you,
the feelings were my own
Language shared, intention spared,
a vision fully grown
Our words converse, beyond my verse,
your prose unto my rhyme
To search that darkest hidden place,
each footstep out of time

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Strutting
in place
Message
defaced
Words left
to spew
Bombast
in view
Worshipping
mirrors
Begging
for fame
Image
debasing
Vanity’s
— claim

(The New Room: March, 2025)

“Replay the riff in G,”
Robby said to Ray

“Come in a half beat behind,”
they both said to John

Then the three looked at Jim who said…
“Lay it all down,
turn it all over,
and pull it all back”

(8901 West Sunset Boulevard: West Hollywood California, 7-21-1966)

Dawn of the city
sunset of humanity

Light a burning ash
—darkness closing in

(The New Room: September, 2022)

Why then poetry …
why not prose
the answer prescient
to those who know

On wings of light
it comes unsought
abrupting time
on breezes caught

Why then poetry …
the world in verse
within whose lines
the Bards converse

The oldest questions
age sublime
within its torrent
—within its rhyme

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

Poets
who cry
Jesters
goodbye
Alone
in the dark
Old heartaches
to mark

Time
closing in
Memories
thin
Whispers
and tears
Finality
— near

(Villanova University: June, 2025)

Blaming the innocent…
a form of insanity

Armed with good intention
—reproaching the night

(Dreamsleep: June, 2021)

Stalking a dream
trailing a memory
A scent came in focus
  wafting desire

Seized by the moment
alluding a time warp
Tracking its shadow
ambush on fire

Covered in greasepaint
fear is approaching
Hearing its footsteps
the jungle embarked

Crosshair detention
target redemption
Locked and reloaded
—one shot in the dark

(Dreamsleep: September, 2023)

Asleep in their nests
birds dreaming out loud
Just outside his window
new questions aroused
The moonlight not finished
what it started before
The church clothes still hanging
on the back of the door
What once he thought ended
returning again
What never befriended
new searching begins
The glass in the parlor’s
long myopic hall
Illuminates squalor
and all he recalls
The ringing alarm
signals all bets are off
As the birds start to sing
of eternity’s cost
The revelers revel
the sanguine proclaim
The church starts to fill
and they’re calling his name
Any proof in the pudding
has curdled and soured
As the chalice gets cleaned
and the vision devours
The mood is enhanced
and wine slowly drips
The light through the stained glass
distorted in bits
The reasons no matter
alone as before
And sanity worships
death closing the door
His dress shirt went on
white starched and unblessed
The sermon made ready
for those at behest
And what might he offer
where prisoners hide
Salvation most proffered
when funded by lies
The eyes looking back
fixed silent and low
The eyes looking back
from pews far below
Surrounded by neighbors
and men who’re once bold
His eyes were then only
but thirteen years old
The distance seemed fatal
the distance seemed slim
But now looking up
it was all about him
To one then so young
and so new and so fresh
Still wanting to believe
in not leaving the nest
Surrounded by elders
deceivers and friends
Dressed in his finest
his hair slicked on end
His eyes remain down
as his thoughts decontruct
His face never changed
as the sermon ramped up
“And what must the youth
think of me on this day”
The Vicar’s thoughts looming
praying mantis to prey
The height differential
the power sublime
The stairs leading up
for the blind then to climb
And once at the top
all so distant below
And once at the top
nothing new left to know
The birds dare not enter
the sparrow or dove
The belfry stark empty
devoid of all love
The peacock dismembered
in colors of blight
The peacock remembered
in times that were bright
The hand bills are placed
at the end of each pew
A message designed
for only the few
Caught up in the fable
caught up in the lie
To burn down the manger
lambs scream as they fry
The church social breakfast
has started out back
Hoping for: “Great sermon Parson
had to hold my tears back”
But the truth knows no teller
but what’s told in the end
Whose message stays mired
where all messages end
Belonging to no-one
to him least of all
But forever himself
as he must heed the call
The blamer blasphemer
the architect *****
Silent screams from the pews
that they need something more
And in silence he struggles
his collars’ too tight
For clerics who bombast
portend and then fright
The moral unlettered
the reason unschooled
The soul when unfettered
no one left to rule
He knew the time short
few stairs left to climb
That boy once malingered
to always remind
To start at the beginning
to restart at the end
To start where he stopped
as a stranger again
Overpowering reluctance
consumes him today
And with cryptic delusion
he parry’s and feigns
Beget not begotten
claiming unto himself
All virtue forgotten
all feeling unfelt
If it mattered whenever
if it mattered just once
The parson calls out
to approach and exeunt
Reversing his trust
shouting but to himself
“Betray now adroitly”
this ice cube to melt
Benedictions unburning
inside the unhost
All tides are returning
last turkey to roast
The *** is left thickening
ruination sublime
Intention most wicked
coming only from mind
The cowards stay victim
the bravest rejoice
A knave neath the roundtable
never his choice
The bend in the circumstance
the straightening lie
The clue that was missing
the unquestioned reply
Walk up to the pulpit
three steps that don’t end
The pride and the fury
pontificates rend
Looking out at the parishioners
their eyes staring down
He knows without speaking
rivers crossed, bridges down
As he takes his last breath
speaks his last final words
What once was a boy
separates from the herd
He steps down, turns and leaves
without once looking back
The parson stabbed fatally
his parsonage wracked
The breakfast is ransacked
left plundered and frayed
The devout are heard neighing
like a horse without hay
Heading straight down the lane
neither bowed nor *****
No breakfast for him
celebration dissects
Walking in through the back door
his Aunty Ruth smiles
Asking, “Is everything all right”
you’ve been gone quit awhile”
He says: “Everything’s fine
as his father distills
And closing the window
say’s: “I’m feeling a chill”
He walks up 13 stairs
and sits down on the bed
Looking straight up above him
childish images dead
Asleep before dark
in a dream meets his peace
Knowing surrounded by doom
he must tomorrow retreat
He is up before dawn
and back out on the lane
One sack over his shoulder
one orphan to claim
The walk to the harbor
is rocky and steep
His gait ever steadfast
a promise to keep
Signing onto the first ship
that’s ready to sail
Setting a course still uncharted
in a sea of travail
The clouds getting darker
the waves though they fall
His soul is on fire
his spirit on call
With the ship looming outward
beyond sight of land
His future to clear
his mission at hand
That first day on board
and first night below deck
Were the first that had ever
held him safe in their net
With dawn’s light he climbed
to the crow’s nest above
And said ‘Thank You” to providence
vowing his love
And he sat there for hours
his past to enshroud
New horizons were calling
— he never so proud

(Oregon Inlet: June, 2003)

Like water…
fear seeks its own level
Rich or poor
it wades through our consciousness
Driving us inward
toward sirens of darkness
Shrilling the moment
—with lyres of doubt

(Hereford Inlet: December, 2021)

Yellowstone waits
for my return
her beauty
caught between
A memory
and its token source
imagined
when unseen
A wishful glance
a haunting breeze
her magnetism
strong
To pull the strings
around my heart
forever
—to belong

(Villanova University: October, 2023)

Closer to words
than I am to people

Meaning,
in place of love

Heart felt recital,
truant revival

In script
—to rise above

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2019)

Blessing
the last poem
I’m ever to write
My body
reposing
Sophia’s delight
With eyes
dimming slowly
each breath growing thin
My spark
to an Angel
— as light to begin

(1st Book Of Prayers: February, 2024)

Nostalgia trumps memory
when looking back

The bad fading gray
offloading the black

Sparse moments of joy
though far and between

Now color our feelings
—as red turns to green

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

Writer’s write
Speaker’s speak  
(and never)
— the twain shall meet

(Ketchum Idaho: August, 1983)

The only thing worth being
—is in awe

(Dreamsleep: October, 2022)

Behind ivy thoughts and mortared speech,
my soul cannot be bought

As I worship freely deep within
—the truth forever caught

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)