Its chain cut again…
the demon is loose
Deep into the night,
she hunts darker truths
The hallway’s back stairs,
her favorite retreat
Pending daylight’s return,
when her bite becomes weak
Then she staggers back wounded
to shadows that call
Old blood trails lead silent
down that dark lonely hall
Where a door is rechained,
and its lock fastened tight
Until a hacksaw appears
—with the next moonless night
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Veracity Returned
Lying to myself…
the truth swimming free
Escaping prevarication,
abandoning my schemes
The water got deep,
its weight dragged and pulled
Till veracity returned
—resuscitation fulfilled
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Fear Now My Prey
Repelled by tradition
and past status-quo
I enter the jungle
where hides the unknown
Rejecting excuses
and all that’s passé
My bow is drawn tightly
—with fear now my prey
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Your Lifeless Form
Do You Bore Yourself?
Do you rent the space
you’re standing in,
owning nothing in the end
but default?
Do you recycle words
until their utterance fails,
mistrusting your ability
to say what’s right?
Do you hedge your bets,
never going all in
for fear of losing the very thing
you haven’t got?
Do you count the days,
as tedium destroys spontaneity
and all energy drains
from your lifeless form?
Do You Bore Yourself?
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
This Moment At Hand
Living an eternity
with each given day
The calendar a slave
to the present foray
This moment at hand
the only time you’re ordained
Exploding at once
—over and over again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Where Words Never Die
From whom was your legacy born,
and where does your destiny lie
A voice calling out from the storm
—a place where the words never die
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)