Deifying themselves,
the scientists disprove
with their tools
the existence of God
To sit on a throne
artificially made
the Creator to them
falsely shod
They loudly decry
as their courtiers boast
about how powerful
their laws have become
While built into their structure
a flaw starts to crack
their self-glory
—a darkening sun
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
The Sleeping Messiah
The beginning and ending of all that is known,
inside of one last wish
To carry the meaning of destiny’s Poem,
all feelings to enlist
Into the darkness, bound by the light,
truth filling up the sky
The hopes and desires of the children of dreams
—to awaken the sleeping Messiah
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Hopeful Sound
We’re lucky to have survived each other,
in the aftermath of love
Those promises made as leaves they fell,
from a height so far above
The seasons changed, a pledge reclaimed,
buries deep within the ground
Waiting for Spring, its first robin to sing
—a new song of hopeful sound
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
The Ivory Tower
Atheists work on the breaker box,
as Creationists source the power
Rewiring a changing system that’s flawed
—their lights flicker in an ivory tower
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Self Delusion
Your words can rise,
or your words can fall
But a politically correct Poet
—is no Poet at all
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
The Origin
The speed of a photon,
the steps of a man
The truth pointing inward
—where forever began
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Fatality Of Truth
Words come to a point
like the tip of a spear
Embedding the truth
—impaling your fear
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
99.9
Extinction probability,
ninety nine point nine
History’s infinitive,
the graveyard of time
Cosmology winning out
in the end
The hourglass draining
—last thought to befriend
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Time Unspun
Looking in not out,
the picture cleared
Problems solved,
both far and near
Motion closed,
entropic sum
Space inflated
—time unspun
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Quantum Zeno
Awareness can be frozen,
“A watched pot never boils”
When perception’s forced upon itself,
all change in stillness toils
“To thine own self” the Bard entreated,
that one truth we’re meant to find
As consciousness—the mind of God
calls us from inside
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Forever To Share
Are there degrees of spiritual freedom,
or is its breadth just either or
Is the light metered out or self contained,
and endless in its store
Is the origin of beauty and its pathway divined,
beatific in its scope
Or can it be portioned, forever to share
—granting wishes with its hope
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Because I Must
Writing Prose,
because I can
And Poetry
—because I must
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)