My reality secure
from the attacking winds
Sheltered by experience,
a fortress hard won
Neither fortune nor danger
can force their way in
All entrance is barred,
a mystery respun
An Eden contained,
in a legend foretold
Where peace and solitude
rekindle the light
Possessed of itself,
past-futures on hold
Its voice omnipresent
—to guide and delight
(Broomall Pennsylvania: August, 2019)
Perdition Assured
You try to mask your given voice
in what’s perverse and then profane
But truth speaks only for itself,
your costume tattered—seamstress blamed
This great parade, a grand charade,
your song a flattened chord
Its final line to seal your fate
—perdition now assured
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
My Past Returns
A tamer version of myself,
I rise from day to day
Fit for consumption publicly,
in camouflage I play
Memories deep, and memories stored,
from oh so long ago
Now sleep inside my attic walls,
ephemeral they glow
My current frame of reference…
four always two plus two
To the mundane I show deference,
and do what others do
But late at night I hear those sounds,
now coming down the hall
Remembrances to fill my dreams,
my treasure out of pawn
With sleep unchained and dreams on fire,
I return to who I am
And pray that on tomorrow’s eve
—my past will come again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Only For Itself
There are many voices
—but the truth speaks only for itself
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Ashes Cry
My tongue on fire,
words despised
The page in flames
—ashes cry
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)