Wrapped inside a moment,
reasons tied the bow
Excuses thrown into the trash,
where wasted pleadings go
The gift of time majestic,
when given free of tense
A present there beneath your tree
—its treasure heaven sent
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2019)
Time\'s Grip
Trapped inside a wasteland,
dying inch by inch
Slave inside a rusted heart,
feelings chained then lynched
Later now than yesterday,
earlier than goodbye
Spooled like thread that can’t be sewn,
the needle asking why
But time contorts, reversing,
trumpets call you home
Eyes unspoken, voice untouched,
senses all atoned
Words on fire with freedom stirred,
reasons scorched and bare
A silence brewing louder,
new light burns through the air
Eleven Angels fly as one,
and twelfth, you join their throng
With wings now soaring inward
—time’s grip left dead and gone
(Airplane To Seattle: March 8, 2017)
A False Infinity
Is your memory a circle,
or a trip straight out and back
A beginning and an ending,
or one continuous track
Do you see the same things going up,
that you pass when coming down
Is retention sealed and programmed,
by things going round and round
Without an ending where you stop,
or perhaps just one last verse
You rewind backwards to square one,
the past again rehearsed
This flux of motion holds you tight,
your perception never free
Serving both to mislead and to lie
—in a false infinity
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
Something For Jimi
Tonight,
I had a date with the mountain
Tonight,
I made those promises impend
Tonight,
behind the shadow of my fear
Tonight
—the devil smiled at me again
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
Only As Sacred
You want to define Poetry,
behind the safety of your bars
Open the door to your cage,
a world awaits, whose feathers tar
Dusty journals and how-to books,
no longer serve you here
The price of your admittance,
an acknowledgement of fear
With words only as strong
as the impression they leave
And feelings only as sacred
—as memory retrieves
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)