The idea of God,
eternal, complete
The knowledge of God
—elusive at best
(St. David’s Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
Captus
Sentenced to the future,
for those sins unpunished now
Caught inside a fatal moment
—breaking sacred vows
(St David’s Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
The True Cost
Forgetting to remember,
destiny sold
is eternity shamed
Forgetting to remember,
letters well placed
still call out your name
Forgetting to remember,
providence anointed
is innocence lost
Forgetting to remember,
what’s bought with your freedom
—blood the true cost
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
My Own
When I was young,
my edges raw,
my feelings open,
my thoughts my own
Now that I’m old,
those edges scarred,
those feelings transient
—those thoughts my own
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
‘Watching The Documentary, ‘Sir George Martin’
Your Memory
Now, more than ever,
my thoughts regale,
the years as yeast,
new spirits rise
Now, more than ever,
my woods on fire,
old feelings simmer,
my breath to stoke
Now, more than ever,
I walk alone,
my words returning,
time destroyed
Now, more than ever,
I live within,
as verses buried
reach out to call
Now, more than ever,
I look straight back,
and seize the magic
my eyes had missed
Now, more than ever,
I call your name,
the promise wakens
—your memory sings
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
Mariah Calls
Writing outside the audience,
applause means something more
Writing the words inherent,
oblivious to the score
Writing outside the audience,
and critical acclaim
Writing for time eternal
—Mariah calls your name
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
What Once Was...
I carry deep inside myself,
a man once big and strong
Who stood alone against the wind,
that blew both right and wrong
I carry in my heart and mind,
those things that age inures
Reminding of what once was mine
—as memory endures
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
Bribing The Devil
Leaving nothing to his children but cowardly shame,
his back turned toward the light
His memory the captor of a traitorous scheme,
capitulating through the fight
His legacy broken, his endowment recalled,
his reputation scorched and burned
Offering to the Devil his original sin
—with redemption twice suborned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
Death By Association
I’ve yet to meet two artists
who really like each other
The cobra and the mongoose,
locked in a mortal embrace
They say the same prayers,
as they swear the same allegiance
While hating what the other does
—and who the other is
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
The Indian Sign
You never want to look your art
directly in the eye
For fear of having it look away
—you orphaned bye and bye
(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)
Lover\'s Mirage
You left me before I found you,
never saying why
Your shadow my only memory
—on the threshold of goodbye
(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)
Truth\'s Quarry
Does your writing have a time stamp,
or an expiration date
Does it spoil in the open air,
does it falter at the gate
Will children still remember,
when they have grandchildren of their own
That what’s written once and meant to last
—those words made out of stone
(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)
Never Explain
Once I tell you what it means,
the cell walls isolate
Other meanings locked inside
—no hope of an escape
(Inspired By Bob Dylan’s Comments To Dick Cavett)