Refusing to be labeled,
rejecting type and cast
With choices so enabled,
my freedom first and last
All fantasy as token,
its myths now cast aside
My path remains unbroken,
—false branding singed with lies
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
The Key
My Grandfather was a Poet,
my Father was a thief
Their spirits fight to own my soul,
—my Son in cradle sleeps
My Grandfather spoke of beauty,
my Father spoke of sin
The truth now locked within a voice,
—whose key I leave to him
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Nothing New
The Devil not to be believed,
even when his words are true
Intent to spin ‘que es verdad’
old tactics—nothing new
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)