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)
Freedom Deserts
Chasing the crown,
Sitting the throne,
—opposed
Pursuit once free,
Capture enslaves,
—jailer demands
Clipping one wing,
Grounding the wish,
—motion censored
Weight pushing down,
Hope abandoned,
—freedom deserts
(Strafford Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
When It\'s Cold
I want to die
in the winter,
—when it’s cold
With the reality
of being alive, stronger,
—than all fantasy of being
Where branches
break crisply,
—like a soul in decision
And the wind carrying away
on its distance,
—all strength and pain
I want to die
in the winter,
—when its cold
(Chicago Illinois: July, 1977)
The Future To Share
No one reads it,
more reason to write it
No one understands,
or seems to care
No one reads it,
the verse sits muted
Not to abandon,
—the future to share
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Ashes Cry
My tongue inspired,
words despised
The page on fire,
—ashes cry
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Wings Of A Prayer
A song more than a verse,
thoughts more than they say
A wish lost in the fall,
recaptured in May
Love more than a feeling,
all heaven to share
Last word redelivered,
—on wings of a prayer
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)