Sometimes the words mean what they say,
and sometimes they don’t
Sometimes the feelings rot and decay,
and sometimes they won’t
Sometimes the vision is based on your sight,
and sometimes it’s not
Sometimes your hope is based on a dream,
and sometimes forgot
Sometimes the face is someone you know,
and sometimes it’s different
Sometimes a home is where you must go,
and sometimes it’s distant
Sometimes the flag is meant to be waved,
but sometimes you can’t
Sometimes your anger you try to enslave,
but sometimes you rant
Sometimes the meaning gets caught between lines,
and sometimes it doesn’t
Sometimes a verb will murder a noun,
and sometimes a dozen
Sometimes the day surrenders to night,
when nobody’s watching
Sometimes the night forces sinners to pray,
as destiny’s stalking
What’s old again new, all time to eschew,
both past and then future
As reasons demand what excuses command,
the ending unsutured
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
One Promise
One verse with many rhymes,
one bell with many chimes
One direction with many charts,
one blood with many hearts
One journey with many stops,
one timer with many clocks
One horizon with many shores,
one boat with many oars
One gallery with many arts,
one ending with many starts
One message with many tongues,
one legion with many sons
One promise to many gave,
one present—time remade
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
Choose
You can’t reinvent
the future
You can’t reinvent
the past
You can only reinvent
the present
The choice upon you
—choose at last
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
The Verse Now Safe
Endowed with words,
I run to the page
Hoping my pen
can be found
Keeping them alive, I’ve
yet to inscribe
Their voices seep and drip
to the ground
Left waiting inside
my hand starts to write
As the ink begins to flow
lines astound
My day now complete,
this night I shall sleep
The gifted verse safe
—written down
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
No Last Goodbye
That left undone while living,
a bedside chat won’t cure
Death coming fast, the first now last,
the closing of the door
With wounds unbled, in unmade beds,
lay prisoners of time
Good wishes die, no last goodbye
—intentions left behind
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)