Can you separate your art
from your politics
Can you separate the temporal
from the divine
Can you separate the excuses
from the reasons
Can you separate purpose
from those wasted times
Can you separate your vocation
and avocation
Can you separate curiosity
from true insight
Can you separate your duty
from convenience
Can you separate the darkness
—from the light
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Dragons Caught
The tightness of the words
protects the freedom of the thought
Whose voice when spoken gently
—can silence thunder and dragons caught
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Calling Inward
Are your wishes scribed in combat,
are your hopes relined with pain
Is your motion found still wanting
as you climb the stairs again
Are your words now of this moment,
is your verse free and sincere
Are your feelings calling inward
—from a heart that’s yearning dear
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
To Rage And Roar
My pen constrained and kidnapped
as ink bleeds evermore
Voices cry: “Something More Be Done”
—fury to rage and roar
(Villanova Pennsylvania: Dreamsleep-February, 2016)
Ink That Doesn\'t Run
Words in my fountain pen
bullets in my gun
Blasts of rapid insight
—ink that doesn’t run
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Less Risk
The deeper the pond
the calmer the water
The older the wine
the richer the flavor
The longer the gaze
the sharper the picture
The fewer the words
—less risk of conjecture
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Rooted Within
Carrying them with me
traveling through time
The words seed my memory
new meter and rhyme
Spreading them freely
over days fallowed thin
New feelings sprout upward
—rooted within
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Poetry Can\'t
A novel can be written and detach
from its author
—but poetry can’t
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Turn The Page
When the freedom
to think
And the ability to write
are at odds
—turn the page
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Together They Stand
Not judged in reference
kindred spirits they dance
The words once they’re spoken
notes and palettes enhanced
The music enlivens
what phrases will say
While a painting embodies
what verse can convey
And the only conflict
is in the critics eye
Who sees not the harmony
but comparisons lie
As all art travels skyward
enjoined hand in hand
To the source of its power
—where together they stand
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)