Is there always one verse
you still have yet to write
And if not—what’s the point
of it all
Are you the repository of
all you have felt
Or the dealer and merchant
of lies
Are your thoughts tattooed onto
your immortal soul
With your feelings exposed
or held back
Are the words disconnected
from the ink in your veins
Do you live within
all that you’ve said
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)
Free Of All Lies
Belief in the end…
if truth be your cross
To break or to bend
veracity’s cost
Last judgment your own
hawks chase as doves fly
One choice to atone
—when free of all lies
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
Death On the Fringes
The older I get
the louder the Muse does parade
The shorter the moment
the deeper her message invades
The older I get
distant voices filter and fade
With death on the fringes
—all focus recentered and staged
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)
The Last Drum Roll
What is the baseline
of your life?
How deep is the chord structure
of your meaning?
What is that riff that no raff
can destroy?
How long is your drum roll
—at the end?
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)