Lost

Writing should be

  like making love

 

If you have to be taught

   —you’re lost

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)

 

 

Blinded Pride

 

The Emperor walks naked

  past eyes fully cloned

 

To his subjects he panders

  his pride for a throne

 

His strut his true signature

  exposure supreme

 

Your opinion no matter

  —he colors you green

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)

 

 

Nothing Lost

 

A four year endeavor

A lifetime of pain

The hours put in

Always fighting the strain

 

One hundredth of a second

Your dream crashes down

The spoils eluded

Someone else with the crown

 

No pictures or news clips

Today come your way

The prize to another

The trophy at bay

 

With pity now over

It’s time to dig in

The reward in the training

New endings begin

 

So head back to the track

Your pool or the court

The bar a bit higher

Your coach to retort…

 

   “It’s all up to you

    As you reweigh the cost

    Never quitting—the magic

    Until then nothing lost”

 

(Watching The Winter Olympics: February, 2014)

 

The Tears Of A Warrior

 

A Warrior’s tears…

  blood from above

 

His fury unleashed

  in a most perfect love

 

Though few understand it

  a life heaven loaned

 

Dying immortal

   —to be welcomed back home

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)