A Turkish Mother To The Kaiser (WW1) +8

How many sons

  have we lost

 

How many demons

  have we found

 

How many graves

  must we dig

 

To make the ‘Fatherland’

  proud

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

 

What's Now In Front

 

Is it Aerosmith or The Eagles for you,

  Republican or Democrat to vote

 

Is it Chinese takeout or Italian bistro,

  or the prose or poetry you wrote

 

Is it bland or spicy, thick or thin,

  as you struggle yet confused

 

Is it yes or nor, or God forbid maybe,

  what’s to gain and what’s to lose

 

Is it briefs or boxers, or none at all,

  is it Winter over Spring

 

Is it rock and roll, or blues or jazz,

  does it have to be one thing

 

Is it dogs or cats, or beer or wine,

  is the difference felt inside

 

When you choose just one, to eliminate,

  what your vanity tries to hide

 

Throw out the rules, pull off the mask,

  to your inner self be true

 

Force not yourself to choose between

  —but what’s now in front of you

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

 

Beyond His View

 

Writing about life…

  he was powerless over death,

  life was what he was good at

 

Death, a combination

  of all he would never understand

  and all he would never accept

 

It was a major failing,

  never to bring closure or a period

  to the end of his sentence

 

Along a road predestined,

   mirrored by the face of denial,

   redemption unreflected—beyond his view

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

Death's Quota

 

The flowers all have scattered,

  borrowed feelings cry out loud

 

Mock funeral of celebration,

  grief false beneath their shrouds

 

The mourning congregation,

  to the tavern marched in step

 

A ruse to the departed,

  with each toast his memory wept

 

His friends then hugged his enemies,

  his wife and girlfriend kissed

 

Through the glass a raven watches,

  taking names without a miss

 

A ‘last call’ shouted boldly,

  and all glasses drained of lies

 

As two wings beat out a roll call

  —death’s quota flying high

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

Literary Genetics

 

The DNA of language

  is Poetry

 

The DNA of Poetry

  —is love

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

A Melody Of Sages

 

Prose and Poetry

  came together

 

In a marriage of

  infusion

 

 —each wanting from the other

     what they could not bring

 

—each vowing to the other

    words they longed to sing

 

Birthing a new music

  of epic proportion

 

In an infant now timeless

  beyond simple refrain

 

—with a message for the ages

    wrapped in lyrical rhyme

 

—in a melody of sages

    defying space and time

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

Wasted Dreams

 

Delay success for as long

As you can…

Living up to an image

Will only cloud your judgment

Stealing what you can least

Afford to lose

Dragging you into the illusion

And myth

That could take a lifetime

To rail against

Dragging you into the

Vicarious trap

Of praise falsely given

 —and wasted dreams

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

A Wish Still On Loan

 

Making love to remembrance,

  I see her walk past

 

Blonde, eighteen and tan,

  and this decade my last

 

A memory comes back,

  as new feelings release

 

Of a field in September,

  when our hearts were at peace

 

And I think of you fondly,

  as I watch her pass by

 

I hold the thought warmly,

  as she looks in my eyes

 

With my head now to follow,

  she turns to my left

 

My joint pain endemic,

  my passion still deft

 

But this memory won’t leave me,

  as that summer you did

 

These new thoughts my own,

  where you took ours and hid

 

And as she steps through the doorway,

  a fantasy unknown

 

I make love to her memory

  —with a wish still on loan

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

 

A Voice Heaven Sent

 

Never writing for the masses,

  just writing for you

 

One lone set of ears,

  to share life anew

 

Never writing for consensus,

  my words not for rent

 

To call through the ages

  —with a voice heaven sent

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

Only One 

 

There are many futures

  —but only one past

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

Your Souls Release

 

Can a phrase rule

  over a paragraph

 

Can the right word

  stand alone

 

Can a thought be held

  within one breath

 

Can the truth in short

  be known

 

Can you single out

  the future

 

Can you paraphrase

  the past

 

Can you release the hope

  inside a wish

 

Can you make this moment

  last

 

Can you keep the magic,

  the spell unbound

 

Can Apollo set you

  free

 

Can you say it while

  defying time

 

Can you voice your souls

  release

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

THIS ENDS BOOK (AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERCEPTION) #3

Introductory Poem to my new book...

(An Anthology Of Perception Vol. 3)

“I write the first draft
and paint the second

“But the third
—I get to sing”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania 2016)