Nothing More (+2)

Not a student of Poetry,

  more a student of life

 

The words fell  before me,

  stepping-stones of delight

 

Not a student of Verse,

  but of musings inspired

 

My days withdrew inward,

  the years stoked and fired

 

Not a student of prose,

  but its lover the same

 

As words strung together,

  and called out my name

 

Not a Poet or Novelist,

  but a writer for sure

 

Verbal stepchild unnamed

  —asking for nothing more

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

The Future Writhes

 

Once truth is judged delusion,

 we choose the lesser of two lies

 

Abandoning that voice unheard,

 stillborn—a baby cries

 

The ideal in dark remission,

 all hope now cast in flames

 

Making bargains with the Devil

  —as the future writhes in pain

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

 

 

Arcs & Angles

 

Is randomness designed,

 can the dice roll more defined

 

Is entropy a map,

 less complex as time adapts

 

Can ignorance be renamed,

 as a home for knowledge gained

 

Can the circle then be squared

 —arcs and angles still to share

 

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: May, 2019)