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)