High Noon (+6)

The sharper the point,

  the deeper the wound

 

The shorter the verse

  —the truth at high-noon 

 

 (Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

 

 

Dylan Is Gone

 

Dying alone on foreign ground,

death grips his blessed hand

 

Never choosing time or place,

 method certain

—the Angels plan

 

An oak to fall on alien soil,

all seeds to heaven thrown

 

His words cast free to light the dark,

that ‘Good Night’

—now his own

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

 

 

 

The Garden Wall

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

the questions loom

—the answers small

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

the past retreats

—the future falls

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

a distant voice

—your name beyond

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

a minstrel plays

—forgotten songs

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

Lot’s wife is dead

—not looking back

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

the top in sight

—the beanstalk jacked

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

I reach across

—all fear behind

 

Climbing up the garden wall,

horizons new

—the choices mine

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017) 

 

 

Politics

 

Never about

 what’s ‘right’

 

Only what’s ‘right’

—for you

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

 

 

Your Song Has Sung

 

Can you write in spite of comment,

can your soul withstand the pain

 

Can you free those words hid deepest,

can you shoulder all the blame

 

Can your heart and mind together,

walk arm in arm as one

 

Can you take a breath once finished,

knowing now

—your song has sung

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

 

 

Truth Renamed

 

Adversity’s Twins,

friend or foe

 

One to run from,

and one to know

 

Their dress Identic,

fame or blame

 

Accepted—Rejected,

truth renamed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

 

 

Forgiveness For Less

 

I never read it,

the way it was written

 

I never wrote it,

the way it should read

 

The lines connected,

were for me to be broken

 

A lesson once ending,

is where I began

 

I spoke out of time,

out of place…out of line

 

I wrote what I saw,

once the future was gone

 

I prided myself,

in a vision self nurtured

 

Asking permission for nothing

—and forgiveness for less

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)