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Albert Ahearn Poem
Love once was the focus
of our lives
till marriage became contentious;
two sharp knives
piercing the heart of it,
killing it.
Teamed hardhearted misfits
dualistic
by nature, antipathetic
where love’s the casualty
and we, just another statistic.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2015
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Albert Ahearn Poem
I am a pacifist I despise war.
It’s the only thing I actually hate.
I’m never able to brace myself for
Diplomacy that deteriorates:
Recriminating dialogue amuck
That results in irrationality.
Adults become intellectual schmucks
Whose mentality in reality
Is equivalent to a chimpanzee
In spite of our advances in science.
Our mentality still swings from the trees
Where once apish self’s had claimed provenance.
We haven’t evolved from our ancient source
Thus war is likely a matter of course.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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Albert Ahearn Poem
If snowflakes set aflame the ground
They touch and wintry winds abet
The flames, would she and I this day
always remain deeply in love?
Yet snow is snow-it’s wet, it’s cold
Its frigid blanket lacks the warmth
That lover’s hearts depend and thrive;
It stifles, smothers all that grows
and extinguishes any fire.
Snow-flames are just a fantasy
An image conjured in my mind
But in my heart our love is true
In any world we two reside
inventible or otherwise.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2014
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Albert Ahearn Poem
It's 2 a.m. and for the life of me
I can’t sleep. Perhaps too many iced green
Teas. It doesn’t bother me you see
Not getting rest I mean, it’s the caffeine
That keeps me awake and I miss dreaming
Dreams that I turn into reality.
Those pleasant visions become the real thing:
A contrived visual modality.
Awake I’m between
A paradoxical dream
And veracity
In this state I know who I really am
Because I am the creator of them.
A fluid existence into this realm
Where all I dream is at my command.
The rules of conduct
Are for myself to decide
I’m the one in charge
Experiment with my thoughts and beliefs
with elaborated dream-scape motifs.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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Albert Ahearn Poem
In a subconscious state of mind
both real and unreal intertwine
and twist each others attributes
into dark Eidolon recruits.
These phantoms perform roles assigned
So well they trick the sleeping mind;
The scripts emerge from deep within
The brain where images begin
To shape and sound then orchestrate
Successive scenes the two conflate
Into involuntary schemes
The conscious human calls his dreams.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2010
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Albert Ahearn Poem
A brown-winged Lepidoptera alights
My sweaty hand and tentatively flaps
Its delicate wings in morning sunlight.
What seemed to me a long time was perhaps
A moment or two that it lingered there.
It unfurled its proboscis and began
To dab and suck a sweat bead with great care
Unaware that it was the broth of Man.
I watched its skittish profile while it supped:
Its unblinking compound eye, antennae
Feeling the ambient air while lapping up
The last of the bead, turned and looked at me.
I said, hello you little butterfly
It then took flight and I uttered… good-bye!
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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Albert Ahearn Poem
Many lovers’ kiss faded from my lips
Like summers early morning mist that dries
When timely sunrise first arrives outside
My windowpane. Can I rewrite the script
Of providence that’s handed me? Eclipse
Another, hardly. The Jekyll and Hyde
Reside in me: the good and bad divide
At first but then the worst bestirs and shifts.
A lover kisses Jekyll’s lips of wine
But soon the lovers tasting vinegar
When Hyde emerges every single time
To spoil the sweet-taste of love. Au revoir!
The final parting words that draws the line
When love dies never knowing who you are.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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Albert Ahearn Poem
This past week I lost two good friends. The one friend I lost to cancer. The poor guy
suffered horribly. All through his ordeal his wife was by his bedside. I began to reflect
on this and I tried to put myself in his place. What would I say? What would I think
knowing I was about to die? Shortly after I composed this sonnet.
Weep no tears for me at this time and place.
A thousand eyes change not my destiny.
All living things must die eventually
Except my love for you, which I embrace.
Feel not sad for me looking at my face
Although it's old and wrinkled you can see
A budding rose should age so gracefully.
My time grows near my love; in any case
Your life goes on nevertheless my love.
So wipe those eyes dry of life's mournful dew
And think not this time undeserving of.
Life had been kind, more so, finding you.
A lifelong companion envied above
By angels and cherubs alike. Adieu!
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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Albert Ahearn Poem
It’s surrealistic in what I see
In the most unlikely places, in fact.
Especially when unexpectedly
They appear before wearily eyes, abstract.
Was eating my usual cereal:
Shredded wheat with sliced ripen banana.
Staring back from my empty spoon revealed
A face, the ghost of my Marianna.
Startled, yet saddened, my head turned around
Expecting to see my wife’s lovely face.
Instead I had found a man with a frown
Mirroring back from a glass-door bookcase.
Her haunting visits, this angel of death
Will continue I guess till my last breath.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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Albert Ahearn Poem
All of us are born ignorant and some
Of us remain that way I'm sad to say.
The knowledgeable flourish and become
The shepherds, the dumb just piddle away
Their lives like sheep in a grassy pasture.
The ignorance in our society
Exists through our own design I am sure
To guarantee an apt propriety.
Without the sheep there can be no shepherds.
Therefore a symbiotic relation
Plays in the theater of the absurd.
There is no suitable explanation
Don't even attempt to state a notion.
Our roles are predetermined one by one.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
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