Casualty Of War
The stench of gasoline and gore
permeated the encampment.
I am a prisoner of war
And I’m held in a stinking tent
that I share with a gun toting
taliban soldier. His black eyes
staring intently and gloating
as though I were a trophy prize
whose head would soon hang on a stick
for all his turbaned insurgents
to pelt with stones and broken bricks.
I expect his malevolent
Nature to vent with certainty
which translates: it’s curtains for me!
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
For this I write
I write not for consensus sake
Why should I? People don’t partake
In my insights, designs and schemes
Nor inhabit my nightly dreams.
I write because it’s a passion
My own particular fashion.
Whether those enjoy what I write
Or find fault with it, that’s alright!
The satisfaction I receive
Is from the notions I conceive
Expressed in rhythmic poesy.
This from me is a guarantee:
When inspiration finds me home
I am sure to write a poem.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Displaced Loved One
A troubled youth gone for a year
Far from his family’s allure
For reasons that are still unclear
yet behooving that is for sure.
We hope his stay is suitable
for one so very young as he.
meager details but on the whole
we’re hoping with no guarantees.
A year may not seem long for some
But it is an eternity
For the foursome waiting at home
All anxious and downheartedly.
The shared grief is overbearing
Plucking at our fragile heartstrings.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sadness
We have a great deal of sadness
Pent-up inside our fragile selves
Bordering at times on madness-
unhealthy in and of itself.
You’d think we’d learn to deal with it.
No! We shelve it for another day
and indubitably admit
its return in myriad ways.
Sorrow assumes many faces
Far too many to cope with each
Leaving behind tiny traces
of memories and self reproach.
Human minds are the rub, the source.
Their forlorn heart’s, the driving force.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mundane Beauty
A cluster of Day Lilies glow
like embers beneath the shadow
of a time-worn Box elder tree
that's plainly visible to see
if looking for mundane beauty.
Their golden flowers so briefly
lived poses for a single day;
at days end they wither away.
Their presence always call to mind
that beauty last the briefest time
but I possess a memory
where beauty lives eternally.
Though they will die I'd soon exhume
I'd close my eyes they'd still be bloomed.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Letter
Walking barefoot on the noon shore
Oblivious of the combers
With their new metal detectors
Her head bowed low as if in prayer;
But at a closer look we see
That she is holding a letter.
Her grimaced face stared long at it;
Then dropped it on the glistening
Wet sand and stood there a moment
As the returning salty wave
Washed over its ink scripted words-
Words now lost forever in time.
Its message known only to her
And the blue eternalness sea.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Music Of The Spheres
The soft music rose gradually
Like smoke from a freshly doused fire.
I listened to it intently
And my inner voice enquired,
“Where is the source of this music?
I’m positive I am alone
And doubt if it’s some sort of trick
Played on me by some asinine drone”;
Couldn’t be, it’s absolutely
Heavenly sounding to my ears
With its timbre simplicity.
It must be music of the spheres
Inaudible except for me,
The wind, and the eternal sea.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Summer's End
Gone are the summer wildflowers
those many, subtle scented breaths
that once allured nectar seekers
and me to their wild colonies.
But now those lifeless peduncles
that once bore inflorescent blooms
decay amidst a grand graveyard
of myriad, deciduous dead.
Gone are the summertime players:
the honeybees and bumblebees,
butterflies and dragon flies
mulberries and elderberries;
brief were the roles each had played
in their own, spectacular way.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Truth Uncensored
To condemn the modern conflicts
like Vietnam, Afghanistan
and Iraq where there's no quick fix;
and countless deaths in no man's land
are still shamelessly occurring.
If one should speak out against them
those of us are charged as being
leftwing radicals and condemned
strongly as unpatriotic
a catchall word used to censor
opinion against quixotic
military pursuits and measures
that needlessly spill the lifeblood
of a nation based on falsehoods.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Deciduous Leaves
The xylem saps are heading south
like the majestic autumn sun,
deep down into their woody roots.
Soon deciduous leaves will die
and their exquisite lingering
dissolutions will manifest
tinctured, ephemeral beauty:
crimsons, oranges, yellows and greens
and all the subtle hues in between.
A sweet, earthy scent saturates
the cool, autumnal air we breathe.
Then one by one each leaf succumbs
to a gentle rain or zephyr
descending silently to earth.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!