Aloofness

From childhood I have not been as others
Were; I’ve not seen what others often see.
My passions spring from an alien mother
Where once I had swam in a serous sea.
I’m a stranger in this world called my home
Where all that I Love I have loved alone.
I can not awaken this heart of stone
Where emptiness thrives and nothing has grown.
The deep dark depths of this lone labyrinth
Lives a recluse withdrawn from those above
Encompassed and confined in defiance
Of, what those above call brotherly love.
Feel not pity nor scorn for aloofness
For what people cherish I never missed.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Shadow Is You

Young lady! Yes, You! , I’m talking to you!
What do you see looking in a mirror?
Do you see a pretty face as I do?
You do? You’re sure about that? Stand nearer
My dear and look into mascaraed eyes
In deeper, deeper still, into your soul.
Does beauty reign in that realm undisguised?
External beauty plays a minor role
In life. Now, my dear, stand back from the glass
See what’s behind you? No? It’s your shadow
A faceless non-irradiated mass
Devoid of beauty and class, this you know.
It has accompanied you from the start
While beauty waned your soul became its heart.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

When time began

Try to imagine our world without time
A timeless world that festers and rots;
But if some change no matter how brief
Could change this world and make a difference.
The “now” would be different than “before”
Indicative of the passing of time.
Thus time and change are related events
Because passing of time depends on change.
In our real world changes have never ceased
Some happen repeatedly some just once:
The breaking of waves against the seashore;
Or it’s a particular falling leaf.
When we first counted repeated changes
It was only then, friend, when time began.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Writer's Block

I found myself staring at a blank screen.
I was clueless as to why or how long.
It could have been a moment or fifteen
Minutes for all I know. I’m sure I'm wrong.
Nevertheless, this sort of thing happens
Now and then when I get this writer’s block.
It happens when expectations transcends
Inspiration. It’s like my mind is locked
In a thoughtless vault and my gray matter
Is scattered all over the freaking place.
In this mental state, everything's a blur:
Vacuum in an inter-cranial space.
At this particular moment in time
I’ve written nothing, at least the lines rhyme.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

First Snowfall

The last of autumn’s leaves begins assault
Of winter gales. The sap within the trees
In hibernating xylems call a halt
To most activity to some degree.
The birds that once resided amongst them
Already left for warmer spots unknown.
A few remain behind but are condemned
To weather winters snow and ice alone.
The snow begins to fall. At first, a flake,
Then more and more until the trees are white
And weighted. Branches, weak, begin to break
And fall to earth and soon are crowned despite
The slackened storm. The wind subsides and all
Is quiet and calmness follows the squall.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Brave the storm

Contemptuous clouds were looming largely.
Their overhead disdain exuded warm
phlegmatic drivel on me angrily.
Conspiring gales abet the raging storm
and thunderous claps reverberated
abusive oaths, some four-lettered words -Bang!
And boom! - resumed throughout the tempested
display. Below, I protested-harangued:
' I stand amidst your heavenly vengeance
composed and wet. Your threats of torrent might
impress the faint of heart. And if by chance
you see me tremble -not because of fright.
I shiver because I am cold my friend.
So Rain! Blow! Clap! I'll brave it till the end.'

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Eclipsed From Sleep

I am a man advanced in years
And for the most part need my sleep.
I’m usually in bed by nine
Not that I want to be abed;
You’ll find out if you live this long
That the mind is always younger
Than the body it occupies.
What this means is I’m often
forced to do things against my will.
Last night is a good example:
I wanted to see the eclipse
Of the moon beginning early
In the AM morning hours.
I struggled long to stay awake:
I sat in a comfortable chair
Anticipating the eclipse
With tired eyes through my window
Only to involuntary
Fall asleep and missed the damn thing.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Vision

In midst of Natures bounty I espied
Aside a stream, a gilded gleaming cage.
Its tenant was a lifeless bird inside.
Engrossed in thought in view of deaths image
I deemed the death from thirst beside water.
Within the cage were dual empty basins
The one for food, and of course, the other.
It’s like a wealthy man who’s locked within
His iron safe, amid his heaps of gold.
And perishing within this house of ease
Of hunger pangs and thirst as time unfolds.
Then suddenly a strangest vision seized
My weary eyes, the cage became the bones
Of Man, the bird, his prisoned heart of stone.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

D4 Or E4, That Is The Question

He sits across from me over a board
With checkered squares. He is white; I am black.
I need a win, him a draw. Can’t afford
To play prophylactically. Attack
Is my only chance to win this tourney.
Which leaves me with only one opening:
The Sicilian*. I only hope that he
Will play a hackneyed first move like a king
Pawn center thrust. Queen pawn creates problems
And he doesn’t need problems at this time.
I feel both moves favor me. It depends.
Playing queen pawn I think would undermine
His chances for a draw but then again
The king pawn move allows the Sicilian.

* 1. e4....c5

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Death to all.... Have fun!

I heard a song the other day; it strummed
A chord within, this way: The lyrics sung
Expressed that we convey a summed
Philosophy: Our days are numbered, son.
We're born to die and there's no warning light.
This is our fate, our expiration date.
So live your life as though your deaths tonight
The fullest that money can buy this late.
Tomorrow the sorrow of death might come
Despite being old or young. Beat the drum
And dance. Have fun! Laugh and sing, don't be glum.
We'll celebrate, it's never too late, hon
The parties begun, be not a mourner
Grim-reapers peeking around the corner.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!