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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  2/27/2015 3:08:59 PM
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We are a greedy species more or less
Desiring more than needed frequently.
If something free presents itself, excess
Increases often exponentially.
Instead of taking one or two and leave
The rest behind, avaricious nature
Impels us, take it all! And thus believes,
It’s mine! To Hell with those that follow, your
Misfortune is not my regard. Myself
Is all that matters so what's mine is mine.
Though lacking scruples in and of itself
Becomes a selfish brute, his own design.
Beware! Of egocentric avarice
Your entry into heaven might be missed.
Albert Ahearn



Green Banana’s

A time is reached in life if one remains
Alive to tell the tale: those certain things
He once performed routinely, ascertains
The notion, habits must desist which brings
About awareness: His mortality.
Employment ends; Retirement is here.
The monthly saving wanes. Frugality
submits to lavish tastes. The thirty year
Installment loan is paid. But now he’s glum.
He now forbears purchasing bananas
That are unripe for fear his death may come
before they ripen. Shakespeariana
Unfolding: Final act that yields a frown:
The man’s demise, they ring the curtain down.
Albert Ahearn




It's Halloween again! The moon is high
And waxing. The night is calm and darkness
Predominates everything. Some clouds try
In vain to quench the lunar fluorescence.
Below, a ray of light exposes weird
And freakish happenings, surreal things!
A quiet crowd of ghoulish kids appear.
Impressive costumes make the evening
An apropos success. The parents walk
Behind the throng of hideous creatures
As each approach the lighted doors to knock.
The townspeople behind their doors are sure
To answer every rap with something sweet
When little voices bellow, trick or treat!
Albert Ahearn



Hallowmas Eve

He stood erect, still and silent
like a wax museum figure
in an inconspicuous nook
hidden in nocturnal darkness.
His long, needlelike canines gleamed
in the moons ebbing subdued light.
Blood red fleshy folds encompassed
these parasitic instruments.
Two grand, black, membranous wings hung
close to his sides, down to his feet.
On a sudden, voices were heard
Trick-or-treaters were approaching,
nearing his ambush location.
With anxious anticipation
his webbed wings began to quiver.
Albert Ahearn
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
• angel poems
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• life poems
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn