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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  11/29/2014 1:15:14 AM
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Home Delivery

The dark dinginess of the room
And its odoriferousness;
Obviously, it wasn’t broomed
In an age, the place was a mess.
The odor was suffocating
And it needed ventilation.
Unfit for a human being
and beyond my expectation.
“One lives in this filthy rat hole?
God! It’s an insult to a rat.
The center for disease control
wouldn’t enter this place.” She sat
alone, half naked from the waist
up on an overstuffed green chair
that’s when I got to see her face
and was totally unprepared.
“Umm! Madam, you ordered Chinese?
I rang the bell at least three times
and…” never mind that…sit down please! ’
“Sit? ” I asked. “I can’t. Its noontime
And I have four more deliveries
To make; perhaps some other time”,
I lied. Damn! I hate telling lies
But exiting called for a line
Regardless how outlandish.
I needed to buy extra time
to escape this kettle of fish.
“Madam that will be six dollars”
‘Six dollars, don’t you want a tip? ’
“Yes! ” trying to avoid her stare.
“I’ll come back after my last trip.”
She handed me the six. ‘See you! ’
Then I hurried out the door, “Phew! ”
Albert Ahearn




Mouth-watering Honeysuckle!
Your irresistible scent lures
Me to your tubular flowers
As you do the lone hummingbird
And moth and for the same reward:
To taste your abundant nectar.
Thousands of your golden flowers
Have quenched my springtime craving
For your flowery sweet liquid
Hidden deep within your dark spathe.
Once more I slowly extract your
Center stamen out through your scape
Dragging behind your small pistil
And the bead for my waiting tongue.
Albert Ahearn



I Cast No Shadow

Sun is high I cast no shadow
for few brief moments I am pure.
My soul enters Eden's meadow
where once stood my progenitor.
A sinless psyche reveling
in a pre-transgression garden
thoroughly chaste is my being.
But now a penumbra widens
and a darkness within me grows
my pure essence is repossessed
replaced with subjective sorrow;
spiritualness dispossessed
by a shadow of damnation
and light my only salvation.
Albert Ahearn



I don’t…but

It is simply shocking how a teeny
Conjunctive word, a tiny little but
Becomes precursor for the agony
Of some. I will explain exactly what
I mean. Case in point: Have you ever had
A conversation like the following?
The person talking says, “please don’t get mad,
I do not intend to hurt your feelings,
But“...then proceeds to do precisely what
He said he wouldn't do. Explanation?
It's ignorance! Instead of keeping shut
His haughty mouth, ending conversation
Continues hurting monologue uncut
Until your forced to say, you kiss my butt!
Albert Ahearn
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn