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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  10/31/2014 9:28:09 PM
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  ALBERT AHEARN
 
 
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  249.     

Irony

The poplar trees stood like sentries
Standing on one leg in their green
Uniformed grandeur. Beyond their
Phalanx could be seen a stately
Manor whose imported marble
Pillars were more decorative
Than utile. Not unlike the sole
Inhabitant who lies dying
In his magnificent antique
Breton bed. He never married-
“I’m too busy for such nonsense.”
Consequently, no progeny,
No living relatives, no one
Only a dreadful eulogy:
Alone died a poor man, indeed!
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  250.     

Jealousy

People think jealousy normal.
I smile with tongue in cheek and say,
Of course, so is a square billiard ball.
This spurs in a well mannered way
A hot topic for discussion.
Firstly, you must be insecure
Thus an unhealthy condition,
Is this not true? And what is more:
An apprehensive frame of mind.
It being responsible for
Its intensity, unconfined,
Prevalence and the least explored.
In a phrase, ignorance is bliss
This is why jealousy exists.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  251.     

Journey Of My Soul

My soul has left my tired earthly shell
Guided by a holy hierophant.
We hover, moving, seemingly propelled
into a brilliant limbo Labyrinth:
A vaguely familiar and friendly place
An imperceptible spiritual sphere
entirely devoid of time and space.
My guide has often escorted me here
to this final after death tribunal.
She will as always present my defense
before the other hierophant panel
To determine previous moral sense
And worthy of another incarnate
journey’s quest to seek another soul mate.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  252.     

Judgment Day

We are but grains of sand in life’s hourglass
Plures inter plures waiting our turns
That slowly penetrates the narrowness
Of time ending all our worldly concerns.
The moment comes like a thief in the night:
Silently, stealthily, assuredly.
And in this sleep of death things are put right:
Our past dreams become bits of history:
Involuntary intervals of life
That had reflected our immortal souls
And there are never any two alike
Spirits on trial that will defend their roles.
In the end, though, we go our separate ways.
Some ascend while others will face the blaze.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn