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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  10/30/2014 10:10:32 AM
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  ALBERT AHEARN
 
 
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  265.     

lonesomeness

I am a stranger. My reclusiveness
And self-imposed lonesomeness in exile
Is severe. But yet in my aloneness
I contemplate an unknown charming isle
And this meditation surfeits my dreams
With specters of great and distant lands that
My eyes have never seen. Although it seems
I am a stranger with no welcome mat
To greet me from the crowd, I say within
Myself, what law has joined me with them?
I am a stranger to myself, wherein
I hear my tongue; my ears always condemns
My voice. I hear my inner self impart
Unknown interrogations of my heart.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  266.     

Lose some, win some

I’m sitting at my computer alone
Playing a lost game of literati
With a person absolutely unknown,
Thus not knowing if he’s a he or she,
Not that that matters to me anyway.
I enjoy the game because of the words.
I try to play a few games everyday
And hope to gain some wordy rewards.
Believe it or not it helps my poetry
Writing. After all, a poet can not
Write a line of verse without words, agree?
It’s kind of like powder minus the shot.
Well, the game is over and I did lose
But gained a word subsequently I’ll use.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  267.     

Love

Few people love; most know not love at all.
Their feelings of feigned affection wane
By any measure. Cupid never draws
His bow for those whose passions are in vain.
His quiver filled with strait loving arrows
Wings among Man to shoot and penetrate
The truest of hearts where amour does grow
To dwell and thrive within ardor soul mates.
Love has no boundaries and lives forever
Beyond the shuffling off our mortal shells
And thus remains in our souls with fervor
Until Cupid once again casts his spells.
So if by chance your heart has been smitten
Cherish this love that Venus has christened.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  268.     

Love Child

She was the consequence of lust
In a cheap room over a bar.
He remembered as though it were
yesterday. Her naive mother
Was only nineteen and single
at the time; him? He was married,
Separated and twenty-eight.
Below, in the bar, the jukebox
Was blaring an instrumental
Whose deep, bass guitar synchronized
with every copulating thrust.
The tune ended before the sex
And climaxed with a gestation
To Diana Ross’s “Love Child.”
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 
 
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
• angel poems
• 
beautiful poems
• 
death poems
• 
friend poems
• girl poems
• 
home poems
• 
hope poems
• 
kiss poems
• life poems
• 
loss poems
• 
love poems
• 
music poems
• nature poems
• 
rain poems
• 
school poems
• 
sex poems
• soldier poems
• 
summer poems
• 
sun poems
• 
war poems
 
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn