Albert Ahearn Poems

In everyone's existence certain sights
And sounds have more importance over all
Other things we occasioned. Some excite
Us more today than yesterday, Enthrall
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Tasty
sweet confection,
savored by young and old
alike, that satisfies one's own
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I composed this poem on the morning of Independence Day 2008.

July fourth and firecrackers aren't heard.
Perhaps because it’s raining as I type.
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I often sit and ponder many things
A host of multifarious subjects.
A few perhaps are shallow but they bring
Me food for thought. The balance is complex.
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This past week I lost two good friends. The one friend I lost to cancer. The poor guy suffered horribly. All through his ordeal his wife was by his bedside. I began to reflect on this and I tried to put myself in his place. What would I say? What would I think knowing I was about to die? Shortly after musing, I composed this sonnet.

Weep no tears for me at this time and place.
A thousand eyes change not my destiny.
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“The fate of individual human beings may not now be connected in a deep way with the rest of the universe, but the matter out of which each of us is made is intimately tied to the processes that occurred immense intervals of time and enormous distances in space away from us. Our Sun is a second- or third-generation star. All of the rocky and metallic materials we stand on, the iron in our blood, the calcium in our teeth, and the carbon in our genes were produced billions of years ago in the interiors of a red giant star. We are made of star-stuff.”

I am a scion of the Milky Way
Wholly unique to the highest degree
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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
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The sun was just above the horizon.
I thought, is the star rising or setting?
I’ll just lie here awhile; keep an eye on
It to see which way the fire is heading.
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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.
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The crisp cool wind is blowing in my face
Kenny G blowing “forever in love”
In my ears while trying to keep a pace
The blue, cloudless sky looming high above
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