Albert Ahearn Poems

I wrote this childish poem for a group of fourth graders during the month of April 2008 in celebration of National poetry month.

A butterfly alighted gently on a flower.
Along came a honeybee that had the same desire.
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The following, it seems, happens almost every other day in the occupied territories of the left bank, Iraq and Afghanistan.

Summer sights so seemingly serene, yet
Beneath this fraudulent facade, the day
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The practice of professing beliefs that one does not hold or possess.

Pro-lifers are a band of hypocrites.
Profess that fetuses and embryos
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Little
Bright, yellow heads
Despised not for beauty.
That are here, there and everywhere
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Conceived a king amid a war, within
The age of Pisces. Newest moon began
The term of human being gestation
The hope of mankind, and savior of Man.
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Recently, I read Kahil Gibran’s prose' The Criminal”. I have read it at least two other times in the past but this recent read had effected me more so than the past reads. So much so, that I was inspired to write this sonnet not too long after I put the book down.
In Gibran’s prose the man from the beginning was poor. How he winds up, to me, at least seemed fated.
In my sonnet, in the first quatrain I added the God Moros (God Of Destiny) to build on my theme (Fate)
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Nothing pisses me off the most
than two Tom cats upon a post
tirelessly, persistently, crying
at three o'clock in the early morning.
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The sun was shinning and no cloud cover
Was in view. Few cars this early traversed
The road making my ride decidedly
Safer and serene. I couldn’t contrive
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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
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Commenced
as a tiny
egg glued to foliage.
Maturing bondage in a shell
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