Albert Ahearn Poems

The status quo, Oh! How I hate that word.
It always summons to my mind a bleak
Condition. Something static; the absurd.
Incapable of change. A sluggish clique
...

Its December. Another year is just about over.
Standing in front of a mirror in a bathroom
Is a man. He gazes into the face looking back at him,
Combs his white hair with his fingers and then begins to muse:
...

As I ambled through a maze of stony monoliths
on a manicured green grassed carpet.
My sadden eyes were overwhelmed with myriad
names and dates of yesteryear's deceased.
...

In a subconscious state of mind
both real and unreal intertwine
and twist each others attributes
into dark Eidolon recruits.
...

The silent invisible thief
Of life indiscriminately
Creeps along, irreversibly
Filching tiny bits of precious
...

Towering concrete monoliths
Loom above seemingly mindless
Lemmings rushing, bumping, pushing
Their way in endless, moving lines
...

I need not a fine calendar
To identify the present month;
With all its entire splendor
Will not be found on a twelvemonth.
...

The television downstairs is blaring
“Americans don’t want National
Health-care” from the Fox network;
But there are no conservatives
...

I stare into the vastness of the sky
And wonder: who am I, really?
Am I the perceived notions of the
Curious eyes encountered: a figment
...

The rain is still coming down today
For gods sake! Will it ever
stop?
I’m sick to death of looming gray clouds
...