Tuesday, February 28, 2017

School Day Dismay (From "Four Folded Corners")


To my son, David


I file my frayed edges
     my frazzled day,

gather you in my arms,
     my sweet baby boy,

when tears hang
     from your lashes.


By Mary E Lohan

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Election Day: The Surprise Victory of Donald J. Trump -- A Trump Presidency Poem


We have come on foot
from far away to be heard --
men, women, young, old
some with children and toddlers
          in tow,

to say our piece in peace,

Alas, the shadow government grows,
for years left unchecked,
and the media has warped
into a self-consumed defect,

Who are we?

Store owners, teachers,
miners of the Rust Belt,
priests and preachers,

people of faith,
of color,
children of the "wretched"
who came through Ellis,

deplorables
of varying age,
legal and some
once illegal,
we check off:
"Human Race"

Our vote is
our protest march,
and our voices
will be heard --

Our states can no longer sustain
the ills befallen us, 
the aims of self interests 
leaching this great nation,
The blights must be treated,
The enemies of this great Republic defeated,
And the burdens 
of this nation set free. 


By Mary E. Lohan

Photo: A Trump/Pence sign stands along Interstate 70 outside the shuttered Stanley Mines Company building in Idaho Springs, Colorado.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Fire Escape - A Poem (From "Speaking to the Darkness")


From this metal perch
pigeons circle overhead,
the Brooklyn sun
blazing, baking
tenement walls,
melting rooftops
to goo,

this, my balcony,
where I read novels
after school, my feet
dangling through bars,
three stories from earth,
-- part of the sky

the rumble of
the L train stirs
periodically, the snore
of a giant
asleep beneath me

no bird song -- simply
the whirs and sirens,
the shouts of dinner
out windows

accompanied by
the gentle sway
of working class clothes
strung from lines --

celebrating liberation
from life's routine.

By Mary E. Lohan

Photograph by John Albok

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Contemplation - A Poem


To do or not do,
the decision tree
grows...

to some
choices are few,
fettered by angst
of loss weighed
heavily

to others
choices abound
with derivatives,
loss is realistic,
offset by gain.

This world has
no balance sheet,
an accounting in the end
may survive --

it's the chance you take,
that's just life.

By Mary E. Lohan 

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Cursory Nefarious Network (CNN) - A Trump Presidency Poem

Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one. - AJ Liebling

World stage
curtains open

and enter,
the Puppeteers

lavishly coiffed,
a pageant show.

Teleprompters on
the script begins,

"Live!"

The arms and legs jump,
heads bob to and fro --

as we watch these
modern day Pinocchios

The crowd knows only
what they wish to portray,

"Believe!.. Believe!"

We are a puppetland,
     if we too listen
and move to their command.


By Mary E. Lohan 

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Turbulence - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")


Those were turbulent days
     like ships on scrambled waves
we crashed and swayed --
     drifted

Til in the orange tint of morn'
     with labored breath
we were reborn --
    until dusk

But the blues and greys of night
     begged insight as I redressed
redid, relit the silent inner fight --
     I submit,

You held the string to my flight,
     I was your kite. 


By Mary E. Lohan

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Ageism - A Poem (From "Two of Cups: A NY Poet in Galway")


On some days
     I am an age,
And yet it matters not
     to trees, clouds, cats

It's simply a way
     to discriminate,
longevity from brevity

Age guarantees naught.

By Mary E. Lohan

Friday, February 17, 2017

You at Two - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")


To my son, Dillon

Oh, your inventory of smiles --

your crinkley-eyed smile,
your curling ribbon smile,
your 'uh-oh' smile,

Your head sandwiched in the 'fridge
watching the light
go on 
and 
off.

By Mary E. Lohan 

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Crush - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")

All is hushed
transient

Time becomes
the beat of your lips
speaking

There are no words
just your smile

I understand now --
Pain is pleasure,
Pleasure is plain

Keep speaking
and I'll try,
not to fall into your eyes.

By Mary E. Lohan

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Love - A Poem (From "Two of Cups: A NY Poet in Galway")



Love is not
a diamond
a display
a wedding

Love is not
two becoming one
a perfect fit
all of the time

Love is
a pure expression
so utterly simplistic --

Love is kind.

By Mary E. Lohan

(Book artwork of "Two of Cups: A New York Poet in Galway" by Thomas Sheridan)

Monday, February 13, 2017

Summery Day - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")

A tribute to summer and those fab beach days

Across the deck,
I lie splayed --
an upturned star

a squinty-eyed face
gazing at a brilliant,
baby blue sea

umbrellas flutter
nearby, like sting rays
or pulsing jellies

this inverted world

I wish
to be a fish
in this fluid

summery day,
where I'd ever so slowly
swim away.

By Mary E. Lohan

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Mary E. Lohan~Poetry: Epoch - A Poem

Mary E. Lohan~Poetry: Epoch - A Poem: Time has a way of skimming       souls, exposing the raw wracked and burdened a way of humbling egos, slowly withering to a self ...

Epoch - A Poem


Time has a way of skimming
      souls, exposing the raw
wracked and burdened

a way of humbling egos,

slowly withering to a self
barely recognizable
except when smiling

hulling like a plane,
thinly
      surfacing a ship-wrecked
past of heart-laden words
laying upon rocks, forever
stranded

baring the wounded driver
careening down one way streets
that leads back to alleyways
of perpetual dead-endedness

the mermaids call, and as in old,
the sailors heed and are lead to doom,
desolation and despair,

Time has a way of tolling,

of moving you closer than farther
as you float to and fro,

of awakening you to the
potential of promise,

and as each day passes,
what ceases to be.

By Mary E. Lohan

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Trump Inauguration Jan 20, 2017 - A Trump Presidency Poem


"When you open your heart to Patriotism, there is no room for prejudice."
- President Donald J. Trump


We have come
the under-estimated, forgotten,
      awakened,
to bear witness before Lincoln

a nation rebirthing

under a pyrotechnic display
on this, our most hallowed
national ground,

where walked our
fore fathers --
the tempo builds

amid fanfare
trumpeting a new day
of Patriotism,

standing shoulder
to shoulder
one country, all citizens,
shall rise.


Flick - A Poem

Too tired
to write
to a flea.

By Mary E. Lohan

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Times Square Commute, NYC (2015) - A Poem


8 am
"Yesterday" on violin
plays

commuters, tourists,
the homeless,

we walk through
tunnels
some shuffle,
meander,

you would think
there are only two
directions
in which to walk

yet, some pause,
creating no direction --
lingering

here in the belly
of the city
mindless,

we push on
eager to reach
some place

mindless,
we cut ahead
squeeze into
closing doors --

leaving the music
behind.

By Mary E. Lohan

Note: Susan Keser is the violinist who I refer to. I've linked to one of her videos above, and here as well.