Elephant Girl

My heart, the elephant
of my fate, broken and painful
stumbling through this journey,

without a herd,
without compassion,
without a lover,

I walk through hot coals laid for me
by you, singing my skin, you stare,
until I burn, you turn and go.

But I am the strength
I need in your aftermath
to rise again.

-L.J. Lenehan

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Benevolent Gesture

All my fears of yesteryear play out today
on the eve of another New Year
replays of resurrections stain my brain

what a grim day filled with pressures
of promises to make, changes that must last,
there is no newness, there is only now

of resolutions I cannot speak, I cannot know
I have no guarantees that I might be lucky enough
to survive another three hundred and sixty five

but I wish my hours to be measured in kindness
my seconds to be filled with compassion
my life to serve as a benevolent gesture

to those I know, to those I love.

-L.J. Lenehan-
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A Stranger’s Sorrow

I exist in the shadows of empathy,
where compassion floods my soul
feeling the pain of all who are near
because I have no peace
in the presence of a stranger’s sorrow.

I find myself in an outdoor cinema,
with individual’s inner battles on display,
I am preoccupied with the judgements
that compound their sorrowfulness.

Suddenly and purposefully I mourn,
I mourn not for myself
but for a world full of people
that cannot find each other in plain sight.

-L.J. Lenehan-

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Apocalypse And A Pebble Shore

Immobilised, on a freshly cut church ground
views of an apocalypse and a pebble shore
appear simultaneously.

Grey skies, broken windows,
fragranced seaweed,
seven trumpets wailing

revealing secrets
from the end of time
hidden in murmurs,

universal truths
grandiosely exposed
for my lifetime.

-L.J. Lenehan-

1979 Cadillac DeVille

Grey, silver lucidly swirling clouds, display
a premonition of my death. Urgently, calling
me home to remember my dreams.

Innocent dreams of youth I foolishly
locked in the trunk of my impounded
1979 Cadillac DeVille.

Faded metallic green with a stale smell
of other people’s lives. Her breaks didn’t work.
Sun burnt interior thinned her original material.

One hundred and eighty horses underneath
her hood. I slowed down before I started her up
just in case she would not stop.

Many a hot day spent behind her wheel sipping
ice coffees and dreaming of my own
immortality. Moving on:

I went to Ireland, she went to the breakers,
now my youthful dreams are locked
in an Arizona inferno eternally.

-L.J. Lenehan-

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Winter’s Crescent-Moon

Intrigued by the bright star
of the winter’s crescent-moon.
My heart hopes: for a less
contemporary annual design.

Something simple, something
without pain, something far away
from my corridor of horrors.

Listening intently, I imagine
comforting songs of night,
sung in the stars light, by
consolatory Saints.

A song of understanding,
A song of all that is good,
A song of all that is meant to be.

Humbled by nature’s way of
showing life is not all melancholy,
there is serenity before we disappear,
if we choose to see.

– L.J. Lenehan –

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1920’s Morning Purgatory

Driving in a heavy blue fog I may have disappeared

with no birds, no cars, no dogs a distinct absence of life

 

I wonder is this a sort of purgatory, a tree lined purgatory

filled with the world’s unanswerable tormented worries

 

I cannot be sure I am not already dead, oh what a hell

to drive forever in the shadows of a state of grace

 

The life I lived seems like nothing more than a short

vivid experience, some joy, some pain, a lot of boredom

 

Judgement, I suddenly have a sense of right and wrong

as black and white as a 1920’s morning newspaper

– L.J. Lenehan –

Photograph by: https://www.facebook.com/FrBrinksPhotography

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