Future Curiosity

A psychic, an authentic horror of the soul knowing
psychic, spoke of superficial occurrences, I already knew,
stopping short before something meaningful
was said.

She could have said that I will pay for goods with air,
that I will breathe without needing air, but instead
said there is nothing like life to take significance
from soul.
Shivers ran down my spine when she spoke of my guardian
angel, a man, that hangs out in fields, in the shadows of
bedrooms, that is always with me but never stops bad things
from happening.
She never told me about my darkest hour, she never told
me about my triumphs, she never told me anything of
much importance, but my curiosity might stop with one
more visit.
– L.J. Lenehan –
Future
The photo was captured by Gone-Hiking Photography:https://www.facebook.com/NatureThroughTheLens
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My Life’s Work

Born an American Poet, I was demoted
from my post, for not being enough
of a poet to pay my way.

I busy myself with daily routines:
cleaning, mothering, cooking, conforming,
out casted by traditional society.

Everyone knows I bake apple pies
with dough of insincerity
bored by tasks of futility.

My solitude grows, imprisoning
the creativity of my soul.
Grasped by clutches of anxiety

I linger in between the doings
daydreaming about a place of being
excited by life’s possibilities.

If I could escape the immersion
of my society filled with standards
and fears of just about everything

I might be able to create a poet,
not a professional one judged in
2012 by the bank account balance

but a poet that creates a life’s work
passing imagination as a legacy
worth leaving.

– L.J. Lenehan –

Former Me

Now, I have no preconceptions,
an image, of the former me, hangs crookedly
on the fireplace and window cill.
Each morning, I gaze at the image of the former me
and remember:

It was that specific revelation, of untruth,
that co-conspiratated my collapse.
So effortlessly, they set me up, to disappoint.
Time and time again, I tried, never knowing
I was knee deep in treachery.

Shocked by the sudden silence
of my formerly agitated soul,
I felt calm, for the first time.
A chunk of ore in a mine full of diamonds
the former me was simply over-looked.

– L.J. Lenehan –

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Highway of Life

The treasures of her life did not even fill the car
A bag of clothes
A sack full of cassette tapes
A Beatles tray from 1950

A Life Magazine featuring fifty years of Marylin Monroe
A stench of desire to find somewhere to belong
A life left behind less than normal
Wondering from behind the wheel about which path to choose
She hopes it will not be full of unsavory characters covered in madness
She hopes it will not be a simple existence without living or loving
She hopes it will not be full of love, understanding but lacking imagination
She hopes it will not be full of excess and over estimated ability
She hopes she will not be at the mercy of every emotion
She hopes she will find healing, unity and completion
There is a distinct absence of memories
No diary detailing the extravagance of life lived so far
No jewellery from her grandmother or mother
No figurines with charming stories of why they were bought
No hand written letters from past lovers
No pictures of her former life
No specific moment worth remembering
On the path to forgetting
She resolves to start a new biography
She resolves to no longer miser painful memories of youth
She resolves to torture herself with happy thoughts
She resolves to hold onto the things she never wants to lose
She resolves to sympathize with future friend’s sufferings and success
She resolves to live a life worth loving
She arrived magically
At a destination where it was enough to do her best
At a destination where the meaning of life is deep breaths after laughing hard
At a destination where other people’s happiness was not essential to her own
At a destination where what she thinks, says and does are in harmony
At a destination where politics have principle
At a destination where food, friendliness and cheer are traded commodities

– L.J. Lenehan –

Cobwebs remind me,
of everything,
that has happened,
that needs to be done,
that could happen,
that I’m waiting to find out.

Eight legged web spinners
vacant from the house,
every time I dust                                                                                                                   the constructions away,                                                                                                     they return, greyer, thicker,                                                                                             stickier.

Maybe I will learn to live with
the absent web spinners,
the present cobwebs,
that part of my life,
filled with fear and dust
that is now
over.

– L.J. Lenehan –

Showing the world
your inner beauty, contrasts
grandeur to sorrow.

– L.J. Lenehan –https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mohamed-khattab-Photography/325617900847680

Hallelujah

All that was left was hallelujah,
me, and that picture of the former you,
signed, by Arnold Schwarzenegger,
I didn’t cry.

They bustled in with Chinese food,
they made me eat with them,
I couldn’t tell them, didn’t know how,
I hoped they would hear the echoes of hallelujah.

It was deafening, distinct in the room,
suffocating,
and with one excuse me,
there they where, the screams of hallelujah.

I ate chicken curry,
hoped you might come back,
and save my soul,
or sing hallelujah for me.

They made me pray for you,
I didn’t mean it,
I didn’t cry, I never cried again,
but there were more tears of hallelujah.

– L.J. Lenehan –
https://www.facebook.com/HitchHikersHandbook
https://www.facebook.com/vagelis.pikoulas

 

A Million Moments

Luna sings an aria, in the Opera:
A Million Moments.

Fateful tragedies collected,

thrown though the luminous
night sky in anticipation,
of a new audition.

Composing a proclamation of caution
with Prima Dona Luna.

Her words muffle in the ears,
of the wretched,
leaving them defenceless,
against the antagonist.

– L.J. Lenehan –


Special thanks to Damien Stenson for this amazing photograph:https://www.facebook.com/DamienStensonPhotography

Even The Birds Knew

That day, when worlds
collided,
lip gloss was on sale.

Distracted with all
that was superficial,
you smoked ,
more than normal.

You always knew,
it was easier to ignore
the notion of sin,
than prepare another life.

You trusted God
would not reveal
the pain you caused.
Because the pious
would no longer
praise you.

He knew, you knew,
even the birds knew
there was something
wrong with you.

That the inner you,
would terrorize
structure.

– L.J. Lenehan –