Fall again, nature’s efficiency satisfies me
with the consistency of sunsets I no longer watch
still I might like to see one more

the crisp air stinging my face
leaves crackling underfoot
air expanding in my lungs

feeling again, one last time
a regretful reeling of every mistake
every love misunderstood, every path not taken

the sensation of winter’s loss
sends a chill through my core
of the constant anticipation of spring.

-L.J. Lenehan-


For the First Time

On my path, it rains,
my dry skin moisturized.

For the first time, I stop,
observing the bend up the way,

inhaling the fragrant orchard bloom
I try to understand, how I never noticed

the bloom of thistles, water lilies,
dog rose, blue bells, dragonflies.

My steps are overwhelmed
by the need not to move, conflicted

by what lies up ahead, predators in between
lie each side in wait, to take:

my limbs, my children, my life.
I shake with the weight of my little chest

that holds within it a golden soul,
ready to shine.

-L.J. Lenehan-


Cuimhnigh orm

Glaonna an t-uisce dom
ó thíos an ghealach ar imní
Is féidir liom a chloisteáil macalla de hallelujah.

Pulls an aigéan mé isteach a rúin istigh
le práinne foréigneach,
Léim mé, ag snámh mé amach ar an bhfarraige.

Cad é fíor
tá a thuilleadh chreid
toisc go cuimhin aon duine dom,

mo bhaile folamh,
mo aghaidh featureless,
mo emptiness ar taispeáint,

i sochaí ina bhfuil mé dofheicthe.
An calma bhí le feiceáil go i dom,
tá dearmad,

an calma roimh an stoirm,
an calma roimh snamh mé,
an calma roimh a athrú mé isteach san fharraige

L.J. Ni Leanacháin

Happy St. Patrick’s Day… This is a monumental day for me because my blog has reached 5,000 followers… To celebrate the achievement and the day that is in it I have translated one of my poems into the Irish Language… Enjoy!

An Apathetic Generation

Stuck in waking nightmare, an apathetic generation
watches in silent opinion, as banks fail, jobs move to third worlds,
over-financed homes are handed back with ease.

Forty years before their parents protested in the streets,
for a better world, Malcolm X had a dream,
grandmother’s demanded the right for a vote.

Change the television channel, that tsunami never happened,
Yahoo bought Tumbler – children in the Philippines are displaced,
Iran keeps the right to enrich uranium – to keep the peace,

nuclear attack discussions incomplete, the G8 needed a break
to support small business day and the Millennium babies?
They remain bewildered by diversions in place to entertain

An apathetic generation.

-L.J. Lenehan-


an amnesia
in the woman I am meant to be
was hidden
when the tears of forbidden emotions
and extinguished my inner light
my mirror has no reflections
all I can see is the illusion of a life
all that was lived was a chaotic revenge
by anyone that ever loved me

-L.J. Lenehan-

unpleasantness housed in mammoth grey rains lost in forever
stories washed away, untold
in the new day

avant-garde oddballs wander aimlessly through hallways of horrors
hiding in circular rooms, resisting
the urge to be seen

memories of memories fill the space where broken dreams linger
waiting for orders of creation
to be upheld

-L.J. Lenehan-

stripped away
raw and bare
picked apart
broken beyond repair
flesh hangs in shards
toiling skeletons
busy, busy, busy, always busy
searching for easily stolen souls.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Sometimes A Sinner

October scurrilously arrives
habitually changing the landscape for the long freeze
a month I easily find ways to reincarnate my past
with spirits that fit in a glass.

Ireland’s heart reminds me
the only thing that really changed is me,
spontaneously, vocals from Lady Madonna burst out,
lyrics written for me before I was born.

Ten years ago – this city was full of hope,
I didn’t notice broken ankles in cobble stone paths,
lonely souls hope for chats under glowing lamps,
fortune tellers with lies I know about now.

Tears fall again, mine and the rest of the worlds,
nothing the city hasn’t washed away before
I’m an October saint sometimes a sinner, alone,
always alone in a world full of strangers.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Photo by:http://www.flickr.com/photos/oceanraider/3738127219/

3738127219_b159f20a2d_z (1)

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-



Walking, at the end of summer
through a quiet village,
like any other,
with talking windows,
cars slowly pass a homely church,
making the sign of a cross,
I stop outside
in blue skies
swarms of crows encircle me,
sending chills throughout my spine,
Blessed Mother Mary hovers ominously
over deafening echoes of aging souls
pleading forgiveness of misspent youths,
in the face of impending ends,
a glint of forgiveness,
eases aching consciences.

-L.J. Lenehan-