Saturday, 25 July 2015

Yowling

Ed's wife found a sinkhole
in the yard a year ago
a foot wide, several feet deep

and she wanted it filled.
No problem said Ed.
The sinkhole is hidden 

behind a big bush 
next to their garage. 
Sometimes a feral cat, 

good as its eyes may be,
falls into the hole at night,
never to come out.

The yowling can go on
longer than a week.
Neighbors around 

Ed’s stockade fence 
ask where the yowling
is coming from and Ed 

asks them if they
have a cat in heat.
They always say no

and the questions stop.
Meanwhile, feral cats, 
once a plague in Ed's yard,

no longer crouch
in the foliage and leap 
to pluck robins and 

cardinals out of the air.
Birds can worship now
at Ed’s suet and feeders, 

wipe their beaks in peace,
serenaded at times
by the yowling.


Donal Mahoney


donalmahoney@charter.net
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, USA and has had poems published Ancient Heart Magazine and other publications in the United States, Europe, Asia and Africa. 

Thursday, 2 July 2015

Skylight

Streaming above
is the bold news
of a new time,
restless we rise
to waking life,
visions of heaven
floating above us.

JD DeHart

DeHart is a writer and teacher from Tennessee. 
His blog is spinrockreader.blogspot.com 

Thursday, 18 June 2015

Hold Out

Morning glories
bravely blooming
on my terrace
despite chill wind,
blossom all day
stubbornly denying

end of summer.

Gary Beck

New York,

Wednesday, 10 June 2015

Tension

Anger and fear,
Fermenting into a compote of love and lust,
Stress gets the best of us all.
The further we sink,
The further we fall.

After the act,
The words that you cannot take back now become rust.
Forever fact after it all.
The more that we felt,
The more that they saw.

Ron Thatcher

Ron Thatcher lives in Cincinnati, Ohio, in the US.
He can be contacted at aaronthatcherwccc@gmail.com 

Friday, 5 June 2015

Maybe They’ll Take a Lunch

Jack says God doesn't exist.
No one has ever seen him.
God says Jack exists and
He can’t wait to meet him.



Donal Mahoney

donalmahoney@charter.net
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, USA and has had poems published Ancient Heart Magazine and other publications in the United States, Europe, Asia and Africa. 

Monday, 11 May 2015

In Certain Matters of the Heart

It's a matter of the heart,
the doctor says, 
and he can fix it 
with catheter ablation. 
"It works miracles," he says, 
"in certain matters of the heart."

He's been a cardiologist for years.
"Take my word for it," he says.
"You'll be sedated. Won't feel a thing."

No excavation in my chest, either. 
Instead, he'll make little holes 
in my groin and snake tiny wires 
to the surface of my heart 
and kill the current that makes 

my heart race like a hare 
at times and mope 
like a turtle other times.
He's never lost a patient.
"You'll be fine," he says. 
"Trust me."

Nine out of 10 ablations work.
I'll save hundreds a month, he says, 
on medications. No more Multaq. 
No more Cardizem. And I'll never 
have to wear a heart monitor again.

"Shall we give it a try?" he asks.
"I've got an opening 
two weeks from Monday.
It's an outpatient procedure.
You'll go home the same day,
rest for a week and then resume
your usual activities, even bowling.
Do you like bowling? My nurses do.
I prefer woodcarving."

"Okay, Doc," I tell him. 
"I'll give it a try, but tell me, 
where were you 40 years ago 
when the kids were small
and I was young, like a bull, 
and a different matter of the heart
dropped me like a bullet.
Are you sure my heart's still ticking?
Where's your stethoscope?
I haven't felt a thing in years."


Donal Mahoney
donalmahoney@charter.net
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, USA and has had poems published Ancient Heart Magazine and other publications in the United States, Europe, Asia and Africa.