• Milton P. Ehrlich

Two poems


A LOYAL MENTEE THANKS HIS 3 MENTORS

Life is short.

The craft so long to learn.

Chaucer

Who taught him how to live—

the 2 Henrys— Miller and Thoreau,

and Lawrence Ferlinghetti, all advised:

See and hear everything new

as if you were a traveler from a distant star.

Brace yourself for falling in love,

the way a good horse opens its mouth

at the sight of the bit.

Only take a bus marked Not in Service.

Don’t be afraid to wear a sheepish grin.

Always fly one flag at half mast

for every loved one you lost.

Be kind to everyone you meet,

but reserve your deepest compassion

for painters who can only paint

with a brush between their teeth.

Never forget the taste of the crunch

of a Macoun apple on an October morning.

Avoid the snarling coyotes of the world,

they all reek of halitosis.

Apply for a job that doesn’t feel like work,

and then work as hard as you can.

Let nature take its course.

A LIVE MONITORING OF PASSERSBY ON GEARY BOULEVARD

Two men cling to each other madly in love.

Older man talksyounger one laughs.

Both adorned with silver crosses

glinting in rays of morning sunlight.

Could they be priests in civvies?

The laughing man suddenly weeps,

pleading, I’m unworthy of your love!

Holding hands looks too frustrating—

they must desire greater intimacy.

I monitor their walk and wonder

how well their love will endure.

I hope they will walk together

for miles, endless miles, in eternal spring.

Milton P. Ehrlich, Ph.D. is an 87-year old psychologist who has published many poems in periodicals such as: the Toronto Quarterly, Wisconsin Review, Mobius, The Chiron Review, Samsara, Blue Collar Review, Allegro Poetry Review, Naugatauk River Review, Taj Mahal Review, Poetica Magazine, Christian Science Monitor and the New York Times.


23 views

Recent Posts

See All

"Wait" by Raymond Byrnes

If you hope to see a deer in wet, leafless woods, do not look for deer within the woods. Gaze at the brown and grey expanse filled with shadows. Remain quiet, calm, and still. Absorb the silence, embr

Three poems by Kelley Jean White

Oak Bench Seat and back each a single 2” thick board, curved armrests at ends and mid-bench, Enfield, NH, c. 1830, 40″ at back, 33″ seat width, 18’ l. $16,800 I remember the tree. As a child I playe

From "Nocturnes" by J.T. Whitehead

Nocturne No. 11 She went to the clinic before the Sun came up, making day, before the protesters came out with the Sun, simple hunters, & not knowing which of those stars had died, so many years befor