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Poems of Life

A local poet shares his writings based on real life.

Mountain Magic

April 27th, 2010 at 7:20 pm by Ed Corrigan
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Mountain Magic


The mountain moves into my soul

Turns me inside out

Makes me whole.


The mountain surrounds, embraces

Making me inseparable

From its flowers, clouds.

Above, below, beyond, within

The mountain links life.


I arise from the mountain

Fuse with its forest

Life springs from its side

Death feeds its new beginnings.



Copyright © Ed Corrigan 2010

All rights reserved


The Storm

April 21st, 2010 at 7:47 pm by Ed Corrigan
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The night is cold, the fire is warm

outside the winds are swirling

the leaves of the maples are dancing

the branches of the maples are rat…tat…tatting

against windows and walls

these are only small signs yet of the gathering storm.

 In our place of comfort and safety

the fire is crackling, popping, brightening our eyes and hearts.

The fire is warming our hands and feet.

We huddle under blanket forts

covering heads, arms, shoulders

so that we must turn sideways to peek out and speak

whispering for no apparent reason.

We sit still and listen…

Here it comes…

The thunder is rolling, crackling, rumbling…

The lightening exploding, dazzling, frightening…

And the rain, the cool, cool rain.

We shudder under its fierceness

as the windows are rattled but not broken.

A shrieking noise makes us uneasy but untouched.

The lightening blinds our perception

which has been clouded since inception.

We hear the rain on the roof and sideways against the windows

pitter patter   ping ping   plip plip   plop…

incessant and drop by drop

the rain’s rythm is spectacular in its own way.

In our small safe place, we remain dry and unmolested

only in our minds is the storm creating its havoc.



The storm passes at last.

We are unharmed and warmed in our hideaway.

No more reason to worry

the wind is blowing the storm out to sea

leaving behind you and me, intact but sideways, unsettled.

The wind turns warm, taking the clouds, the rain

out to the deep ocean blue

filled with salmon and whales who welcome the storm

as if its one of their own

having waited patiently for months, years.

The whales, the salmon swimming in stride

below the sea and waves, untouched but not unaffected

by the world above

as one, with the world below

as if…all is…as its…meant to be.

 Back on the shore we finish our huddling ways

and wander out into the night

a night filled with stars, moon and shadows.

The birds barely stir, the squirrels soundly sleep

and make no notice of our passing.

We walk hand in hand under the stars and skies washed spotless clean -

stars, moon, air is shining.

We breathe in the clean air at no cost to self or the other.

We walk not in turmoil but not at peace.




Remnants of the storm remain surely to be barely seen

under the crescent moon by these dilapidated eyes.

Remnants of the storm remain in pulsating hearts,

tattered and mended hearts,

but mostly in our scattered and random thoughts. 

The truth is that a moment in time leads to another

then blurrs to another

until the past is no more and the future is always  soon to be.

We are just passing through the present

desperately grasping at what is or is not.

For the salmon and whales in the sea

for the birds and squirrels in the tree

and yes, for you and me

the storm is as it was and always will be.

Cold, hot or warm, it moves through our lives and time

past days uncounted and nights yet to come.

The storm comes to us and through us

leaving only remnants of its passing.


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About Ed Corrigan

I am Ed Corrigan and live in Maple Valley with my wife, Nona. We have two terrific sons - Joe and Tim - and three beautiful daughters - Kate, Sally and Sarah - and one cat named Omega. I've been writing poetry, on and off, since 16 years of age. Early poetic influences were Shakespeare and e. e. cummins. A more recent influence is Walt Whitman whose "Leaves of Grass" is the most amazing thing that I've ever read. Music has been very important in my writing and in life. I am not a musician but early on the singer/song writers Paul Simon, Smokey Robinson and Bob Dylan had a big impact on my poems. More recently, I've been affected by Miles Davis, Green Day, Alanis Morissette, Linkin Park and others. I love to write and its something that I need to do. A poet once said that a poem is not complete until its read or heard by another. Thank you for visiting my blog.

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