lan Cohen photo

(Photo of Alan Cohen)




The most important things are the simplest

And must be learned as often as every day

I blame fear

But feel only lazy and disinclined, forgetful


When I close my eyes


They seem as near and obvious as toes

But then I donŐt want what I want

DonŐt want what I have

DonŐt want what I know, knew, expect to know


Must find another new path

Go back

And fix

What cannot be found, change, mean, grow, or be

Broken, recalled, forgotten




Losing Is Everything II


What remains obscure

Is a living body

It holds its destiny teeming within:

Colors, descants, perfumes implicit

Ripe and shimmering and warm


Immodesty prospers during life

Proffers itself a slice at a time

Its beauties products

Its romance fame

Spread thin, consumed, bones





The Mind


An instrument

We can only tune

By senseless instinct

With no notion


Of goal



Or capacity


To see congruence





To dock with circumstance



And transmit


Joy, longing

Sorrow, anger

Home, loss



No hint

No clue

No promise

No way


No word










The waitress brings our lunch

She is not a waitress

But a woman who works as a waitress


The music of the fountain

Soothes our ruffled spirits

We love the graceful water

How it flirts with gravity


We do not want to know about

The repulsion




Hidden in the stone

Like pipes in a building




Naming the Flowers, Birds and Trees Whose Names I Cannot Find or Recall


My life is two thirds over

I have no need of convention

ŇThat was to come later

When life had begun to go so fast

That accepting would take the place

Of knowing and believingÓ

—Faulkner, Light in August

Give them my name

No not mine

The names I choose for them


© Alan Cohen


Bio: Alan Cohen/Poet first/Then PCMD, teacher, manager/Living a full varied life/To optimize time and influence/Deferred publication, wrote/Average 3 poems a month/For 60 years/Beginning now to share some of my discoveries/Married to Anita 40 years/in Eugene, OR, these past 10 years