Eric A. LohmanEric A. Lohman

Eric A. Lohman lives in Powder Springs, GA. He is a psychiatric social worker, composer, avid cyclist and poet. He works in the emergency department of a large urban medical center, evaluating and assisting the homeless, the chemically dependent and the chronically mentally ill. Much of his poetry reflects his response to and efforts to cope with that reality. He also composes music for orchestra as well as smaller ensembles and solo performance, toward similar ends. He has been active in performing and written arts for 35 years and holds a bachelor’s degree in musical theory and composition from Jacksonville University, Jacksonville, FL.


 

worn headstone . . .
none but the lichen
knows her name

Frogpond  Summer, 2019

swirling
to Stravinsky's Firebird . . .
autumn colors

Cattails  Spring, 2019

sequin dress -
the chain link fence
full of dew

Seashores Issue 2  Spring, 2019

second hand -
the ticking of mother's
mattress

Asahi Shimbun Spring, 2019

notions of the absolute green tea

Human/Kind 1.1  Winter, 2019

sunlight on leaves -
whatever my worries
the trees don't care

Under the Basho 2018

every second
a different painting . . .
sunrise

Hedgerow #125 Autumn, 2018

windscreen . . .
the world bent
in a raindrop

Stardust Haiku  Autumn, 2018

my grandchild
will live on another world . . .
endless summer

Presence 62 Autumn, 2018

bedtime story
the wind
in the pines

Seashores, Issue 1 Autumn, 2018

men's room
a butterfly
wanders in

Frogpond  41.3 Summer, 2018

umami . . .
the subtle notes
of a flugel horn

Hedgerow #124 Summer, 2018

fallen leaves . . .
we've had our moment
in the sun

Cattails, Spring, 2018

dropping her
at the airport
all this rain

Frameless Sky Spring, 2018

glass ceiling . . .
a mother orca breaches
the Puget Sound

Ephemerae  Vol.1 A  Spring, 2018

red maple -
the sweetness
of letting go

Presence  #59 Autumn, 2017

sex scene . . .
everything covered
in pollen

Cattails  Autumn, 2017

scattered snowflakes
here in a breath
gone in a breath

Cattails  Spring, 2017

autumn leaves
h ol e s
in my crayon box

The Mainichi, Oct. 2018