Michael Mahan:
CLASS OF 1971
Haddon Heights High SchoolClass of 1971
Haddon heights, NJ
pa. state uClass of 1975
University park, PA
Woodland Middle SchoolClass of 1967
Barrington, NJ
Seabrook Elementary SchoolClass of 1967
Seabrook, NJ
Norma Elementary SchoolClass of 1967
Norma, NJ
Michael's Story
Life and a poem
I have two estranged daughters from my first marriage. I may have a granddaughter, but nobody will tell me. I also have three grown stepsons and six step-grandsons from my second marriage. You learn from your mistakes, and I am very happy in my marriage to MaryEllen.
You may recall my love of music, especially in non-commercial areas. I now own over 13,000 records and CDs, over 1,000 videos and DVDs. I currently enjoy a wide range of music from goth/industrial to new age to traditional Irish to jazz. Easier to ask what I don't like than to ask what I do like. Alot of this stems from 17 years of work in college and community radio. Worked on WXPN in Philly for 12 years before their format change. Did Diaspar (mix of fusion, jazz, electronic, punk, classical, avant-garde, world music, psychedelia, blues, etc.) Star's End (electronic and new age), Directions in Music (avant-garde), and Mosaic (free form).
To be more specific, music has always been a salvation and a refuge for me, A friend, Through the hell of my life, I have always had music to shelter and comfort me, to inspire and challenge me, To help me through it all and to somehow rise above it. I've gone dancing at punk clubs, sung in a band, worked in radio, interviewed musicians and even worked for a record label.
Also have written over 1,300 record reviews for various magazines, although I am now active only on-line at Facebook on my pages.
Am also a prolific poet, with over 400 pieces. It is a dream to someday be published.
Hated high school, enjoyed some wild times at college although I didn't learn that much.
Career-wise, I went into microbiology in college and got into quality assurance in my career. Most of those years were spent in food safety and quality assurance in the food industry: meats, poultry, sauces, breads and bagels
Interested in hearing from old friends, and in better understanding old enemies.
Like old hippies, I believe in the power of love. In fact, I believe God is Love Incarnate. God is the source of Love. Jesus was a great teacher, who changed God from being a tribal god of war and retribution into being a universal God of Love and Peace. I don't believe Jesus was the son of God. But he was a messenger of Peace, Love, Acceptance and proof of an Afterlife.
I know Love is real. The love of MaryEllen, my second wife, has saved me from being a bitter, sad, angry and heartbroken old man. She brought me out of the depths of my bipolar disorder and accepted me despite all my flaws. And through her, I learned to do the same. And much...Expand for more
to my surprise, it came easily. The first 45 years of my life were not good, but the last 26 years have proven to me the power of true love. To receive without question, and to give without hesitation.
As us old hippies used to say, "Keep the faith". I hope that, in your own individual way, you've all managed to keep yours. I know that despite a hard life, I've managed to keep mine. I've endured (and continue to endure) bipolarism, Tourette Syndrome, and OCD; so, you can work your way through whatever life throws at you.
To Maryellen (53) ; a love poem in five movements (Parts 1 and 2)
The moment, the vision, the beauty of you
A face unique surrounded by, as it were,
Cascades of red curls; eyes worth
Sinking into and lips that smiled:
“Look no further, I am the one!”
The first time I you saw,
Love at first talk
And I thank the mountains for you
The beating pulse, blood racing
From the source to the extreme reaches
Of touch:
Touching you, feeling you, your face, your hair,
The caress of fingers moistly carving
My skin:
The skin of my body holding you, embracing you,
Facing you, erasing all pain: now gone, the remnants of
A poem:
A poem rhyming with the beat of a heart,
My heart throbbing faster at the touch
Of my skin against your skin:
And I thank the forests for you
To Maryellen (Parts 3 and 4)
Skyrockets exploding bright white light into night
Into moist caves surrounded by brown bulging tulips
By teeth and by tongue, by the bursting of now,
The sensation of wow
Two bodies initial collide, then gently they glide
Eventually slide into inside
A mingling of moist of caress and of when
Must these moments end
The foam cascading down ravines into the tight below
And one two forever temporarily conjoined
Together face to face below head they embrace
And ever the taste never erase
These moments savored so special
And I thank the oceans for you
And after the vision, the glowing, the knowing
The beating repeating, touch upon touch
Skin upon skin, the poem recited
Line upon line, liquid into liquid
The waves crash upon the rocks
Leaving two figures upon the sand
Each holding a hand
And in their chests a feeling of floating
Looking locked into each other’s eyes
Beauty seen each the other
And I thank the skies for you
To Maryellen (53) Part Five
Two souls entering bodily chambers of When and If
Temporarily be and be seen
Never apart in between
Together even on opposite sides of the world
Nullified the existence of Maybe
Entwined the essence of Yes
And Now and Always
And I thank the Lord for you
MC Mahan
5/20/2020
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