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John F McCullagh Jul 2018
By all accounts he’s had a lifelong case of OCD.
“Donald was a disruptive tyke”- his teachers all agree.
He was not much of a scholar but, as a youth, excelled in sports.
As a builder and developer he was often seen in  Courts.

When it comes to matters of the heart, he sadly is no wiser
He loves them and he leaves them. He’s a noted womanizer.
Oh, he pays them for their trouble; that much I will allow.
Still he’s never had compunction over breaking wedding vows.

Now he is our President and making noise on Trade.
If he doesn’t get his way beware his twitterverse tirade.
He's paying  farmers Billions  to forgo their tillage.


Hillary was wrong- It takes a child to raze a village.
From a clever bon mot from my Facebook amigo Maryann Kelly
John F McCullagh Jul 2018
There is a mountain we all must climb.
Some  scale up quickly, most take more time
There are many paths to the top you see
and you cannot choose my path for me.
It's an arduous task to reach the peak,
much harder still if you are weak.
As you clamber up high you'll find
crushed bodies that Life has left behind.
Most of these failures had never known
you do not have to climb alone.
We need each other, I've found it true
to achieve the heights and enjoy the view.
Then, like a child, to say "Again"
when we have reached our jouney's end.
John F McCullagh Jul 2018
I lay down on my living room floor
Convinced that the world would end.
A crisis off Cuba with missiles  enroute.
Yes, I am a Child of Then.

A lady in pink with blood on her dress.
A President shot in the head.
I remember where I was exactly that day
for I am a Child of Then.

Police battle Blacks, Watts is in flames
Protests rage on without end.
King is dead at the hand of a bigoted man
Yes, I am a Child of Then.

Camelots heir sought to bind up the wounds
Then Sirhan Sirhan shot him dead.
Bobby bled out on the kitchen tiled floor
for I am a Child of Then.

Asian girl running, naked, on a dirt country road.
A Viet Cong man shot in the head.
Fifty Eight Thousand names on a wall
Yes, I am a Child of Then.
poem suggested by my poet friend Leafsailor
John F McCullagh Jul 2018
A winter storm had dumped a foot
of wet and heavy slushy snow.
As the sidewalk does not clean itself
I dressed to face my winter foe.

I worked too hard, I worked too fast
as I shoveled out our walks and paths.
My heart was racing; I' was feeling done,
then a golden retriever came on the run.

"hey there good boy." I greeted the pup.
"A Saint Bernard would have been nice too!"
He sniffed then licked my ungloved hand.
"Somebody must be looking for you."

Just then I heard from down the block
a voice called "Rascal" and the dog's head turned.
It clearly was his master's voice
"He's over here" I replied in turn.

His owner was a kindly older man
glad to retrieve his pet unharmed.
He'd gotten out to play in the snow
someone had left the gate not closed.

Rascal offered me his paw
and looked at me with deep brown eyes
We shook, then he accepted his leash
Rascal and his master  then headed home.

I never saw Rascal again
or meet his master on the street.
We met just that once on a snowy eve.
The memory is  all that I got to keep.

I'd often heard my mother say
that we oft meet angels in disguise
I can't say for certain this was such a case.
I have no proof for the worldly wise.
John F McCullagh Jul 2018
Imagine being loved! It is a miracle some say.
Love fiercely he advised me for this all will pass away.
For all who seek each other there is no need to remind
That we have all the world, but very little time.
Man of woman born Is but a transient creature.
I only learned to love so well
because I had the finest teacher.
7/22/18 is the 37th Anniversary of my Dad's passing. I received a kind note from a lover of mine some time after the funeral which said in closing that she was grateful that my father had taught me so well how to love.
John F McCullagh Jul 2018
Joan of Arc gets all the credit;
everybody knows her name.
Agnes was not nearly as famous
but a least she avoided the flames.

Joan was Charles' warrior Priestess,
Agnes ,his mistress, of sorts.
She was undoing his virtue
While Joan was besieging Brit forts.

Agnes was the lady of Beauty,
That's  the castle Charles put in her name.
Her Decolletage  was her chief attraction;
Her cleavage put all others to shame.

In art she was  depicted as Mary,
her Breast bared for the Savior to ****.
Joan of Arc was depicted in armor,
her breastplate was spattered with muck.

Joan took inspiration from Heaven
Agnes from a feather bed's down.
Together they made Charles a monarch
In the city of Rheims  he was crowned.
In the denouement of the hundred year's war Joan of Arc, the maiden warrior was condemned to death at the stake.  Agnes De Sorel was mistress to the Dauphin, later King Charles the victorious. Both women were his inspiration
John F McCullagh Jul 2018
It's a closely guarded secret so don't ask for the address.
It's a shelter from the storm for any damsels in distress.
It is funded by the City and follows their mandate
to shelter battered women from the men they've grown to hate.

The location must be secret from the predatory male;
the women would be helpless if security should fail.
Like any abused creature, the fear is  in their eyes
for they've been beaten ****** by their less than perfect guys.

I was there for an inspection, the house mom met me at the door
Most of her charges do not want me there; they don't trust men anymore.
I  arrived when most were working; I must leave ere they return.
for it is peace and solitude above all for which they yearn.

They are Eloi, I am Morlock- at least in their fearful eyes
For they have suffered at the hands of men
and dare not believe their lies
An interesting inspection of an undisclosed address which is not really on Morrison  but is a true story
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