"mccarthy" poems
Waterfall
F J McCarthy on Nov 18, 2009
Water cascading over sun brown skin.
Sunlight reflecting your beauty in glistening drops.
Soft lovely curves bathing in the waterfall.
Her lover waits on the sandy shore
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 4:03 PM UTC
Pickle Haiku
F J McCarthy on Jul 17, 2009
Green fresh cucumber
Drowning in spiced vinegar
Reborn a pickle
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 3:31 PM UTC
Jake the Snake
F J McCarthy on Jan 9, 2009
Jake was a snake, who felt incomplete.
For all of his friends all seemed to have feet.
Jake had no feet and it made him so sad,
As he watched his friends run with the feet they all had.
The raccoon and the squirrel had big furry tails,
But all that Jake had were leathery scales.
Jake watched the birds flying up in the sky.
How wonderful indeed to know how to fly.
Jake watched the fish as they swam in the lake.
Swimming was one thing that was easy for Jake.
Sometimes he would swim, then lie in the sands.
He’d think how he’d look with feet or with hands.
One day he was laying in the sun on the sand.
When he heard such a noise he could not understand.
I must see what is wrong , Jake said with a frown.
For something is troubling the whole Forest town.
He saw all of his friends by the rocks on the hill.
Then he saw mother Robin and she looked very ill.
He asked his friend Mr. Rabbit why Mother Robin was crying?
“Her baby fell out of the nest while she was out flying”.
“How is the baby, was he hurt by the fall.?”
“the baby is fine, but he’s trapped in this wall”.
Jake studied the wall,and looked at the crack.
“Has anyone tried to get baby bird back?”
The chipmunk and squirrel said the crack was to small.
And not even the mole could dig through that wall.
Mr. Field-mouse said “I could fit through the crack.
But the bottom is deep. How would I get back?”
Then Jake started thinking and in the blink of an eye.
“I’m the thinnest of all so I’m going to try.”
Jake asked Mr. Raccoon to lend him a hand.
They climbed up the wall and Jake told him his plan.
Mr. Raccoon held Jake’s tail and lowered Jake down the hole.
Just then baby bird let out a wail, for Jake had found his goal.
“Climb on my neck ” Jake said to the bird “and hold on really tight.”
Raccoon pulled them up as the whole forest watched this wonderful Marvelous sight.
First came up baby and afterwards Jake.
Then everyone cheered what a wonderful snake.
He’s saved baby bird and everyone knew it.
Of all the forest animals only he could do it.
The chipmunk and squirrel and even the mole.
Had not a hope to get down that hole.
Yet Jake with his body so long and so thin.
Saved baby bird from the fix he was in.
Jake felt so happy, he didn’t need feet.
Or a big furry tail to make him complete.
“I am very complete”cried Jake. “I’m so happy to be just a snake.”
Then baby bird said in a voice rather small.
“Don’t make that mistake, your not just a snake.
Your my friend and a hero, your Jake the Snake.
The very best snake of all!
May 17, 2010
May 17, 2010 at 7:10 PM UTC
Byron and I play
The All Topics Open.
Eighteen holes
Invariably draws nostalgic.
Byron mentioned he went to the WWF in Detroit.
I sliced into a childhood memory
Of midgets at Cobo Hall:
Cobo Hall, Saturday Night. Be there!
Byron started pitching old wrestlers and holds:
Leaping Larry Shane, great with the Anaconda Vice;
Killer Kowalski vs. Bobo Brazil, pinned by the Crucifix and Abdominal Stretch;
**** the Bruiser* tagging with The Sheik
To defeat Gorgeous George and Crybaby McCarthy.
Byron went on in detail, with tabernacle authority:
“It was a Bear Hug that quickly swung in to a Quarter,
then Half,
then Full Nelson;
Crybaby bounced off a knee,
Was driven to the mat and pinned
By a Front Sleeper.”
(Jimmy's newborn picture faded in,
and the pose he naturally struck
baby arms
cocked like a sideshow muscle man
Daddy quipped: **** the Bruiser*.
I was Leaping Larry Shane.
Daddy quipped: Larry the Stooge.
I didn't see that move)
Byron was intense. I could hear, but
I was zoning.
Crybaby and Front Sleeper dazed me.
How time Venns.
I was pinned today.
I recognized the feeling.
Tagged, then pinned by
The inescapable
Baby Nelson.
You know the hold.
On your back.
Baby on chest, face down.
Pinned.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
Under alcohol umbrellas
We'll seek shelter from the snow
This street is icing over
Sliding sleet beneath our toes.
This place keeps getting colder,
They predicted our bad luck
But the globe is growing warmer
Choke me down, I'll get choked up.
It's like Wharton is your neighbor
And McCarthy shares her bed--
We've got plenty Pretty Horses
But no Room, here, for Old Men
Tickers spit out headlines
Half of us can't even read.
But the other half's no better,
We're cannibals eating dreams.
So you'll keep your smoke and mirrors.
And, reflecting, stifle coughs.
Operate under assumptions:
Overrated's good enough.
But I'm taking bets, suggestions,
And donations, West to East.
So, from minor indiscretions,
I might try to beg release.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 7:03 PM UTC
blue eyed boy of pure flesh and grown bones
you truly inspire
sadly you desire to burn
beneath the suns clench
you have written poetry for girl's
scattered all over this world
all i ask of you is a poem for me
a note to let me know it's true
they say it comes easy to you
blue eyed boy of thirty two
you look far younger than your years
admired by your wisest peers
you say that your heart beats to the rhythm of mine
for that poem i still pine
write it with your blood
i promise you i will drink it up line after line
roy mccarthy
for that poem i still pine
Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 7:32 PM UTC
"There were good people on both sides."
Donald Trump's father was a card-carrying Klansman
& Trump learned everything he knows about business
from Roy Cohen, a notoriously evil self-hating homosexual,
gangster, politician, mouthpiece for the Mafia
& aide-de-camp to the same Joseph McCarthy
who engineered the Red Scare & subsequent blacklisting
of Hollywood's best & most creative talent;
this is Donald Trump's history & education & legacy -
why is a man POTUS who lied, cheated & paid hush money;
[the only way he knows how to do business];
he loves dictators, who laugh behind his back,
& even to his stupid, clueless face;
Trump's 'base' composed of desperate, angry morons
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
Unlucky in Love
F J McCarthy on May 23, 2009
Shining star guide me to my desire.
Light the path before me to see.
Warm my heart with your silver fire.
Shining star bring true love to me.
Close my eyes by the wishing well.
For the wish that I would make.
I want true love oh wishing well
For my heart is about to break.
Rabbits foot tightly in my hand
Four leaf clover pressed in a book.
Ive tried every lucky charm.
Yet I still don’t know where to look.
I don’t step on cracks ,or walk under ladders.
I try real hard to be good.
So my luck in love must surely turn.
At least I hope so, Knock on wood…
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 12:59 PM UTC
To Jessica
F J McCarthy on Jan 8, 2009
Dedicated to my niece, who is a little beacon of joy.
The most beautiful soul I have ever met, Is my sisters first born child.
Her smile is one you cant forget, So innocent,yet wild.
Her eyes so bright , they fill your heart,With gladness overflowing.
For Jessica is a special girl, That your better off for knowing.
If your filled with anger, And feel your ready to burst.
The best thing you can do. Is talk to Jessica first
She’ll sit on your lap, She might sing a song.
She’ll tell you a story, But before very long,
You’ll smile,and you’ll laugh, and your heart will be glad.
And you would not believe you could ever get mad.
Someday I’ll have a kid of my own, or maybe two or three.
If they have half the heart of Jessica, Then a happy dad I’ll be.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 5:25 AM UTC
The Miss-Director was beaming with pride
as he came to escort me inside.
"Come along, these are perilous times,
there is much ugly truth we must hide."
"Herr Goebbels was our school's inspiration.
Joe McCarthy taught here till he died.
Charlie Rangel is among our directors.
Our Grads over nations preside."
"We recruit each years class from young children
who display a disdain for the truth."
"We start with a class on tall stories,
progressing to fibs and untruths."
"By the time they are teens they are ready
to leave little white lies behind."
"They engage in deceit and deception.
These skills help them rob people blind."
"With our Grad course in prevarication
They misdirect and deflect with the great."
"Obama was born in Hawaii,
his foes say he was birthed out of state."
"When Bill Clinton was caught in that perjury
I nearly went out of my mind."
"If only he'd paid more attention in Class
and less to some coed's behind."
We had come to a massive rotunda
The Pantheon of all untruth.
Holograms of Stalin and Churchill
told whoppers in an endless loop.
There were quotes from
the World's Great Religions
inscribed on the sides of the wall.
A Left wing devoted to Lenin.
A right wing like a Munich beer hall.
" The sheeple must never be told
that a place like this even exists."
" You can count on me not to inform them."
I said, without moving my lips.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Meeting Lisa
F J McCarthy on Jan 8, 2009
I wrote this to my girlfriend, now my wife. She must have liked it, she still married me.
My heart was a deep dark well,
And at the bottom only sand.
Then you came, and I could tell,
That my love could flood the land.
Jealous was the morning sun,
When he saw you through my eyes.
For then he knew, the love in you.
Could brighten midnight skies.
Fields of roses, perfect all,
Could not bear to show it.
For in thier midst,you’d pale them all.
And the world would always know it.
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 5:32 PM UTC
Progress
by Michael R. Burch
There is no sense of urgency
at the local Burger King.
Birds and squirrels squabble outside
for the last scraps of autumn:
remnants of buns,
goopy pulps of dill pickles,
mucousy lettuce,
sesame seeds.
Inside, the workers all move
with the same très-glamorous lethargy,
conserving their energy, one assumes,
for more pressing endeavors: concerts and proms,
pep rallies, keg parties,
reruns of Jenny McCarthy on MTV.
The manager, as usual, is on the phone,
talking to her boyfriend.
She gently smiles,
brushing back wisps of insouciant hair,
ready for the cover of Glamour or Vogue.
Through her filmy white blouse
an indiscreet strap
suspends a lace cup
through which somehow the ****** still shows.
Progress, we guess, ...
and wait patiently in line,
hoping the Pokémons hold out.
NOTE: This poem is almost entirely fiction. There was a Pokemon craze when my son Jeremy was a little boy, and I did see birds and squirrels foraging in parking lots from time to time (and sometimes fed them myself from my car’s window), but everything else is fiction. On the rare occasions that I went to a Burger King, I would go through the drive-in, so I wouldn’t have known who the manager was, or how much time ***** spent on the phone. I think the poem probably started with the image of birds and squirrels squabbling for scraps of food in a parking lot as I waited in a line of slow-moving cars, then evolved as I imagined the hassle of going inside to “speed things up.” Keywords/Tags: America, Americana, American, culture, society, vanity, youth, progress, fast food, video games, Pokemon, MTV, music videos, glamour, models, supermodels, fashion, transparency, see-through, bra, breast, *******
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 9:43 PM UTC
A Simple Man
F J McCarthy on Jul 15, 2009
I am a simple man.
I have traveled near and far.
I have what I need and that’s not much.
For I am a simple man.
When I write a poem it comes from my heart.
Don’t check my grammar or tear it apart.
The meaning is given in plain sight you see.
A simple poet, That’s me.
The words that I use they are small.
But I understand them all.
I write of my life,
My kids and my wife.
For I am a simple man.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 12:44 PM UTC
I've more New Year's behind me
now that I have gotten old
My next one's in the tropics
I just don't like the cold
I used to party hearty
I wouldn't get back home till five
Now, I pass out on the sofa
My wife checks if I'm alive
I remember I went drinking
I got drunk riding the bus
When I told my friends the story
they said, dude, that wasn't us
I told them yes it was,
We all stayed out till late
They informed me of my error
I had passed out just past eight
New Years was Lombardo
New Years...it was **** Clark
Two giants of the evening
Two men who left their mark
Now, incentive to stay up till twelve
To see who will Jenny McCarthy kiss
well, I liked her better as a playmate
now, I couldn't give a ****
The morning will still get here
Whether I stay up, or not
New Year's eve is nothing special
I spend it with my wife (she's hot)
We cuddle on the sofa
Fall asleep as if on cue
With our tray half full of finger foods
We're asleep by ten, not two
I wish you Happy New Year's
My best wishes all are sent
If you stay awake past midnight
Call, and tell me how it went.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 9:20 PM UTC
F J McCarthy on Apr 5, 2009
A four part Haiku.
Deep sea creatures swim
Never knowing we are here
Existing apart
Worlds unknown to us
Cold dark sea, home to many
Life beyond our own.
Careless in our haste
Spilling poison in the sea
Killing precious life
Mother of all life
Forgive us our foolishness
blessed is the sea
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 3:08 AM UTC
Goodbye and Good Riddance
F J McCarthy on May 28, 2009
Conversations play inside my head,
Remembering every word you said.
Wishing now the words I see so clear,
Could have been said when you were here.
Feeling regret since you have gone,
I will never forget what you have done.
Angry words seem to burn so deep,
Replaying in my dreams,I’m losing sleep
Now you’re gone and our love is through.
You are done with me,and I’m done with you.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 12:55 PM UTC
Empty Inside
F J McCarthy on Jun 17, 2009
Empty, hollow, nothing left.
The way I feel inside.
No substance there I am bereft.
With nothing left to hide.
Barren,stark, like windblown sand.
No purchase to be found.
Tossed about like a tumble ****
This world has worn me down.
Dried out ,hardened,like a stone.
I’m ready for the fire.
Burn me up till I am gone.
My soul can now retire.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 3:31 PM UTC
Fishy Haiku
F J McCarthy on Sep 8, 2009
Swimming in the sea.
Through day and night, calm and storm
Swimming endlessly.
May 17, 2010
May 17, 2010 at 7:27 PM UTC
Vague
F J McCarthy on Nov 3, 2009
We are here and we are speaking,but your meaning is unclear.
You allude to situations with out ever going there.
We dance around the subject, trying hard not to commit.
Suggesting innuendo’s in the statements we omit.
Why can’t we just this once, speak openly and true.
Perhaps that is a talent we have never learned to do.
The hunter and the hunted switching roles from time to time.
Never letting out our secrets,just a foggy misty rhyme.
Ever do you torture me, with this circuitous verbal plague.
Answer me this question, Why must you be so Vague.
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 4:07 PM UTC
You are My World
F J McCarthy on Jul 2, 2010
To my wife, Lisa.
When did the world begin?
When did the sun first shine?
I think I know when it might have been,
When your eyes first met mine.
When did my heart first beat?
When did I start to see?
The first time our lips did meet,
Your kiss gave true love to me.
Now time has passed and we are one.
Joined as man and wife.
When people ask, how long we’ve been together
I tell them for all of my life.
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 3:11 AM UTC
181 to 200 of 3251 Poets
«891011»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by
Joelle Biele
To Katharine: At Fourteen Months
Veronica Patterson
Marry Me
Rick Campbell
Heart
Mary-Sherman Willis
The Laughter of Women
Sharmila Voorakkara
For the Tattooed Man
Max Mendelsohn
Ode to Marbles
Jonathan Holden
Car Showroom
David Tucker
The Dancer
Today’s News
Marianne Boruch (b. 1950)
It includes the butterfly and the rat, the ****
Some dreamily smoke cigarettes, some track
Trish Dugger
Spare Parts
Carrie Shipers
Medical History
Love Poem for Ted Neeley In Jesus Christ Superstar
Steven Huff
Safe
Lee McCarthy
Santa Paula
William Kloefkorn
"I stand alone at the foot "
Jackson Wheeler
How Good Fortune Surprises Us
Steven Orlen (1942–2010)
Three Teenage Girls: 1956
In the House of the Voice of Maria Callas
Steven Schneider
Chanukah Lights Tonight
Jessy Randall
Superhero Pregnant Woman
Anne Pierson Wiese (b. 1964)
Inscrutable Twist
Columbus Park
Regina DeSalva
Snip Your Hair
«891011»
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
*"The Dresden clock continued ticking on the mantelpiece
And the footman sat upon the dining-table
Holding the second housemaid on his knees--
Who had always been so careful while her mistress lived"
— From "Aunt Helen" by T.S. Eliot*
It's laugh-out-loud funny
how
one death
can change things.
If she were here
I'd blame
it
on a lifelong ill-
fascination with
Charlie McCarthy
or a hang-up
that's lingered since
the bourbon-scented Santa
invited me to sit.
At some point
you've got to
get back on the horse
though my levers
aren't so
easy to work
and, I better get
more
than a stuffed Pooh bear
out of this trip.
It's still-deep
water under the bridge
because
she's not.
Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 5:41 PM UTC
Poetry
F J McCarthy on Aug 9, 2010
What poetry means to me.
Poetry is the music that plays in my head,it is the beat of my heart when I see beauty.
Poetry is two lovers walking hand in hand completely alone as the world rushes by.
The wind in the trees ,a bird in flight, a childs first step,these are poetry.
Tears of joy at a loved ones safe return, the birth of a child.
Every day of our lives are filled with poetry.
If we are lucky we can somehow translate the love and the sorrow, the joy and the pain,into words.
Words that stir our emotions, words that make us happy or sad, that bring tears to our eyes.
Sometimes raw and unpolished,sometimes beautifully balanced and flowing.
Words not to be judged as right or wrong,just to be read and perhaps to be felt.
We call those words poetry, I call them my heart, my soul, and all the things I long for.
All my hopes and my fears locked within the pages of my poetry, just waiting to be found and set free.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 3:18 PM UTC