"mcgough" poems
I sit on a droopy windowsill and gaze out
at the stars above me in the stately sky of coal.
I let the smoke fill me, pollute my corrupted lungs,
‘til it plugs me, completely consumes my sticky soul,
and midnight sorrow blanket hugs the heart in my hole.
I sit and I consider the sky
with its million-and-one jewels
that adorn the vast carpet of night
and its one, lone cloud that slowly drools
fat, drippy drops of deep fed'ral blues.
The ashy, burnt taste is still in my throat;
it lingers- a dull, cloying candy cane.
The muted flavour chokes and jabs and pecks
persistently, in the back of my brain
and leaves a steel blue/gray trailing stain.
Vague memories of fourth-grade English lessons
take me with a deep sigh to forgotten thoughts
of Roger McGough and unrequited love-
dazed recollections of school poetry taught
in obscure slate-blue classrooms, littered with blots.
It seems feeling unreturned affection
isn't quite as great as I’d thought after all.
I must've been wrong, all those hazed years ago,
when I yearned to feel unrequited love’s fall,
convinced it would be a wondrous, dazzling ball
Instead, I'm just ******* in the pale-ing sky
that seems to be growing into lighter hues-
the navy’s turned to electric, to powder,
matching the sapphire in my soul of glue.
I'm suppose I'm feeling somewhat, slightly blue.
.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
(after Roger McGough)
Sometimes,
I feel like a
celibate nun
who cannot
love
the one,
who does not
need the
human
carnal touch
because the
embrace of
God
is enough.
J. L. James
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
My books are piled in the Hallway,
The Girlfriend wants me out,
She can keep all the household cargo
the insecurities and doubt.
I don't care much for chrome Toasters
Just give me my Damon Runyon,
Brendan Behan, James Joyce, Ernest Hemmingway,
Jack Kerouac and Jack London.
Albert Camus, Seamus Heaney, Patrick Kavanagh
Mayakovsky and Roger McGough,
the Steamer, bread -maker, Asparagus- spearer
Are all yours, I'm ******* off.
Just give me a dozen or so boxes,
Not those ***** looks,
Your welcome to the giant fridge-freezer,
All I want, are my books
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 3:52 PM UTC
Are you a male or a female?
Hey, Dude
Describe yourself:
Funny sort of bloke
How do you feel?
Clutching at Cheese Straws
Describe where you currently live:
The Bright Side
If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Casablanca
Your favourite form of transportation:
tightrope
What’s the weather like:
Today is not a day for adultery
Favourite time of day:
Nocturne
Your relationships:
Romantic
Your fear:
Snipers
What is the best advice you have to give:
No Surprises
If you could change your name, you would change it to:
Barry Bungee
My soul’s present condition:
Fits and Starts
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC