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Poems By Poet Michael Micmac Mccrory  1/29/2015 2:21:32 PM
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'My grandpa turned me into Robbie Burns Mouse'

‘Grandpa turned me into Rabbie Burns Mouse’

Whilst celebrating the birth of Rabbie Burns
The Mother after so many twists and turns
Gave birth to a bouncing baby boy
Filled the fathers heart with joy
The grandpa lifts the baby high
And like a banshee gave a cry
You’ll be a man with concerns
You’ll be a poet like Rabbie Burns
You’ll write about “Mans inhumanity to man”
And fight to save old Ireland
You’ll fight “a Nation of rogues”
like they did at bolavogue
You’ll charge them roaring, you won’t wait
And you’ll lead us into a free state
You’ll rid us of quislings and such
Give us freedom “No monarch can touch”
But alas, grandpa don’t you know it
You turned me into a poet
A wandering poet “Who did dally”
“On British ground to rally”
I know you think, your kin has been blighted
And “British wrongs must be righted”
But in my heart and in “my Breastie”
I’m a “Wee, Sleekit, Cowrin, Tim’rous Beastie
Michael Micmac Mccrory



'The empty canvas'


The empty canvas
Here I stand
Ready for the deluded illusion
To be painted, sketched or drawn,
Into the self portrait
I could eventually become

The canvas is empty
Waiting for me to become
A surrealist, because the image
Like the canvas is bereft of substance
Not finished, never to be done
Cos I’m still searching the real me

I will have to start
To begin the search
For the lines and shapes
That portray me
So that people can say
Aye! That was him

He filled the image
Live the life, fulfilled his potential
He was big enough and had importance
Sufficient meaning to his existence
Lived his life to the full
To fill the canvas was his desire

The canvas is still empty
Surrounded by scaffold and a dustsheet
Waiting for the day
Someone will pull the cord
Then paint my outer form
Then I will have to start
The search for the inner me

Michael Micmac Mccrory



'Traffic jam'


Traffic Jam

Traffic jam
Too many trolleys
a scene at the mall

Michael Micmac Mccrory



'All Or Nothing; For The Gambler'

They enjoy the chase
They really like a flutter
They must be the winners
Happy to come out in front
Russian Roulette for horse's
Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Poems By Poet Michael Micmac Mccrory