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Poems By Poet Michael Micmac Mccrory  12/21/2014 8:20:44 AM
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Standing On The Edge

Standing on the edge
Today yet again
Here I stand in the rain
The soil beneath me
Turns to mud
Standing alone
With just memories
Of a fruitful past
The fruit now fallen
On the mucky grass

Standing like a smoking gun
All my bullets spent
Looking down a loaded barrel
Like a blind man in the glaring sun
No damage left to be done
All faculties have slowed down
All strength has flown away
At life I have tried
But yesterday I died
They bury me today

A dear friend
Someone just as old as me
Is by my grave today
Standing on the edge
Tomorrow who will it be
I’m lucky
It won’t be me
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



'The Fighter'

‘The Fighter'

I was the fighter
I fought and beat the best
They chose the wheels
I was left with no choice

We looked at each other
A few feet apart
Raced towards our goal
The chicken fell off

Couldn't stand the pace
I beat them with miles to spare
I was the first one there
I got to the tills first

I'll get the chicken tomorrow
It'll be trolley's again at dawn

Michael Micmac Mccrory
Michael Micmac Mccrory



'The Queens English'

The Queens English

Wotcha mean
Don’t care, ain’t it
I ain’t bovvered!

Michael Micmac Mccrory
Michael Micmac Mccrory
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
• angel poems
beautiful poems
death poems
friend poems
• girl poems
home poems
hope poems
kiss poems
• life poems
loss poems
love poems
music poems
• nature poems
rain poems
school poems
sex poems
• soldier poems
summer poems
sun poems
war poems
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Poems By Poet Michael Micmac Mccrory