John F. McCullagh Poems

The learned Dons of Oxford
Have invented and refined
An efficacious compound;
Love Potion number nine.
...

Short is our tenure
on this beautiful Earth.
As brief as the grass
In winter's cold breath.
...

That night was cold,
The wind was biting.
All over Ireland
the snow was falling
...

Pressure intense
around my head
and shoulders.
I am pushed
...

I love the Macadamia nut
dipped in dark chocolate for me.
I enjoy a good cup of Kona
from those islands across the sea.
...

I walked this campus in my youth,
forty years ago today.
The air is sweet from recent rain
here on the quad lawn where we played.
...

I've listened to their speeches.
Read their termite riddled planks.
They're unlikely to dethrone Barrack-
A pity, Mitt is no tom Hanks.
...

Much of our literature
has come from his pen-
or was He a She?
I can't say I ken.
...

The face that spoke of suffering
is now, forever, still
The torture done,
Her race is run,
...

The 'one percent' are tired
dealing with the unwashed masses
who harass them on Wall Street
while mostly sitting on their asses..
...