J.R. McCARTHY
Fragile Little Time
JR McCarthy
We will leave this place of selfish tears,
and search for your monument wherever
it chooses to bloom. Unnecessary
to erect a proper, lifeless headstone when
a splendid, mighty inkling of forever
is already swaying, already beloved,
in some delightful place not far from here:
some fine, new world where appreciation
is unleavened by memory, where you are
always as strong, healthy and beautiful
as on the fairest day of the fragile
little time when we were blessed to love you.
A Pack of Blessings Light Upon Thy Back
Asking why you cannot sleep is just
the same as making sure you never will.
Furthermore, it’s just as well you can’t
access the brute sum of that growing store
a wiser person thought to put aside.
There came a moment in this desperate night
when you realized that you were begging for
the quick resumption of your uphill struggle,
and peace of mind: you wanted nothing more.
Someone loves you best, and others think
that you deserve some trust, and warm regard –
Finish up, then take yourself to bed.
Tomorrow, you will find your wits in tact:
a pack of blessings light upon thy back.
Before my Tongue has Gleaned My
Teeming Brain
I’m twice as old as Keats was when he died,
and I am terrified that I won’t live…
…to say my peace, or say my piece – which
one?
It is disgraceful, but I am not sure.
I still tell innocents that poetry
is what defines me, but I teach high school.
Furthermore, when I say that I teach,
I mean that I perform a dance as stale
and self-important as a dance can be
in front of boys and girls who have no choice
but to endure it. Go, this afternoon,
of half a dozen years from now, and ask
the brightest of them if they learned a thing
from me, and they will say, ” He was all right,
but I can’t think of anything right now.”
I’m twice as old as Keats was when he died,
and I have made a thousand master plans
to glean my teeming brain before it stops.
Some involve alarm clocks, some require
a lot of travel and some solitude,
but none involve remaining at my desk
for more than fifteen minutes at a time.
Once I even bought a tape recorder,
and planned to sneak up while I was myself –
but I was too self-conscious to record
my stream of consciousness. I’m just afraid
that my poor words will never measure up
to fourteen lines from young and doomed John
Keats –
So no one leaves my tutelage without
When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be.
JR McCarthy
We will leave this place of selfish tears,
and search for your monument wherever
it chooses to bloom. Unnecessary
to erect a proper, lifeless headstone when
a splendid, mighty inkling of forever
is already swaying, already beloved,
in some delightful place not far from here:
some fine, new world where appreciation
is unleavened by memory, where you are
always as strong, healthy and beautiful
as on the fairest day of the fragile
little time when we were blessed to love you.
A Pack of Blessings Light Upon Thy Back
Asking why you cannot sleep is just
the same as making sure you never will.
Furthermore, it’s just as well you can’t
access the brute sum of that growing store
a wiser person thought to put aside.
There came a moment in this desperate night
when you realized that you were begging for
the quick resumption of your uphill struggle,
and peace of mind: you wanted nothing more.
Someone loves you best, and others think
that you deserve some trust, and warm regard –
Finish up, then take yourself to bed.
Tomorrow, you will find your wits in tact:
a pack of blessings light upon thy back.
Before my Tongue has Gleaned My
Teeming Brain
I’m twice as old as Keats was when he died,
and I am terrified that I won’t live…
…to say my peace, or say my piece – which
one?
It is disgraceful, but I am not sure.
I still tell innocents that poetry
is what defines me, but I teach high school.
Furthermore, when I say that I teach,
I mean that I perform a dance as stale
and self-important as a dance can be
in front of boys and girls who have no choice
but to endure it. Go, this afternoon,
of half a dozen years from now, and ask
the brightest of them if they learned a thing
from me, and they will say, ” He was all right,
but I can’t think of anything right now.”
I’m twice as old as Keats was when he died,
and I have made a thousand master plans
to glean my teeming brain before it stops.
Some involve alarm clocks, some require
a lot of travel and some solitude,
but none involve remaining at my desk
for more than fifteen minutes at a time.
Once I even bought a tape recorder,
and planned to sneak up while I was myself –
but I was too self-conscious to record
my stream of consciousness. I’m just afraid
that my poor words will never measure up
to fourteen lines from young and doomed John
Keats –
So no one leaves my tutelage without
When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be.
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ALL THE MUSIC AND ARTWORK ON THIS WEBSITE IS DISPLAYED UNDER A
CREATIVE COMMONS LICENSE
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NEW CD JUST RELEASED!!
Check out a sample of 'Back In The
Holy Bronx' here:
Holy Bronx' here:
Pole Vault
What could ever get in the way of
a man who had schooled his body to
hoist itself up, with a
wobbly pole that he
sticks in a shallow ditch,
to launch itself over a
filmsy arch that he is
not allowed to touch?
Who could have imagined such a
handy metaphor for the
esssential uncertainty
of life, the vanity
of all the complicated goals
we set for ourselves, and
whatever you're thinking now?
How will I ever be able to
take myself seriously again when
I know that no matter what else
I accomplish, I cannot do
that, and will never be
able to do that, even if
I keep on trying until
my wobbly pole is broken?
What could ever get in the way of
a man who had schooled his body to
hoist itself up, with a
wobbly pole that he
sticks in a shallow ditch,
to launch itself over a
filmsy arch that he is
not allowed to touch?
Who could have imagined such a
handy metaphor for the
esssential uncertainty
of life, the vanity
of all the complicated goals
we set for ourselves, and
whatever you're thinking now?
How will I ever be able to
take myself seriously again when
I know that no matter what else
I accomplish, I cannot do
that, and will never be
able to do that, even if
I keep on trying until
my wobbly pole is broken?