John F. McCullagh
Biography of John F. McCullagh
My influences are Browning, Service, Donne, Thomas Grey, E.A. Poe and Shakespeare.
- Their Final Exam -new-
- The Fork In The Road -new-
- The Legion Of The Lost
- Baby Doe Of Deer Island
- The Girl At The Fair
- Death, Live On Camera
- Hearts Touched By Fire
- Rosamund De Clifford
- Living In The Ruins
- No Ordinary Joe
- Rethink Impossible
- Dead Man’s Chest
- An Empty Bottle Of Mateus Rose’
John F. McCullagh Poems
sacred Flame (A Tale Of The Neanderthal...
The newcomers killed my woman,
A Snowflake’s Revenge
My brother died upon a tongue But now I with my legions come
A Cup Of Tea
A cup of tea, some soda bread, Would you take some milk and sugar, friend? Sit here by the fireside And share with me the daylights end.
A Year Ago Today, The 9/11 Poem
It was a year ago today Twin towers built of steel and stone Still stood beside the water’s edge To greet the final morning dawn
(it Was) A Very Good Year.
My minds image of my Ellen Is like a rose preserved from time. Or like a treasured bottle from a vintage year for wine.
A Light Before Dying (Dark Humor)
She had been through so much, Still, the cancer had spread Now six weeks into treatment She's confined to her bed.
A Prayer For Thanksgiving,2010
A Prayer for Thanksgiving,2010 Lord, we humbly thank you For the feast you set before us.
A Rose Without A Thorn
I knew a rose without a thorn, The rarest bloom that grows
A Tenuous Tenor
He sang a tenor’s part- No more a tenor really
A Life In The Theater
There are faces in the darkness There to see and not be seen.
A Man For All Seasons
The sunlight is too bright for me- I was in prison for so long. My trial, a show staged by the Court,
A Pale Horse, George A. Custer And The S...
A horse to Ride, A sword to wield, an ocean of grass to tame. The Seventh was out in the field to make George Custer’s name.
The call went out It meant one thing. Death in the line of duty
I was one of thirty embryos,
Until We Meet Again
I will not let my hand let go your hand.
How little time together here remains:
Dear sister- looking old, frail, and confused-
lost somewhere in Morpheus’ gentle dreams.
The taxi that I called is downstairs waiting,
and shortly I must tear myself away
Knowing that our parting will be final-