Bukowski And My Crib Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

Bukowski And My Crib



Come light a match to read my night time poem
the table legs the way they sway and bend
as lovers now unwind.

From my suffering his only wish to ease my pain
with the poetry of his
and my lack of metaphors.

I've come to learn the more I make
the less I have
to write for every one.

Houses his, my many cribs I had to hide away
others are just what they are that I am not
I had to chase away.

Children were the source of this he wrote
while being told I never was a child
like I am right now
and running wild the door is closed to that.

A good poem I never read whilest he was still alive
a better poem that some read
was due to alcohol
and still a better thought before I died
who does or doesn't want to know?

The secrets I once held so dear to me
were like a flower plucked
come some fine morning that the sun has opened.

Sunday, September 28, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: green
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
Close
Error Success