Tim Cronin

Tim Cronin Poems

Been wearing these underwear
Going on two days
Unbrushed teeth & unwashed hair
Only myself to blame for these indolent displays
...

Angry whiskey
Her sex haunts me
Genuinely I don't even know what I want
Problem of the ages, right?
...

County of dire disappointment
County of concrete snakes that all return
County of flailing youth
County that cannot care
...

We hear you Jesus
You just don't please us
We're aware of science
So there's no need for compliance
...

Those clouds below the storm, that only
Show themselves in lightning strike, wonder
If they even rain. They ought weep, lonely,
Haunting just out of reach, fleeing thunder
...

Here these unfinish'd poems for you accumulate
Here those words once unutterable find breath, live as you or I
Fear exists not here, nor anger, embarrassment, envy or pain
Tragedy, assuredly, but only in the name of love and beauty
...

From afar
From icy isolation mountain tops, or the cruel sea floor
From endless sand saharas, burning in day, freezing in night
From across parking lots, out bus windows
...

Your entails are disgusteen
Blue and green and every brown between
I'm told they're mine
But come to find
...

My eyes are red
And the world is gold
Result of doing not what I'm told
...

O tender breeze of summer's eve
Surrender please your secrets whisper'd softly
Change your rhyme in random time
Who tells the wind where to blow?
...

12.

The cicadas are freaking me out
In the cut, hiding to get high before work
And Matt Mason cut corners quickly
Like an acquaintance at Wawa
...

Sizzling summer's sailed
And cold clothes comfort little
Seasons signal change, the notice nailed
...

Reciev'd promotion
Emotional explosion
'What're they smokin?
Must be jokin'
...

(Sang the poet to a friend)
My heart is colder, darker than the depths of space
And far more isolated
My blood runs black unforgiving as asphalt
...

Smoked humid morning to death
Reading Neruda, Sa Di
Poetry or philosophy
But a baby bunny spied enjoying grass & breath
...

No Sherman to fear
That year
That Georgia
Youth's ear
...

Who was it seeking fulfillment
Manifest here now in only rust'd metal, wood, paper scraps
Creating this crossroads of past lost puppies or yard sales of dreams
(The internet before the internet)
...

Tim Cronin Biography

It was pretty hard to figure out how to write this on one of these technology apparatuses. I'm not a scientist. If I'm being honest, I'm just a lazy underachiever trapped in Pennsylvania wondering why anyone bothers with this civilization thing. I live for temporary escapes(poetry duh) and on weekends hardly get out of my pajamas.)

The Best Poem Of Tim Cronin

Dirty Sonnet

Been wearing these underwear
Going on two days
Unbrushed teeth & unwashed hair
Only myself to blame for these indolent displays

Spilled a few beers on my shorts
Judging by dampness, I'd guess more than two
And although I don't recall there are various reports
Proving this is true

Scrawl'd words greeted me in the AM
Nothing about love or kisses
Only stinking snarling mayhem

John Walker, kind Buddah, told me what bliss is
The known perfect with the unknown
And the shared sight of what is shown

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