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Best Famous Roger Mcgough Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Roger Mcgough poems. This is a select list of the best famous Roger Mcgough poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Roger Mcgough poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Roger McGough poems.

Search for the best famous Roger Mcgough poems, articles about Roger Mcgough poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Roger Mcgough poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

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Poems are below...


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Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

Cake

 i wanted one life
you wanted another
we couldn't have our cake
so we ate eachother.
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

Mrs Moon

 Mrs Moon
sitting up in the sky
little old lady
rock-a-bye
with a ball of fading light
and silvery needles
knitting the night
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

First Day at School

 A millionbillionwillion miles from home
Waiting for the bell to go.
(To go where?) Why are they all so big, other children? So noisy? So much at home they Must have been born in uniform Lived all their lives in playgrounds Spent the years inventing games That don't let me in.
Games That are rough, that swallow you up.
And the railings.
All around, the railings.
Are they to keep out wolves and monsters? Things that carry off and eat children? Things you don't take sweets from? Perhaps they're to stop us getting out Running away from the lessins.
Lessin.
What does a lessin look like? Sounds small and slimy.
They keep them in the glassrooms.
Whole rooms made out of glass.
Imagine.
I wish I could remember my name Mummy said it would come in useful.
Like wellies.
When there's puddles.
Yellowwellies.
I wish she was here.
I think my name is sewn on somewhere Perhaps the teacher will read it for me.
Tea-cher.
The one who makes the tea.
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

The Lesson

 Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
hid voice was lost in the din

"The theme for today is violence
and homework will be set
I'm going to teach you a lesson
one that you'll never forget"

He picked on a boy who was shouting
and throttled him then and there
then garrotted the girl behind him
(the one with grotty hair)

Then sword in hand he hacked his way
between the chattering rows
"First come, first severed" he declared
"fingers, feet or toes"

He threw the sword at a latecomer
it struck with deadly aim
then pulling out a shotgun
he continued with his game

The first blast cleared the backrow
(where those who skive hang out)
they collapsed like rubber dinghies
when the plug's pulled out

"Please may I leave the room sir?"
a trembling vandal enquired
"Of course you may" said teacher
put the gun to his temple and fired

The Head popped a head round the doorway
to see why a din was being made
nodded understandingly
then tossed in a grenade

And when the ammo was well spent
with blood on every chair
Silence shuffled forward
with its hands up in the air

The teacher surveyed the carnage
the dying and the dead
He waggled a finger severely
"Now let that be a lesson" he said
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

Survivor

 Everyday,
I think about dying.
About disease, starvation, violence, terrorism, war, the end of the world.
It helps keep my mind off things.
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

The Trouble with Snowmen

 'The trouble with snowmen,'
Said my father one year
'They are no sooner made
than they just disappear.
I'll build you a snowman And I'll build it to last Add sand and cement And then have it cast.
And so every winter,' He went on to explain 'You shall have a snowman Be it sunshine or rain.
' And that snowman still stands Though my father is gone Out there in the garden Like an unmarked gravestone.
Staring up at the house Gross and misshapen As if waiting for something Bad to happen.
For as the years pass And I grow older When summers seem short And winters colder.
The snowmen I envy As I watch children play Are the ones that are made And then fade away.
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

Let Me Die a Youngmans Death

 Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

You and I

 I explain quietly.
You hear me shouting.
You try a new tack.
I feel old wounds reopen.
You see both sides.
I see your blinkers.
I am placatory.
You sense a new selfishness.
I am a dove.
You recognize the hawk.
You offer an olive branch.
I feel the thorns.
You bleed.
I see crocodile tears.
I withdraw.
You reel from the impact.
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

The Time I Like Best

 The time I like best is 6am
when the snow is 6 inches deep
which I'm yet to discover
'cause I'm under the covers
fast, fast asleep.
Written by Roger McGough | Create an image from this poem

The Leader

 I wanna be the leader
I wanna be the leader
Can I be the leader?
Can I? I can?
Promise? Promise?
Yippee I'm the leader
I'm the leader

OK what shall we do?
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