Mcbride Poems

the victim of amplified suicide

she was the victim of amplified suicide
what does that mean? I asked Detective McBride
She tried to hang herself first, he rapidly replied
But the knot in the rope had become untied

She took fifty-nine pills from a bottle
which explains why her skin has a bit of a mottle
she finally crashed her caddy into a bridge
in the next county over, by Strawberry ridge

How do you know it wasn’t an accident? I dared to ask.
The sixty-two-page suicide note next to her aluminum flask.
amplified suicide was a strange and new term to me.
But now a concept that I finally could see.

Nouns and Verba Think They are All That

We are the nouns, the mighty tidy nouns
house cat, mouse, bat, zebras, elephants and gowns
you’re nothing without us, the verbs smirk, laugh and say
twirling, whirling, dancing, singing, along the way

the adjectives and adverbs laugh at these arrogant two
You might be the wood and concrete, but we are the glue
without us you cannot be mammoth, tiny, cold or blue
this was from a frustrated adjective named McGrue.

or dance daintily or prettily said an arrogant adverb
thinking you are all that without the others is kind of absurd
a peacekeeping preposition tried to make a pact,looking at each side.
over, under, upside down, around and through, his name was McBride.

but brides wear white

But brides wear white with a touch of blue.
That’s right for them, for sure, it’s true.
But as for me, I am going to wear red said Gladys Bright.
My bridesmaids will proceed me down the aisle, wearing white.

It is not done! Her mother said with a traditional sigh.
Who cares? Said daddy. She is marrying a really wonderful guy.
And he likes her in red, and she will be a beautiful bride.
Gladys gladly got married to her handsome groom, Mel McBride.

I was startled when the bridesmaids came dancing out in white.
This was stated by many guests with laughter that night.
But then Gladys came out on the arm of her Dad.
I think she is the prettiest bride our church has ever had!

I Won't Wear it

we got new red shirts from the PTA on Monday
It was comfy, so I wore it to school on Tuesday.
Then I texted McBride, my bestie.
Wear your new red shirt, I said, we can be twins.

She texted back “Do not wear that shirt!
It is for the birthday celebration in September!”
“Too late,” I replied. “I am at school.”
I get there two hours before most of the others.

She texted me “change that shirt!”
After peeking into my closets I saw all my shirts are long-sleeved.
The heat index yesterday was a hundred and ten.
She called me and asked what slacks I was wearing.

I said “I am wearing denim blue pedal pushers.”
This is old-school talk for “capris”.
She said “I am bringing you a shirt!”
“I won’t wear it!” I told her.

When she arrived she made me pull it out of the bag.
It was ALL of my favorite neon colors!
pinks, greens, oranges, yellows, reds.
I whipped my red shirt off and handed it to her.

Skinny Ribs of a Pear

I know I should not care
About the skinny ribs of a pear
But when you are eating one
And your tooth gets hurt, it is no fun.

I thought they did not have bones I said.
Who told you that? Asked my neighbor Red.
I had some before, and there was nothing hard inside.
Maybe they took the ribs out, suggested Mr. McBride.

Two Old Geezers On a Ride

Wife’s hair was blowing when they took their ride.
My hairdo is awful! Said Mrs. Goosy McBride.
Her old geezer husband said “wish we had stayed inside.”
No longer cherishing his time with his bride.

They are grumpy for sure, said a neighbor who saw.
She is a doctor, and he studies boring mortgage law.
They never smile or party or wave or act friendly at all.
Their persnickety stuck-up attitudes are rather small.

Neither Better Than the Other

Elsie the cow brought home the twins.
They were in a cart with an errant wheel that spins.
You have a little bull! The other cows said.
And a darling girl, Elsie said, her cheeks all red.

But a bull cow is something! Mixie Cow replied.
You are so lucky to have one! agreed Mrs. McBride.
And a little girl, Elise said, to straighten them out.
They did not understand, and she did not pout.

Girls and boys, boys and girls, both precious and sweet.
Neither better than the other, both a genuine treat.
Elsie the cow knew better than most.
of both girls and boys a mama can boast.

It's the Mouse Kah Treaters

Who who who?
Who’s out there? Asked the frightened humans hiding inside.
It’s the mouse-kah-treaters, yelled out Mr. McBride.

We are singing for our supper, we’re on our knees!
Sang out the head mouse, Mr. Do-as-you -please.
Let them in! The kids yelled. Let them in! Let them in!

What do they want? Asked the human next door.
We want cheese! Candy! Cookies! Peanut butter and more!
Keep them out yelled the neighbor. I have been invaded before.
But the grandma inside who was hard of hearing, opened the door.

Dinner At Grandmas

The pork chops were ten meters thick.
The gravy was never lumpy, always totally slick. 
Grandma’s kitchen had smells found nowhere else ever.
She was fantastic with food, surprisingly witty and clever.

Her dishes were plain, blue and white, with a scene inside.
They were scrubbed thoroughly by my Uncle Malcom McBride.
He had never married, which is why we usually had a female guest.
He had seven sisters; do I need to add on the rest?

Grandma would include anyone who wanted to come in and help.
We started carrying platters of croissants and rolls as a young whelp.
Cinnamon sugar pie crust was sitting on the back porch all the time.
To get to it we walked through smells of pumpkin, sage, peach and lime.

Grandma’s pies were in place, but we knew the absolute rule.
To take one before dinner would be death to that fool.
Amid giant platters of potatoes, corn, roast beef, in this fragrant place,
We all sat down together, and waited while grandma said grace.

Merely Choices

Merely Choices 

Millions of hugs and millions of kisses are missing
So too those glorious days for reminiscing
Too many balls and too many dolls never played with
Sixty million laughing voices, silenced as merely choices

We now ride with young Willie McBride
But you will never sit at our graveside
For us there are no white crosses, no names upon a wall
No one’s even heard our voices, we are gone as merely choices

No glory, no honor, no eternal flame
No laughing, no crying, no chance at a game
Our demise rationalized as a right
Since we had not a voice, we were extinguished as merely a choice

But we are a living heavenly chorus
Singing out that you might not ignore us
We were butchered on an alter deemed progress
Sixty million silent voices, sacrificed as merely choices

Immortal

He was named Joseph Steven McBride
He never had any fun it can’t be denied.
His life was all glum
Of joy he had none.
Since he never lived, he still hasn’t died.

Spring-Loaded

I once knew this guy. Fred McBride
Whose wishes were sadly denied
He was wed in the spring
But before he could bring
the needs, of his wife, satisfied !

It's a shame that this groom and his bride
Purchased bedsprings, wrapped, coiled and tied
Big Fred jumping on 
Bounced up and was gone !! ...
Through the ceiling, the roof, then outside !!

Poor Fred hit his head, and had died
Leaving gapes in the roof, long and wide
That bed was spring-loaded
The bride soon reloaded
her bed, ...where a roofer resides !!



___________________________
For Deb's Contest: Spring Forward
3/2/15

Fisher Mcbride

On the beach sat the fisher McBride
With his pole in a stand by his side
Then suddenly he had a big bite
And his pole took off into flight
Up he sprang, his mouth open wide

Ireland

Oh Ireland i have seen your beauty
 I have seen your hatred too
 I have heard the songs of rebellion
 The war of words,the words of death.
 You remember Pearce,Connolly and Mcbride
 You forget the children who have died
 Died because of your ignorance
 Died,because of you,the people
 Who stand and watch,then turn away
 When will you learn that no-one wins
 In the game of war and hate
 But everybody loses
 For you, is it too late ??

Drinks Anyone?

In a dim lit barroom, sitting
never quiet, I do say
there’s a man ever present
with a game there to play
If you have some quarters
and some time there to fill
seek out this man, Patty,
as he’ll give you a thrill
With many a story
a tale he would tell
Patty drinks his worth
and does it quite well
with always a pint
or a mug there in hand
you’d be so surprised
at how well he could stand
For he holds well his liquor
and does so with pride
So you shouldn’t play quarters
with Patty McBride

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