Mccormick Poems | Examples

Meeting the Leprechaun

I am a merry me frisky fey a tiny man bragged to me
Please join me at my explosive enjoyable revelry
A jollity in his overzealous ambiance was brighter than I had ever seen
Magical merriment and meshugga craziness was about to convene

Are you a leprechaun? I asked the adorable trickster, right away
Name’s McCindlesticks and I’m Celtic Irish, all the ever-loving day
That was good enough for me, being the daughter of a McCormick.
I am a bit Irish myself, and not easy to fool, cajole or trick.

Donald a McCormick Boy

Donald was born in a tough family
It was beyond tough love, it was violent
He learned to put up his dukes before he was two
always getting struck down hard by a brother
He had six of them and they were scrappers
His parents did not interfere, it was their family’s normal

when he got to school he trusted no one
came in fighting and scrapping
his teacher was seasoned
she was used to the McCormick boys
she had been teaching them for over thirty years
they trusted no one

It would take Donald a long time to trust her too
She knew this, but trusted that it would eventually happen
It always happened about May
Sadly, the last month of kindergarten
Next year he would be in another teacher’s class
trusting no one
a new rough start
he was a McCormick boy
it was his way of life….

Ole Clammitiens Words

Fee-got sew high I say
Man they tryna hem me so
I can't ah-ford nuttin.
I spent ah day in Allen Acres
Bay'd em breakfast
in e sand anna
I installo de cmaera sercur'ems
for de peep-lez.
I say ya'll use dez thangs to set up
quotin the 1933 security act
to create a stage between tensionated peeplez.
ya'll make fussy and nem auge.
I put a plate of cookies
on the table
and fan'd the amora toward the
weight watchers camp
don't I expect the to see
the wihhling dieters
comin ov'r de fence?
Zirpossa? Nah dat aint ritw no!
Caul Musky ya'll hearez us say!
Man told me put the camera on my brand new
McCormick tractor
I laughed sounded all funny
with his ole north accent. I say:
 man ya'll be plowin and diskin
why ya'll knead ah-ruh camera?
Told me the rowes of hoes
only the wife know's.
I say yes sir@!
Yes sir!
Ya'll might be encitin ah roit!

Is This Ample Enough

none of the McCormicks knew which insect had made the crying sounds
odd since usually every McCormick is an expert about thirty-nine things
I know because my mother and her sixty-two sisters are all McCormicks
Some of the McCormicks do not bother to marry, cannot find ample fodder.

Is this ample enough? Cousin Lewt asked, dragging a McCormick home.
Isn’t he your cousin? Asked sixteen McCormicks. I sat quietly for once.
Wanting to see another beat down or put down at a McCormick reunion.
Daddy, who was a Stone gave me a wink; he was feeling smug too.

The Stone reunion is famous for brawls, fights, and police reports.
PS spoiler alert, the crying sounds were noises from a long-horned beetle.
Played on the accordion located between her front and back legs.
Even I with my magnificent imagination, cannot make this crap up.

Let Grandma Win

The McCormick family loves wheels
We like bikes, trikes, mopeds and motorcycles
We like Fords, Chevys, Lincolns and Cadillacs.

We are also racers.
Others watch the Indianapolis 500
We like driving like we just left the pit crew.
Our ancestors started us on this journey.

We were having a race on Wednesday
When grandma got on a moped.
I am going to outrun these cycles! She said.
“Let grandma win! Let grandma win! “ we all yelled.

Unfortunately, the little McCormicks are competitive like us.
They outrode, outraced and outran grandma.
The last one to the finish line, she pouted all day.

When You Become My Friend

I pick up the phone and call Debbie
We are twelve years old instantly
Even though that was fifty years ago
We laugh and learn a little bit
Our history is rich with stories and fun
I tell her I have been praying for her
She says she appreciates it
She has had a triple bypass surgery

I am not finished with my phone calls of the day
I talk to my friends on speaker while I paint.
Marianne is my next call, we are besties.
Have been for over twenty-six years
I tell her stories, she tells me stories.
We laugh at the right times.
Recalling things we did and how much fun it was.
Want to meet me at a restaurant in thirty-minutes?
Heck yes! I say, and hit the road.

On the way I dial Lisa. She is one of my newer friends.
We have only known each other for four years.
But we are close.
We discovered that our relatives were named McCormick.
They came to the USA from Cork County, Ireland the same year.
We were both raised in Disciples of Christ church.
We know what Chi Rho means.
I talk to her all the way to Marianne.

When you become one of my friends, it is for life.
Like a puppy, I fall in love with our friendship
and I never let you go.

I Am a Painting Factory

I am a painting factory
cranking out eight to ten canvases a week
it is my gemini mentality
it is my high mccormick energy

I am a poetry factory
slapping out seventy poems a week
it is my iowa roots
it is what I know how to do

I am a cartoon factory
scribbling down eight cartoons a day
it is my cross to bear
I blame my mother, the energizer bunny

I Am An Acrylic Painter

I am an acrylic painter who cannot live without a variety of greens.
Green grass, green trees, green leaves, green moss, green clover.
I thought I was out of my favorite color of green yesterday.
My muse said “what about that box of green paints behind you?”
This saved me a trip to the store for there were three full tubes of it.
Green is such a nature color, I cannot fathom not having it around.
Especially when I am gearing up for Ireland’s favorite holiday.
My mother was a McCormick. I am in the throes of painting shamrocks,
Irish flags, leprechauns, mushroom houses, ivy, moss; I need green!

Suzette Suzette

We thought we’d be the first kids there, this was totally wrong.
Hundreds of people were shoved into Great-grandma’s tiny house.
Maybe fifty, anyway a lot.
I did not know any of them.
Come in! said a tall woman with a pinched McCormick nose.
My sister and I scooted in, holding up a wall.
Our mother escaped into the kitchen full of McCormick women.
It’s the twins! Someone said.
Great-grandma had eighteen children, not any twins.
How long do we have to stay? I whispered to my sister.
She shrugged.
Suzette, a mean first cousin walked in.
We ran toward her as if we liked her.
At least she was someone we knew.
“Suzette! Suzette!” We yelled.
She sneered at us and began playing with a second cousin.

He Does Not Care Where

Layla's face is a map of Ireland grandma McCormick says
or Scotland Shawn McDougall adds hopefully
Look at those freckles, they are irish insists Brigid
You can tell the difference between irish and Scottish freckles?

Layla’s groom does not care about her heritage
Or her genes or teeth or her parents or anything else
He is looking at her the way most of us look at a chocolate cake
She is a gorgeous Celtic bride, and he is mesmerized.
Seeing her all over again for the first time on their wedding day.

Not caring whether she hails from Scotland or Timbuktu.
They make a most handsome couple.
Their bairns will be lovely
Also most probably have a hint of fey.

They Lost a Bet

What’s happening? A bystander asked the McCormick sisters, unduly soused.
They lost a bet, Wilma and Lucille said as the other two grunted and roused.
You mean they must pull that cart all the way to Marshalltown today?
Yes, and the horse was so happy she did a celebratory sashay.

Do you McCormicks often make your siblings tow the line like this?
It will make them much stronger said Wilma, an enterprising miss.
Lucille kept quiet, because she knows the mind of women on the street.
And seeing her sisters struggle to pull their cart was an enormous treat.

Naomi a Virtuous Woman

A woman who told the truth no matter what the consequences,
A woman who kept news, when it was not her confidence to reveal
A woman who studied her religious books, and believed in forgiveness
Virtuous woman who extended kindness to others in a variety of ways.

Naomi McCormick was loving and giving like her Biblical namesake.
She could be trusted, so many told her their innermost secrets.
She kept their counsel, listening, but not preaching.
She was a woman who knew how to listen without trying to fix or help.

I watched her give herself in a variety of ways to many people.
She gave her time, her talents, her appreciation, and her energy.
She gave for eighty-eight years, until there was nothing left to give.
I learned much from Naomi, for she was my mother.

Photo of Lumberjacks

The lumberjacks were talked into the photo.
It is in grayscale of course, this being 1911.
Colored photographs were not dreamed of yet.
Seventeen lumberjacks were rounded up for the photo.
When the photo was developed two extra men appeared
Who are these guys? The younger ones asked.
The new guys did not recognize them either.
They were standing next to you, Tom, someone said.
Tom did not remember seeing them.
Finally the photograph made it to the eyes of Donald.
He had been lumberjacking the longest.
Pete Johnson and Willy McCormick, he said.
Pete was killed in an accident in Oh six.
I think Willy was murdered in Oh eight.
No one looked at the photo the same after that.

Mccormick Family Reunion

His eyes were green but no one noticed
Even though he was the only green-eye in the room.
His hair was red, but so were all of ours
We are McCormicks so it makes sense right?

The thing we were all noticing was his beard
The base appeared to be popsicle sticks and globs of glue.
Is it hard? Someone asked. He nodded furiously.
Is it a contest? Another relative interjected.

His brother came in wearing a similar beard 
But with Barbie and Ken dolls glued on it 
Their heads going in different directions.
Weird and weirder I thought.

Until their mother came in.
She had the ultimate beard.
She had interwoven a skull
And put in blinking eyes.

Since it was not my family reunion
I kept my mouth shut
Especially as my girlfriend
Was irritated now

She thought she was going 
to win with orange witch 
beard with the hissing black cat.

Preparing For Bullies

Catha’s hair glistened in the Celtic way
Druids would have worshipped her
A sprinkle of cinnamon on her arms
Her face pixie-like and heart shaped
People fell in love with her
Scottish, Irish and Druids claimed her

We were five when Ma spun the Catha stories.
For our benefit, to honor our McCormick ginger hair. 
To help us feel normal with our copper hair
And our plethora of freckles. 

Born near Stonehenge, 
Gifted with a soothsayer’s heart
She was more fey than the faeries
More gypsy than the Romans.
Clairaudient and clairsentient, 
She sensed brownies, elves, and poltergeists

We were seven when our classmates began to bully us
Making fun of our McCormick ginger hair. 
To try and make us feel ashamed of our copper hair
And our plethora of freckles, but it did not work
For we were like Catha, the pride of the clan.
Mother’s preparation suiting us up to ignore their evil taunts.

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