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Graham Mcguire Poem
Golly, what a Pickle you’re In -- Bub,
How is it That you’re stuck in a Pub?
Gullible -- You look, Pimp
for why not hop, on Blimps?
and Fly in its Massive Ruba-dub.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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Graham Mcguire Poem
The prancing Animal
Through the Woods it Went,
That house Full of Wool,
That was Truly — a Tent.
“Has the Hole been Dug?”
How had It Gone?
Hunting the animalistic Bug,
How saddening, Ron.
Antelope, insect,
Appealing or Not,
A many will not be too checked —
As they weren't Noticed -- Through the Knots.
Never, or Ever -- will The Big bug Bite,
Not again For the Bug of greatest Of Sizes.
“No, not bug, But some Blight” --
Ness, You will Not win those Prizes.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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Graham Mcguire Poem
“Bang, Bang”,
It may Feel
Sometimes, when You’re getting
Them.
A giant list,
Requests, And All,
Complaints!
Concerns!
And worst Of all Tall,
Excessive Pleas,
to be Incomprehensible.
Preposterously Useless
to the Naked eye.
Providing No
Interesting Information
as Claymation,
Is to One,
While
animation is an Art to some,
It Depends all upon,
The Jolly sum --
Of Many feeling a,
Beautiful bird
Soar,
With Painted Wings,
Fly,
Differently than,
Claymationists.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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Graham Mcguire Poem
As Far as our Eyes will see,
In a Vast, and seemingly
endless World
to the Future’s greatest of Extents,
in a little Hut,
Hidden in a Swamp,
Lies little Old
Ms.
Garratha.
with the few who Reside
alongside.
They Eventually found
a Beautiful spring,
during their driest of seasons,
although seasoning doesn’t matter --
when It’s Wet twenty-four --
Seven.
The Decision to have a whiff,
without a -- Sniffer, may Just have been
the primary decision
For
Why this whole
story
Started.
Beginning with Licks,
progressing to Great
Tastes,
Has Brought together,
the
new Holy,
Wooly Serpent.
As No one has
seen
A serpent of coat,
since;
How often can you
find --
one of this Kind?
They Just so Happened
to
Land this amazement,
as For the water,
was not salty
At All.
Nor Was it clean, of
every Potential,
creating the Monster, Seen.
An ancient Serpent’s hair,
clogged much of its
safety,
and this water,
had much of
serpent’s Father.
His scales and much
Rein.
Slithering Out of this sort-of Creation,
came
Serpent Himself,
Shining without,
armour.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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Graham Mcguire Poem
God bless
And blue,
Seawise,
and green
How colorful
Red to pink, and
orange or Yellow.
Nothing to Bellow.
Bellow — to Nothing.
Yellow or Orange,
and Pink to
Red — Colorful.
How Green,
and
Seawise
Blue
and
Bless God.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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Graham Mcguire Poem
Blubber, don’t
Bloober.
Blibber, don’t
Blabber.
Nothing -- is Greater than
Blue — fake Green
and Its smell;
Sharp Needles --
forever, to,
Ever.
Held In their
long -- Immense
Arms,
full of Fake
Cones.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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Graham Mcguire Poem
The Ones who Teach,
help us Learn,
And in The End,
become, a Quick source of
a Friend.
We are Bound to Seperate,
And Fall to different Lines
or Paths.
But Maybe,
—Still—
Make a Friend.
Copyright © Graham McGuire | Year Posted 2025
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