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paulmartincurry
paulmartincurry

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Published in

ILLUMINATION

·Pinned

Finally Grateful for the West

a poem about the eternal escape — One Hundred Days of Gratitude. Forty-seven. Unless you really need to run the setting sun just looks like the setting sun — a neat and tidy easy end of an amazingly American cowboy feature film (featuring perfectly tanned Italians) Unless you are a Spanish stallion who just escaped (or is slated…

Poem

1 min read

Finally Grateful for the West
Finally Grateful for the West
Poem

1 min read


Published in

ILLUMINATION

·Pinned

We Should Probably Thank Our Most Pretentious Parisians

a poem paying Paris her due — One Hundred Days of Gratitude. Forty. Oui, right. Right outside of Paris there’s a place that’s not quite, euh on the same level of living. A place with a less euh, sophisticated style and a less mmm perfect face. A place, called “how do you say… Everywhere Else” Bring the…

Poem

2 min read

We Should Probably Thank Our Most Pretentious Parisians
We Should Probably Thank Our Most Pretentious Parisians
Poem

2 min read


Published in

ILLUMINATION

·Pinned

a new patriot in the nation of two

a poem about betraying your country and being loyal only to love — Inspired by Kurt Vonnegut’s Mother Night Come, my beautiful comrade, compassionate compatriot and only friend. It’s time for the fire again. Come, let’s burn our stupid blue passports Let’s burn that beautiful flag they wave in front of our eyes, so we can’t see who dies. Let’s burn down that…

Poetry

2 min read

a new patriot in the nation of two
a new patriot in the nation of two
Poetry

2 min read


Pinned

to be a white rose

We should remember Sophie Scholl — If I could be like anything — (in shape and form and functioning) I should be like The White Roses. Knowing surely there would be a day, they’d all be picked and plucked and pulled away. Still stubbornly growing. (bigger, bolder, braver, ever outward toward the sun) Petals undone. Seeds…

Poetry

1 min read

To Be A White Rose
To Be A White Rose
Poetry

1 min read


Aug 10

Alexander The Pretty Good

a poem about potential for triumph and/or death — Still a boyish bubbled thirty-three Alex woke up pretty late, completely and pretty still, doing pretty great underneath mother Macedonia’s Vergina Sun and brightburning sky undisturbed, not that much world at stake. not that much on his golden plate — armor, around here — somewhere he swears, someday — he’ll own all of everything. At least that’s what Mom said. If he could just manage to escape his grand canopy bed. Just 33, he’d be Emperor, God, Alexander the Great Alex the already dead.

Poem

1 min read

Alexander The Pretty Good
Alexander The Pretty Good
Poem

1 min read


Aug 9

Remember The Roma

A poem praising the unsung Romani rebellion of Auschwitz — CW: Holocaust, Genocide, Ethnic Slurs When the surviving Roma realized, that their grey demons had decided the Porajmos, (the destruction) (the devouring) their final time, had come, that their blood (their families’) (their children’s) would run down a well-maintained Zyklon shower drain — . . . When the “other” prisoners…

Poetry

2 min read

Remember The Roma
Remember The Roma
Poetry

2 min read


Published in

ILLUMINATION

·Jun 17

Destroying My Damned Monument

a poem about dismantling a monument to my sadness There it is and I’m still sorry it’s there, on the highest hill owning everything it sees of me, Sad, not just because it’s been there since we let ourselves remember, at least. The most. …

Poetry

2 min read

Destroying My Damned Monument
Destroying My Damned Monument
Poetry

2 min read


Published in

ILLUMINATION

·Apr 13

Still Sometimes Sleeptalking

a poem about our nights — At night, and during the day but at night. We tell ourselves we don’t miss her. We’re just lonely. The proof is in just how far she’s gone, since she moved on and on. So instead of her we say we need curves’ caresses. Instead of that soft voice in the night, another woman’s whisper sounds alright We know it’s true. We know. It’s true. Look at all of you. Just sometimes still, almost asleep, it almost sounds

Free Verse

1 min read

Still Sometimes Sleeptalking
Still Sometimes Sleeptalking
Free Verse

1 min read


May 31, 2022

50 miles West of Me Today

Uvalde should break us. Make us tear hair. Make us scream in the street. A kid shot and killed A child filled full of bullets A daughter lost all her blood A son slaughtered screaming A niece erased from the earth A nephew pumped with lead and holes A 9-year-old…

Free Verse

1 min read

50 miles West of Me Today
50 miles West of Me Today
Free Verse

1 min read


Published in

ILLUMINATION

·Apr 8, 2022

Finally Grateful for the Ever Exhausting In-between

a poem about enjoying life before you know where it lands — One Hundred Days of Gratitude. Fifty. As uncomfortable as it is — at least we don’t have proof that the cat is dead and alone in a box. Frozen there in frozen air, even if after, they crash and crumple into hard ice and soft snow as bulbs flash and…

Poem

1 min read

Finally Grateful for the Ever Exhausting In-between
Finally Grateful for the Ever Exhausting In-between
Poem

1 min read

paulmartincurry

paulmartincurry

214 Followers

likes / wants / needs to write poetry apparently

Following
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    Marcus aka Gregory Maidman

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    Dennett

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    Gregory D. Welch

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