Those Catholic Boyhood Blues

I swig no crafted microbrew,

no bottle sleek with booze:

I still know where my house-keys are;

I haven't lost my shoes:

I stay awake past four a m,

until the morning news:

      I've got those insomniacal

      twelve-step hopelessly romantic

      Catholic boyhood blues.


I'm watching the detectives, but

I'm awfully short on clues,

a member of the human race

who hasn't paid his dues,

a troubadour with much to gain

and not a lot to lose:

      I've got those up-all-night

      unrequitably misdirected

      Catholic boyhood blues.


I list my daily gratitudes

and mind my Ps and Qs:

the world invites me to a dance,

and how can I refuse?

There is a balm in Gilead

for every bump and bruise,

      even for those slumber-starved

      celibate ambidextrous

      Catholic boyhood blues.


I'm not a poet laureate,

Day Lewis or Ted Hughes,

but guzzle coffee by the quart

and write while others snooze:

a solid week of restful sleep,

that's something I could use!

      I've got those climbing-the-wall

      sober-sonneteering love-addicted

      Catholic boyhood blues.

Poetry by Thomas D The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 55 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2021-03-21 at 19:59

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Congratulations! Your poem has been chosen to be featured on our home page by a fellow member of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Wonderful writing!

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
A grand (a very GOOD work) Thomas. Well written work good use of words well expressed.
Ken D

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Thomas, you had me laughing at the first verse!I do sympathize. We we’re loaded down by catechism early on and it’s stuck with us ever since. Between bullying nuns and hell fire and damnation priests, we carry a lot of baggage! Good on you with the twelve step! Keep with the “insomniacal sonneteering”, Troubadour!