January 31, 2012 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION






Out there, somewhere



Steve Murphy


Heavy, stinging, bloodshot eyes

looking out on a world 



woven with strands of fairground music.



The Waltzer swirling thoughts violently

inside a moss covered rock 



canals, crevasses of ice sided cliffs:



impossible to climb; hands and feet

keep slipping, falling deeper 



Picasso expressed abstract – unique among fools.



Foolish attempts to exhume all

but the very crystal of being –



the Dove has hope encased in his thin black collar



opened when found – by then it’s too late.


And the Song Thrush sings

                                      a tune?

                                                of merriment





Mistaken Identity



Steve Murphy


sweat pours down your cold-flushed brow

your only crime to look like him

ripped flesh oozes gushing blood


in ecstasy the enemy screeches



one more knocker on peters door

you never knew – they weren’t your foe

angels wings drip youthful blood


and hell awaits the screechers



dante spoke at length of hell

purgatory no escape

for those who don’t repent at will


eternity spent burning screeching


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  1. Michael Allen April 30, at 23:52

    Doesn't it seem there's a revivial in poetry? Not so much with the poets, but with the readers and the listeners? It seems to me that there's a greater audience now in place to appreciate the art.

    • Administrator April 30, at 23:58

      Yes, I agree with you Michael. Oddly, the very thing we attack for destroying attention spans and polluting an entire generation with illiteracy is in fact, responsible for a sort of renaissance poetically and artistically. As a poet I find the immediacy of this medium a gift but of course curse is that to get to the art you must wade through a few feet of muck. It's lovely to have you here and to read your comment, please visit again.

  2. Selma February 09, at 01:00

    Hi Elizabeth. I really like your use of water and colour. Your poetry has a vividness that makes the emotion contained in it come to life. Terrific!

  3. Selma February 08, at 22:30

    Hi Feltsensejunkie. I really like your use of colour. There is a poignancy to your work that is quite moving. Very well done!

  4. Selma February 08, at 22:29

    Hi Jennifer. An exquisite piece. Delicate, almost ethereal imagery. The sparrow thin wrists provide such a striking image!

    • Jennifer February 18, at 01:30

      Hi Selma, Thanks so much for your thoughtful comments. I am pleased you enjoyed my work.

  5. Selma February 08, at 22:27

    Hi Marsha. You have just covered two of my favourite subjects - sitting in a tinny and watching a crane. Love both poems. I love the image of the village scurrying at the back of the seabird. That is fantastic!

  6. Selma February 08, at 22:25

    Hi Steve. You present very powerful images. Your poetry has a great impact. Really like the line - 'the Dove has hope encased in his thin black collar.' Oh, yes.

  7. Selma February 08, at 22:23

    Hi Jessica. Beautiful work. 'And Speak of Shadows' is just glorious. And I can relate to your 'Occupy' poem...

    • Jessica February 13, at 16:09

      Hi Selma, thank you kindly! My first comment :)

  8. Selma February 08, at 22:21

    Hi, Guy. I really like your poetry. Your image of the turquoise water between exposed rocks is just gorgeous. Very, very nice!

  9. swichman February 07, at 05:34

    Lovely words..........for me they create paintings. Great to read your work here!


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