Ides of March

Languished in imperial robe,
with precious amethyst trimmed,
hands clap impatiently
for Nubian slave to pamper them
with plump Etruscan grapes,
blood-red wine,
figs and pomegranates

The two, in regal lavender attired,
lips now stained crimson,
reminisce as soldiers.
Proud victories in Gaul
and triumph over Pharsalus.

A rendezvous agreed
in Pompey's theatre,
one rises, gives salute,
prepares to leave

Unconsciously, his hand
slips toward his scabbard,
his thoughts to future glory;
nobility and riches
when the deed is done.

On his left temple
A single vein throbs,
Purple

P.J. Murphy
(c) P.J. Murphy 2005

Note: This was an entry for one of a series of Allpoetry.com contests with colour themes, this one being 'Purple' 

Julies Caesar was murdered on the 15th March (The Ides of March) by his friend Brutus and others. This piece depicts Brutus' final meeting with Caesar, sharing his friendship and wine, but with treachery and murder in his heart


 

Quietude

dusky
descendants
of quixotic
mutineers

perform
practiced
perfected
polynesian dance

erotic

on soft
Tahitian sand

my hands
drip with dregs
of spilt exotic
citrus

sundried
by lustrous lagoon
insidious
hynotic tune
and rhythm
consume

dancers,
semiclad,
gyrate,

waves lap...


shrill
shriek

shatters
mood of
quietude

Rude
awakening

Rainy
Irish
Monday...

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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Cleansed

I came to wash away my woe
in the grand and glorious Ganges.
Your wise and wizened eyes
beheld me, held me transfixed
betwixt my anguish and your calm.

The balm of cooling currents
easing dark, troubled soul,
soothing dried, tired skin.
A kinship unforeseen, furnished
from burnished ivory, liquid gaze

The ways of Gods are mystery.
Our histories for centuries entwined -
I find soft succour in your presence,
your essence nourishing, uplifting.
No longer drifting; I am cleansed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Amazing Race - Round 2 (Picture theme)"

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Moonstruck

Moonstruck     P.J. Murphy

Okay, I appreciate that you've

been always there for me
through each long tortuous,
restless, sleepless night

And brightened up the gloom
each time I broke down when
some floozy made my fickle
foolish fragile heart a mess

And yes, 'twas you who kept me
company when no other friends
were there to offer comfort
in my deepest darkest night

But, right now I just feel
That I can't furnish any answers
to your sad fixation with this
fiery, feisty object of your lust

I must point out to you, in fact
that you have chased this hot
and haughty goddess, with no ray of hope
for thousands of millenia now

And how much longer, my pale friend
Can you sail sadly through the night
hoping for a glimpse or sight of she
who always dodges you till dawn?

And ~yawn~ you know it's really late
I don't feel great and need my sleep
I'd love to keep you company but
We both know she'll hide until you're gone

Just one last piece of genuine advice
- there are millions out there who
are twice as nice, and like to hang around
with you, I've even seen them swoon...

So goodnight moon, aw - please don't cry
There's plenty more stars in the sky...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Goodnight Moon",  

 www.guitarsongs.info pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com

Aurora Corporalis

Aurora Corporis           P. J. Murphy

bursts of
flame's glory
in moments
before
ember fades
and dies



exhausted;
exothermic
energy
explodes -

Magdala Red
and
Magnesium
Orange -



the colours
of a soul

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was submitted to an Allpoetry Contest "Prewrite Party".

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pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com
 

Amber

Amber             P.J. Murphy

Arboreal sap oozes lazily; 

Embroiled in glutinous trap, 

unwary arachnid 

freeze-frames an ecosystem 

long ago erased 

Information 

imprisoned 

in resin 

intact; 

Fast-forward through millenia: 

Primeval life-secrets revealed 

as learned spider-men gaze 

through translucent windows 

of amber 

 This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Dirty Brown", and won the Gold Trophy.

Pop!

Pop!         P.J. Murphy

Bobbing among the giggles
Transparent, but with rainbow hues
like sprites they magically appear
and dance misshapen by puffcheek winds

Filling the room with luminescence
and small throats with laughter
dismay at pings of evaporation
replaced with tentative replenishment

reflecting the flickering candles,
and bright and shiny birthday things
restless and impatient to be gone
they wend their way relentlessly

into memories

~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Where does it go?"
 
pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com

Sinecure

He remembers a time
when he was the centre
of the circle.

A social hub, a club
close colleagues, no -
more than that -
firm friends...

Spontaneous
sojourns to the pub
on Friday evenings
...just for a quick one.

Rolling home
at Eleven-thirty
bursting with
camaraderie
and a full bladder.

A pleasant institution
in their voluntary
institutionalised
Public Service
sinecure

So hard to
stick a pin
in the point
of change

Drive.
Disillusionment.
Disinterest.
Dismissals.
Dispersals.

Deaths.


All leading toward
this unfamiliar place
sharing space with
strangers with names.

Hearty
hallos
in halls.
Hollow.

Next Friday
they will
toast his health
tell bawdy
half-remembered
stories, badly.

Exaggerate his
achievements.
Present him with
their heartfelt gift

( travel vouchers
he will never use -
he has no heart for travel
since he lost her.
How would they know? )

Monday
the alarm will ring.
He will turn it off
one final time.

He will accept
well meant
invitations
to future
Friday frolics.

Until
one Friday
the strangers
will have no names.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was an entry for an Allpoetry contest where the prompt was the line "strangers with names", and won the Bronze trophy for 3rd place in the contest

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com

Bull

Ok, so we've
lied a little

They need our lies -
our reconstruction
of the fables
is what keeps them
hanging on to
the dream


The faithful.
Bless 'em.

Follow us
on the
fast-track
to Heaven


They swallow it all
- transubstantiation
( literally...)
the whole
omnipotent
omniscient and
omnipresent God
trichotomy

explained
expertly,
excursively...

ethically
morally
mystically


Divine Mystery

Say it often enough, it acquires substance
Two thousand years of repetition
create an article of faith most absolute
for those in fervent need of absolution


We make the world
a better place
as fear of Hellfire
and damnation
( did I mention 'Vengeful?' )
keep them in check -
a docile flock
the Good Shepherd
ensures
the silence
of the lambs

So we will continue
to fire our canon
at the ninety-nine
who suckle on it's
outpourings
perpetuated by this
Papal Bull.

Ah... Men...

~~~~~~~~~~~

This was an entry for an AllPoetry Contest "Take a step back ( Round 2 )" http://allpoetry.com/contest/2374596 and won Gold for 1st place


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Poetry

Transplanted

Liquid eyes as dewdrops
on pinkening petal-cheeks
lips suffused, smolder with promises ;
intoxicating fragrances
permeate sepal, buds, corolla
of this exquisite Celtic bloom

The sanguine Spanish sun,
accustomed ever to smile upon
a well-stocked rose bed of it's own
reflects the radiant glory of an Irish rose
nurtured by it's balmy bounty
and has the grace to blush.


~~~~~~~~~


I am from Ireland, and this was written to my wife, whose beauty flourished and was burnished exotic in the warm and splendid Spanish sun - the fiery beauty of Spain, in its turn, was enhanced by her presence.

Sometimes you need to transplant a rose to a sunnier place to realise how very beautiful it is.

Man, you been a naughty boy....

encouragingly
tho fragile
I have
not yet
cracked...


despite
scrambling clear
of a dozen
sizzling
attempts
including
some near-miss
crack squad
shell attacks

out of the firing line
into the (friendly) fire
bubbling in hot water,
hard-boiled

sitting ducks lay, while
the chicken's safe in it's coop

but

this will not
be over easy

Mister Bush

I am the egg man
There's a one-legged man
You have the war lust

goo goo g'joob...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Egg" 

pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com 

I'll have you to remember...

Through the heavy clouds of grief
The melodies still find their way
The voice ageless, sweet, comforting
The songs, old, familiar friends
Lifting heavy hearts in the long days
Lulling loved ones to weary sleep at night


The glittering trophies reflect the joy
In the hearts of all who heard her sing
And the deep pride of her loving family
Her rock of support for each performance
Marked with hushed respect while she enthralled
And rapturous applause when song was ended


'Sunrise, Sunset', 'Sweet Sixteen',
'When I grow too old to dream'
'Yidisha Mama', 'Summertime', 'Croce Di Oro'
Old songs, classic songs, sung by many
But imbued with her innocence of youth
And wisdom of age, assumed a new and vibrant life


Her family was her world, and now her legacy
Fine people, kind-hearted and compassionate
Filled with her spirit, strength and courage
Her music, the expression of her love for them
Truth rang timeless in every breath of her singing
It's echoes resound as long as there are memories

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Nan Cullimore (my late mother-in-law), her spirit and her voice live on.

Minstrel (Than Bauk Climbing Rhyme)

  
fingers pluck strings
soft he sings of
the things to come

bass notes hum low
with drumming sound
his queen crowned by

profound love rhyme
in waltz-time with
sublime soft voice

that his choice may
rejoice, her knight
croons of night tryst

by light of moon
they will soon be
in tune, as one.

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Climbing Rhyme", and won the Gold Trophy 

City Lights Fade

Inert gases
tout tawdry
titillations

Illuminate
paved paths
to hellish
haunts

Bad intentions
in sin soaked
stagnant pond

Lurid
invitations
dazzle -
guzzle,
gamble
drink,
debauch...

illicit felicity,
fun and frolic
unfurled in
neon netherworld

~~~

Disenchanted
denizen
forges Ford
forward
- final glance
at pallid promises -
- Gomorrah still
glows gaudy

Firefly flits,
points pathway
to reality,
to civilized
enlightenment

In rear-view
mirror
Babylon
burnishes
fainter,
ever
fainter

Along with
it's
delusive
dreams

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Errant Panther's Race - Round 3"

The Iceman Cometh

Pressing onward
through unbreathable
crystallized air
- feeling in
most limbs
long disappeared

Lower digits
blackened, inside
thick snowboots
- gangrenous concerns
pushed to back
of numbed
consciousness

Team-spirit
the driving force
- the team
unfortunately
reduced by one -
interred in icy grave
with scant
frost-hurried
ceremony

Ultimate destination
still several
hundred miles away
but driven, like this
frozen, solid air,
forced by Arctic winds
into reluctant,
pneumonic lungs,
they trudge
northward


Thoughts of home
- wives, children,
parents, friends -
pushed to backs of
tired, demented minds
focused on the quest
to forge claim to
a barren wilderness
- for a country
and a world
who could not care less..


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Moraine and Poganip", and won the Gold Trophy for first prize www.pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com

Face Down

fondly imagining
it gave him
an attitude;
a mark of maturity
placing him
apart from
those kids
he'd outgrown;
he stroked it
meditatively,
imagined how
the girls
would be impressed
at it's splendour.

lost in
lascivious thought,
oblivious to
the knob
turning
on the
bathroom door

started at
his brother's
sardonic voice -
"what's with
the bum-fluff
... dork?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Face Down"

pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com

Samael ( One foot in the Grave )

There is an angel balanced on my toe
my leg is taut and aches so much.
But I cannot ask her just
to go. I do wish she might
be just a little bolder -
after all it's not such
a long distance flight to reach
my shoulder.

Beside my ear, such a handy spot
to make the purpose of her visit
clear. And it's pretty much where
you'd expect her to perch
if only to be circumspect.
She'd also be a lot less prone to
topple if one suddenly were
to lurch .

As well one might.
It's not that it is such a
very common sight - an Angel
perched on one's lower digit.
Giving rise to this strange and sudden
urge to fidget. Oh, at last, she's moving,
now perhaps I can ask about my
present, and my past .. and what's ahead

Oh God...

I'm dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Angel Balanced on my Toe" 

 

 pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com

Cimmerian Night

In endless shadow
between the Caucasus
and the Black Sea
are we, Brem and Bolg
Gimirri, royalty.

Conquerors of Lydia,
of mighty Phrygia
and it's Golden King,
we ride tirelessly
under obsidian sky

Our ebon steeds from
Hades fires freed
with raven feathers plumed.
No need have we
for Helios' ray

In doleful day
and pitchblack night
we wage our wars
and rule, where onyx
masters gold.

Note: This was a contest entry in an AllPoetry contest, theme was "Cimmerian Night"

Flamingo Surprise

Like fledgling flamingos they roll
blushing, giggling, playful.
Nearly-naked, clothes strewn anywhere
they play their new-lovers games.

Tawny limbs in impossible tangles,
rolling over obstacles unnoticed
as they traverse the coral seas
of the once pure woolen carpet -

- a salmon canvas for their abstract art.
Skins carnation blush as rush of blood
Flushes to populate the vessels of erogeneity
carmine lips nibble fleshy lobe

Laughter uncontrolled, unrestrained
a cacophony as pink bodies squirm and writhe
presently the laughing will subside
as Rosy Nature urges solemn lusty purpose

Lights go up
the freeze-frame shows
two flamingos
Tickled pink.

P.J. Murphy
(c) P.J. Murphy 2005

Note: This was an entry for one of a series of Allpoetry.com contests with colour themes, this one being 'Pink'