Lumber Paralysis

"The opposite of love is not hate, it's  indifference." Elie Wiese



feigning oblivion
to sprawled
lifeless lumber,
fallen,  felled

Our limbs loft
rigidly erect
proud,  aloof,
upstanding

we gaze skyward,
haughtily avoid
awkward  vista of
wretch stretched

uncouthly oozing
sap solution
over  our exclusive
deep-pile carpet

If anyone
asks...

we  heard

Nothing.

( If a tree fell in the forest and everyone pretended not to notice, would it make a sound? Are bears catholic? Does the pope shit in the woods? )

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

Queen of Ghosts

Triumvirate Deity, exalted by Zeus,
Hekate Queen of Ghosts am I,
Goddess of moonlight and magick,
Protectress of the wilderness

In Phrygia and Lagina
devout acolytes pay homage yet;
the lost and the swollen pray
for safe deliverance; safe delivery

Favouring ever my faithful,
sorcerers and necromancers
beseech favour: howling hounds
herald my intercessions

Wary traveller lost, receives
Divine guidance at crossed road,
Titan torch throws illumination
to light the righteous path

Queen of the Night, traversing
that precipice betwixt the worlds;
nourished by obeisant offerings
lost souls I steer to Hades' haven

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

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.