Memory of paschal purple. Fat candle lit on lenten alter. Pennies for St. Anthony's box and light a candle for a soul. Glow of piety tastes sweeter than the sacrificed confections Stations of the cross feeling the pain of the thorns on this poor scourged Man The weight of the wood bearing heavy on 9-year-old shoulders as I fall for a third time Confession in the drab mornings early before school Purge the dastardly sins. Lies, deceit and disobedience, selfishness and greed He died for these, for my transgressions Palm strewn church entrance "Hosanna in the highest..." but I know how this will end Why do they celebrate? Wednesday's heinous betrayal leading to that calamitous Friday Kiss the feet on the cross return to kneel and pray Wait until the crowd has gone Perhaps they'll find me dead here my pure soul ascended straight to heaven Like the story the nun's told Easter Sunday - he has risen! Triple mass - two stoic hours No hurry home for Easter eggs I know that my redeemer liveth and sins are banished and souls are cleansed P.J. Murphy (c) P.J. Murphy 2005
Monday, June 13, 2005
Easter childhood naivete
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
Suffer little Children...
What would Jesus have to say ... about a world where wealth is king compassion a forgotten thing where powermongers rant and lie and somewhere else their victims die Aids and Famine ravage lands.. they fill their avaricious hands pay lip-service to the ones in need while worshipping the fruits of greed Their war-chests with no questions filled ensure more innocents are killed diseased young children gasp for breath but money must be spent on death Remember, God is on our side forget about the ones who've died ... I know exactly what He'd say.. "It's all my fault For not calling a halt to that whole goddamn Crucifixion" Note: This was an entry ( http://allpoetry.com/Poem/1326215 ) for an AllPoetry.Com competition on the subject of AIDS/Third World poverty. Please don't take the final lines as profanity, they are merely a personal vision of the frustration of a Son of God who might wonder why He gave up His life to save the world, only to look down now on a world which doesn't give-a-shit. There is a line in the Bible where Christ says "Suffer little children to come unto me....". I really don't think this is what he meant. P.J. Murphy (c) P.J. Murphy 2005http://www.guitarsongs.info/ Guitar Lessons+Guitar Tips+DVD Lessons+Voice Tutor+Piano Lessons Poetry
Labels:
P.J. Murphy poetry,
poems,
Suffer Little Children
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
Somewhere else...
Somewhere else the payload scatters pre-emptive, or perhaps reprisal no malice toward the shattered humanity just 'assuring our survival'
The weeping and gnashing of the few fragmented teeth fail to come to our attention obscured by the Simpsons and the seven o clock news - where it doesnt get a mention (c) P.J. Murphy 2005
Labels:
P.J. Murphy poems,
PJ Murphy poetry,
Somewhere Else
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
In Vino Veritas
Funny thing is, I'd never even tasted it, but Chartreuse was the first thing that came to mind, looking up in my half-awakened state at four or five yellow-green translucent beings seeming to hover over the metallic table on which I lay. Sounds ( presumably voices ) in a pitch I couldn't quite pin down - vibrato, sometimes off the scale completely but with a benign, not hostile tone. My body numb, but not hospital-numb, more a 'too much green liquor' floating sensation. Futuristic diodes pointing fading honey-lime light at various parts of my anatomy indicated probing of some kind had taken place, though I felt no pain or discomfort. And their soothing Carthusian monk-chant sounded like they were concerned, caring ... Anyways, there was an explosive firework sensation, next thing I'm back in my car at the side of the road. Dark as pitch, but somehow a tinge of luminous green seeming to emanate from me, but fading. Of course, no-one believed me, still don't, so I don't talk about it anymore. But since you asked, I had to explain that I keep this bottle for remembrance, not consumption. Won't you have something else instead? Creme-de-Menthe? Benedictine? (c) P.J. Murphy 2005Note: This was an entry for one of a series of Allpoetry.com contests with colour themes, this one being 'Chartreuse'
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
The Sorest Loser (with apologies to Roget)
Betweeen the devil and the cobalt sea I seem dismally to be. Bawdy, ribald obscenities hide disconsolate, melancholy thoughts. Though I've cried 'till I'm gorgonzola in the face, never in a sapphire moon will you agree to take your place as my "something borrowed" bride. As your preference is to swoon over those ultra marine and navy guys. I gaze with peril into those averted forget-me-not eyes and sadly whisper "...Beryl" P.J. Murphy (c) P.J. Murphy 2005Note: This was a tongue-in-cheek entry for one of a series of AllPoetry.Com contests, where the themes were colours ( this one being Blue ) www.guitarsongs.info
Labels:
P.J. Murphy poetry,
PJ Murphy poems,
poems,
The Sorest Loser
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
Time Space Continuum
In another town, another country She sits, cross-legged on the parquet Smiling as she reads an email from her son on the laptop he bought for her birthday Presently she'll go out to the porch, read a book, put her earphones on He wonders if she still likes Steinbeck or plays Cohen, maybe Doctor John In a corner of her memory do they still walk that raindrenched pier? In a corner of her heart is there a flame, In a corner of her eye a budding tear? For that frozen moment when the Gods Capricious, callous and perverse Decree a storm of words, a thunderbolt Thus sundering the universe He doesn't know her mail address Her son's called Ben, or is it Steve? He could look her number up, I guess But what the hell would that achieve? Slice of life from another time Before the new world would begin Are her memories still shrinkwrapped Or grown stale and powder-thin? In another parallel existence Are their hands and destinies entwined In some futuristic astral plane Is her soul with his aligned?www.guitarsongs.info
Labels:
P.J. Murphy poetry,
poem,
Time Space Continuum
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Cause and Effect
Sodium Bicarbonate Cimetidine, Bromazepam There was a time when these were not a part of what I am When gastroscopy might just as well be probing into space There was a table of the elements where Barium had its place My bodystore of chemicals was supplemented only by quantities of alcohol, nicotine curry pies and mushy peas... ... and other 'drugs of choice' a distant voice in some strange dialect mutters something like .... 'cause... effect..?' P.J. Murphy Copyright ©2004 P.J. MurphyWebsite: http://www.guitarsongs.info
Labels:
Cause and Effect,
P. J. Murphy poetry,
poem
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Thoughts on St. Valentine's Day
Do I really need this signpost on love's highway This beacon over ardour's ocean This festival of passion's patron saint to remind me that I love you? My love for you is eternal Conceived at eyes first meeting Fanned by loves young flames Burnished by your radiant beauty Grown more, as my child-woman bride then child-mother, constant by my side Our love defeating all life's challenges Soaring upon it's many triumphs I know it as my truth that I will love you All through this life and beyond...forever... However... I proudly, loudly say I Love You, on this St. Valentine's Day P.J. Murphy (c) P.J. Murphy 2002Website: www.guitarsongs.info
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
Give 'em up?
Give 'em up? Can you not see that every fibre of my being clamours for this cigarette? Do you think I choose to take my place in the New Minority -with Ireland's New Age Lepers? My once cosy perch on society's ladder now hovering precariously in this bitter wind Three rungs up from miscreant priests one down from smug corrupt bureaucrats No, stand with me here in the sleet and the shame, my friend. Then remind me again That I choose to smoke P. J. Murphy (c) P.J. Murphy Jan 2005
Labels:
Give 'em up?,
P. J. Murphy poetry,
PJ Murphy poems,
poem
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
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