graham-murphy
Irish
I'm like any other poet. I've got a good sense of humor that's twisted. I was raised well and now I question what I was told. Most importantly My own sub-conscience fights with itself in an attempt to create a worldly understanding. I'm just an ordinary kinda bloke really from the Republic of Ireland.
This looks very strange to me.
I am from the Island,
And...
You never see it.
This blue sky spreads a beautiful
Calmness amongst everyone and everything.
The birds chirp, the people do their gardening
And speak nice things about their neighbours.
And yet,
In the corner of a dark room,
There I sit.
Alone.
Alone and angry.
The path has split and cracked
And I stagger with drunken fury.
All the way home.
This endless rage burns,
And burns through my words.
But at who?
What for?
The sea is dark, blue and empty.
The ship bobs in the churning water,
As one man pulls endlessly at fishnets,
But vultures circle above waiting for him to starve.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
There is someone in my dreams.
They talk to me and tell me things,
But, none of it makes any sense.
A soft scratching sound at the back of my skull.
Soft and continuous,
Like stone on stone.
They are trying to dig their way out.
This is frightening me!
Please tell them to stop!
I cannot stop my hands from shaking,
From sweating,
From grasping and pulling each finger with nervousness.
I close my eyes and...
There! There they are,
Their eyes, just eyes, staring back.
They can see me and hear me,
And taunt me.
Why do they taunt me?
A copper taste in my mouth,
Makes me get sick on the floor,
As the doctor runs to call for help.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
Cycling down the forest path,
The sunlight glittering,
Streaming between the leaves and the branches.
The trickling sound of water makes me chuckle,
Delirious and smiling from ear to ear,
A child discovering.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
An entire world shredded,
By the fingers of greed.
Pathetic.
The Celtic Tiger,
Shone most brightly,
From the depths of the Atlantic.
Darwin would be proud.
But not even he could reap the benefits.
As they did.
The Celtic Tiger died.
But...
From the ashes wakes...
A child.
It is my burden,
To nourish it.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC
I walk a free man.
I am not to be told of my sins,
By a man who lives in chains.
The cane that leads the shepherd,
Was shown by the prophet,
To be a serpent.
Together, the "free willed" oppress me.
While I stand alone against,
This heavy onslaught.
They were given life,
And they waste it on themselves.
Sharing only their enthusiasm,
For my oppression.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:50 PM UTC
Love does not last,
In time or space.
In memory,
It has no place.
But in my heart,
You'll always be.
No time apart,
Forget you, me.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
The wind in the trees,
Me kissing your lips.
A soft mellow breeze,
My hand on your hips.
Lying on the grass,
On a hot summers day.
Never needing,
Feeling,
That feeling,
So grey.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
A sigh,
Your breath,
Your hand in mine.
No need to make,
This poem rhyme.
For,
My love,
All you can take.
My love,
My hand,
My endless lake,
Of love,
Of passion,
Of this young boy,
For this man's love,
Is not a toy.
Just go fishing,
Into the blue.
For my love,
Is all for you.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC
Why not?
Give it a go...
It is one thing,
To say no.
Just say yes.
Just once for me.
If not then,
Just once for thee.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:20 PM UTC
Black as night,
The sky so blue.
Bright as day,
The stars are too.
In your eyes I see the world,
And in the world I see your life.
In your eyes I see you whole.
Your hopes,
Your dreams.
Don't let them hold.
Be free and wild,
As you should be.
Even if,
Means leaving me.
Though break my heart,
It would make.
Anything for you,
I take.
GRAHAM MURPHY
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC