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David Murphy May 2016
Staring blankly at the pavement.
No longer caring to dodge the puddles as he meandered along the uneven,cracked greyness of the town.
Half wishing he had brought a jacket.
The people walked around him namelessly.
The only face he had wanted to see had made him pray for blindness.
But infatuation had beat him to it.
David Murphy Feb 2017
Grey suit, Black sky,
Yellow socks, No tie,
Blue heart, White lies,
Orange flame, Red eyes.
David Murphy Jan 2017
Though her case was rather heavy, you'd never have guessed by looking at her carry it. Brown leather as I recall. I remember thinking that her maroonish poncho was chosen to complement the case. It was certainly not to cater for the weather. Rain. Something which hadn't been seen for at least four days by then. As you can imagine, she was not the only one who was fashionably unprepared. I myself was fortunate enough to have worn a hat.

Men with makeshift newspaper umbrellas cursed as they rumbled by with a diagonal posture of urgency. I suspect they were displeased to say the least. She however,  seemed not to notice the rain. She stood on the platform as drop after drop it danced on her cheeks now red from the cold. She wore no make up from what I could tell. Perhaps a small amount. She was fantastically plain in appearance, not unattractive. But perfectly average. She seemed distracted. I briefly considered engaging in conversation with her but this idea was inconsiderately interrupted by the ever nearing whistle of the train that was due to cart us to Blackpool. Through the wet stripey air I could see the steam-cloud thin out and disappear to the heavens. As it approached she gave one last glance around at which point I made eye contact. She abliged me with a bashful  smile and retreated her attention back to the train.

Setting her case down by her ankle for the first time since arriving on the platform. She took two steps, larger than her regular gait.  and a third that would she her land but inches from the nose of the slowing train. I didn't scream. Or shout. To be honest I didn't know I had seen anything until the police came. Her case was filled with clothes, a hairbrush and a small mirror.

I got the next train with everyone else.
David Murphy Jun 2016
He feels too much.
I don't worry when he's like this.
But when he becomes desensitised by it all..
Numb..
That's when I will be frightened.
David Murphy Jan 2017
A cracked vase will hold flowers but not water to nurture.
As a broken man will hold lovers but not dare to love.
David Murphy May 2016
To coax emotion and entice desire
To exaggerate feeling, exhaust and tire
Of twisted roots and seamless truths
That split at the end to love and offend.
Silence the burden,
Smile and pretend.
David Murphy Jun 2016

My favourite word.
Everything about it to me echoes its meaning. To see it stand alone is strange. A discomfort. A feeling of strange.
David Murphy May 2016
Driving along the back-roads of Clare,
Sunny but coming to the end of the day.
Window half down,
Left hand on his knee,
The other holding the last few drags of a cigarette.
Using only the heel of his hand to guide the car along the scribble of road with minimal effort.

A song came waltzing through the lo-fidelity speakers of his blue Cortina.
A song he hadn't heard in years,
As he had avoided it where he could.
He thought about turning it off but retreated his hand back to his knee,
Tapping his faded work jeans to the rhythm.
Smoked the last of the cigarette
And ejected it before winding up the window to **** the rumble of the wind.
Turning up the radio he sang along to the duet,
As they had done before.
It had been seven years.
He still leaves the gaps for her to sing.
Never again to be filled.
David Murphy Jun 2016
I've been acquainted with the lady in the blue dress.
More than once.
She's the tall, little blonde girl with the dark hair.
Standing by the bar you frequent when you have nowhere else to go.
She's pretty. Sometimes.
(Though it really need not matter)
You buy her a drink, hoping she'll exchange it for temporary lust.
A supplement for what you've lost.
I've been acquainted with the lady in the blue dress.
A concept rather than a person
David Murphy May 2016
Breathing heavily under the vindicating bandana,
Skipping steps over the rain soaked grey.
Partners in an ecstasy of divilment,
Their paths plait through the crowd to the meeting place.
The adrenaline only can last for so long.
David Murphy May 2016
Remember that the most miserable man in the world smiles and tells everyone he's okay.
David Murphy May 2016
Swimming along the bed of the night sky,
The Rat lurked to appear and disappear between the luminatons of bystanding street lights too ignorant to notice.
Stealing into your big city garden.
With mischief to make.
Hopefully not again.
This time.
David Murphy May 2016
Maliciously trying to divide the attention of the men so occupied with their own affairs.
Dressed in a silhouette, she knew it wouldn't be long,
Before she'd remove her grawlix,
To antagonise and ostracise the fool in her jungle.

He didn't seem to mind though.
David Murphy Nov 2016
Help

Whimpered in whispers to a pillow with no ears or reason to care. Though I'd still ask.

Do you feel it?

I do.

Spontaneous but inevitable she comes. Just to remind me of my oils curdling in the depths to resurface. Vile but precious.

Again to no-one,
help.
David Murphy May 2016
She never liked the way she looked in photographs.
But today even she felt as beautiful as she truly was.
Her new red laced dress looked as though it was only ever intended for her body.

Across the room through my vignetted gaze, our eyes met.
She offered a bashful smile through her lipstick and retreated her soft brown eyes to the floor.

In a fantasy I had hoped she would be charming and witty.
That we could relate in humour and music.

I'd never have the nerve to find out.
David Murphy May 2016
Give an infant a blank canvas and paints and watch him instantaneously dress the white square with sloppy lines of reds, blues and yellows.
Crossing each other in no logical sequence.
Mixing into awful shades of greens and browns.
But observe his face as he does so.
And you will see his face flushed with joy,
With every rush of the brush.
With no designated design in mind.
He loves to paint.

Give an adult a blank canvas and paints.
And the first thing he'll ask you is;
"What do you want me to paint?"
David Murphy May 2016
Write it in blue.
Endeavour, endure, entrust.
No pockets left unturned.
Lend to another what you have stolen from me.
Tell the ferryman, you wrote your will in blue.
David Murphy Aug 2017
Why would you ever buy a second hand gate?
Fair enough if it was in decent condition..
But this one's bent, paint peeling to bare metal now rusted.
But you did..
Smothered in the smoothest Hammerite and hung proudly at your home.
It's still rusted underneath but at least someone is taking care of it.

— The End —