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

Holding hands with Amber,
As a sweet melody plays.
There are bells in the distance,
As her crafted face stares at empty space.

I could point out a thousand stars,
but none seemed bright enough.
Her interest captured,
by her own hands.

Stuck in mud,
that sound could not wash away.
The beat intense,
But events quite clear.

Apollo has alined the stars
and the planets stand still.
Almost to attention.
To the dying embers.

GRAHAM MURPHY

To love and live
another day.

To fight and die
just yesterday.

Two thoughts too close
to bare in mind.

Two worlds to live
leave none behind.

To **** two kin
through lovers quarrel.

Two crimes can't god
resolve through moral?

To live two lives
all wrapped in one.

To me and I,

Live all,
Die young.

GRAHAM MURPHY

Soft kisses.
Who could have thought to be so aggravating?

Death never watched the Spartans.
I feel, as Brutus did, stuck in Gaul!
And Caesar's words do not convince me to stay.

His words are poisoned with too much thought.
My own carry on the wind...

Maybe...
Maybe a distant ***** shall hear them.
And save herself from a life of,
pleasurable misery.

Alpha-centauri does not concern itself with
these matters.
So neither will I.

GRAHAM MURPHY.

Eating toast in bed.
The tasty crumbs never leaving my lips.
Savoring the buttery taste.
After breakfast I went to stand outside,
in the morning heat.
So strange.

A light rap on the door.
My mother goes to answer it,
Oblivious to the strangers news.
The young ones are in the front room.
Their clucking kept me up.
She came back crying.
My father had fallen.

GRAHAM MURPHY

I war
There's blood
There's sweat
There's tears.
Like love.
But only men
and gears.
But which more tragic
you dare not tell.
For both in men
and women
fell.

GRAHAM MURPHY

My thoughts lost.
Somewhere in time.
An emotion.
Too easy to bare.

I am in a wonderful place.
Where the light burns the skin,
and the shade hides inside.

An unnamed feeling,
clawing at itself in brilliance.

A thought sparks from its talons.

A wonderful place.
A perfect place purified persistently
through peoples' scrutiny of it.

A place where your skin pulls on the bones.
It is all too easy.

And the shade prevails when light is absent.

GRAHAM MURPHY

This, this ogre.
He is quite stupid.
I can learn from him.

The philosopher thinks too much.
He wears his soul on his sleeve.
And sees clouds in July.

My shepherd knows nothing.
Still tries to preach.

Tries to preach about
otherworldly beings.
While the ogre is content.

I can learn from him.

GRAHAM MURPHY

In my world it rains indoors.
The riverbed is always flooded.

The bottle is opened
and the hot liquid is poured.

And it keeps pouring.
Over its cold heart.
Little blocks of ice.

Lying in darkness,
I speak of unspoken things.
How much I reveal is unknown.
Even to me.

In my head...
In my head they are crying.
Their constant gaze.
I'm still fighting...
I'm still dying...

My childhood scars run deep.

And they burn...

In the black I feel a warm hand
touch my back.
It guides me safely.
I can not survive the night,
without this guiding hand.

I am not a beekeeper.
I cannot control their raging storm.

Yes...

I too hear the thrum...
They are forcing their way out.

The box is too full already.

The dark shapes are moving in the blackness.
The children's hands are bound
and they are beaten.
They want what was taken from them.

I can't help but think...
the guiding hand is not enough...
Release the children from their box!

I will stand on the flooded riverbed
and pay with one gold coin for passage.

GRAHAM MURPHY

Dream the dreams of dreamers.
But.
Do not leave them that way.

You can not keep them happy.
They wish to tell the deaf,
how to listen.

The Ghost of Sparta,
does not hide in the shadows.
As the founders do.

He lives in the flames disjointedly.
The rest dream.

GRAHAM MURPHY

Three peaks standing too close together.
Identically different.
Looking past me to a horizon more distant.
I lean against a grave and consider the challenge.

I would fire a warning shot,
but for fear of an avalanche.
Three giants crouching around my mortal.
In their shadow these legs won't carry me,
and these hands will not lead the way.

Star shine shall never find me.
I will live beneath the mountains in their cloak.
I am like a king.
My crown holds me back from true power.

GRAHAM MURPHY

It was a summer day in Riverstead.
I was walking by the riverbed.
It was there I found my brother dead.

It was a mournful day for us all.
Especially for the waterfall,
Who's tears dried up that afternoon.

Then I asked how will I die?
Onto reflection of the sky,
and I replied in a way that reminded me of you.

Then my tears fell on the river
and waterfall began to glitter.
Just like a dance with the rain.

On that day the falls did flow,
Mourning on until I go.

It was that summer day.

GRAHAM MURPHY

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

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.

Its beauty,
is its stillness.
With the long grass hiding it,
the serpent is hidden.
Waiting.

The drum of its heart is,
ever present.
Those venomous eyes.
Spearing the skin of me.
I bleed to a symphony of suffering.


How inquisitive!
Have they no secrets?
Have the not murdered, themselves?
They cannot grasp the tarnished gold.
They are too good neighbors.

Ink spills the parchment,
as red as roses in the midst of war.
My life is unwritten as two.
Then they offer me water,
with the ripeness of poison.

GRAHAM MURPHY

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

There I sit in a lonely room.
Scribbling a silky thread.
I look up at the mountain so tall.
The task fills me with dread.

I let the page fall at my heel,
The needle to and fro.
I have reached the great wall.
My breath begins to slow,

What makes you pull the rose?
That rose?
But only one...
Then appears your grin again.
She makes you play Chaconne.

The bow plays the sinews
Of mine Heart.
To stitch the seams
Of this fine Art.

Beads of sweat drip from my brow.
Struggle through the mountain pass.
Duet of cloths in unity
Catch quick, quick to hear my brass.

GRAHAM MURPHY

A blackened rose
sits by the window.
A symbol.

Their love did know
no bounds to laws,
or ethics meaning.

One time of love.
One epic screening.

GRAHAM MURPHY

His sickly look
filled his own self image.

Thirsty eyes
searing from dark rings.

They had a look.
Of knowing.

Clenching his jaw,
from the cramping abdomen

and pushing back his eyes,
to hide them from the world.

This was not an accident.
He would not tell them that.

GRAHAM MURPHY

There is trouble in Paradise.
While the Madlands seem unscathed.

Those scholars were smart.
They should have known better.

Now we are left to smash it.
And I couldn't wait.

An age old question to be answered.
I want to find a new place.

I shall become stardust
and rid myself.

This plague.

GRAHAM MURPHY

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.

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

Walking down the broken path,
I could see the summer gardens blooming.

The gates were locked and I could not enter,
those bright and playful prairies.

My prayers are never answered.
I am left to bear this like Atlas.
A world on my shoulders.

The children of god have an arrogance.
They will lose their keys,
And join me

Where a thousand souls burn.
Beneath the skin.
Screaming.

A place ruled by Julius and Caesar.

GRAHAM MURPHY

Words have not the dimensions,
To describe my rose.

Tall in the sunlight,
With a ****** pose.

In the whitest of winters,
A snowflake will freeze.

To witness the moment,
Of your warmth on the breeze.

A sound from your petals,
Stills the scribes hands,
And ignites the Flames Of Passion.

GRAHAM MURPHY

I stood in the riverbed.

Watching the sun rise.

The sound of the birds so simple.

The flicker of feathers and sunlight.

I wept for what seemed the first time.

I held the earth in my hands.

But, now did not feel the need to join it.

Instead I let it drip between my fingers.

And deny the tool of Dusk.

My tears told the tale,

of what lies ahead.

Watching as the sun goes down.

And the day begins.

GRAHAM MURPHY

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.

T'was him.
T'is them.
and maybe me...

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

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.

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

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

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