In Brigantia Out Now

City Jackdaw

I’m very pleased to announce that my second poetry collection, In Brigantia, is out now.

‘Andrew James Murray’s second collection invites you to Brigantia, territory of Celtic tribe the Brigantes.

It is a Brigantia of both geography and imagination, where Queen Cartimandua rubs shoulders with screen goddess Marilyn Monroe, and Tom Cruise is proselytising upon the streets of Manchester.’

For readers in the UK it is available here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Brigantia-Andrew-James-Murray/dp/1731271360/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=In+brigantia&qid=1558264687&s=gateway&sr=8-1

For readers in the US you can get it here:

https://www.amazon.com/Brigantia-Andrew-James-Murray/dp/1731271360/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=In+Brigantia&qid=1558264804&s=gateway&sr=8-1

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In Brigantia Out Now

 

I’m very pleased to announce that my second poetry collection, In Brigantia, is out now.

‘Andrew James Murray’s second collection invites you to Brigantia, territory of Celtic tribe the Brigantes.

It is a Brigantia of both geography and imagination, where Queen Cartimandua rubs shoulders with screen goddess Marilyn Monroe, and Tom Cruise is proselytising upon the streets of Manchester.’

For readers in the UK it is available here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Brigantia-Andrew-James-Murray/dp/1731271360/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=In+brigantia&qid=1558264687&s=gateway&sr=8-1

For readers in the US you can get it here:

https://www.amazon.com/Brigantia-Andrew-James-Murray/dp/1731271360/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=In+Brigantia&qid=1558264804&s=gateway&sr=8-1

 

 

Slattocks Canal

from my poetry blog

Coronets For Ghosts

Slattocks Canal

The sedentary

figure of a fisherman

by the redundant waterway.

Still nothing has he caught.

Could it be he’s been out-thought

by such a tiny brained foe?

— He doesn’t think so.

Beneath the carpet

of conquering weeds,

between the barbs

of needle-reeds,

their number is smaller;

the water shallower,

and strategically placed

shopping trolleys,

half-submerged,

contribute to the clogging

of this coagulated artery.

A train thunders past,

the fisherman shifts,

night drifts in, reluctant.

©AndrewJamesMurray

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Romeo Of Lever Street

from my poetry blog.

Coronets For Ghosts

Romeo Of Lever StreetHe's a trier, you must give him that,trooping the street in his inglorious charade,a hinterland for elegiac fails.Here, beneath a canopy of twine and rouge red moons,the day falls by degrees to that sultry shadewhere he can intimate possibilities that would blush in broad daylight.It is age that makes me a cynical observer,— that or diminishing returns.There is a law for it, I think, an equation of sorts,that pushes me to the margins while the parade continues eternal,a mathematics of growth and entropy,peak and decline.



©AndrewJamesMurray

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One Of Those Nights; One Of Those Mornings

It was one of those nights. The view from my midnight gate: a myopic, cataract-obscuring gloom; a cold mist blurring the edges of our focus-the wall’s crowning like a diamond adorned crust, a new gift, a vision.

Within the night, within our perimeters, we need to know both our boundaries and our limitations.

It was one of those mornings. Crawling over the hill, a tepid promise for the evening’s hostilities; bait to entice us out into the town. Tidal lanes for those who consume or are themselves consumed, condemned forever to travel these seasonal tides.

On the cusp of the day, we need to embrace each new offering with both instinct and wisdom.

Hearts For Hearts

While at the football stadiums all around the country players and fans are observing a minute’s silence for tomorrow’s Remembrance Sunday,  I just learned that Heart of Midlothian (Hearts) was the first British club whose players signed up en masse for World War One.

Sixteen players enlisted, and on the first day of the Battle of the Somme three died. Of the sixteen in total, seven died in the war and seven were seriously injured.

That’s the kind of statistic that brings home just how devastating that war was.

R.I.P