From my poetry blog
Drum snare rainfall an electric wildfire swept over insane asylums scattering survivors of cold reason to hinterlands of smoulder If my numbers come up tonight she will declare undying love and I shall stake claims in the sand sentimental fool that I am ©AndrewJamesMurray
For all the children who will not know Laura Bruno Lilly, Andrew James Murray ~ 5/22/2017 ~ For all the children who will not know the warmth of sunshine upon their cheeks; the cold of dug snow-forts and candy-land castles. For all the children who will not know the slurpy free love of an old…
From my poetry blog.
Low River Listless and limp; unmoving bowers, no rain to wash her barren banks or call to arms redundant birds, incumbent on unforgiving scree. A hiker slides an angled drop, picks a route along the exposed spine, leaves behind dislodged stones. ©AndrewJamesMurray
From my Poetry blog.
When In Rome I was talking to a Swiss girl, she told of a former classmate who plucked out all of her eyelashes, inflicting a vulnerability on her soul. I bartered with the tale of a girl who shaved off all of her eyebrows. I’d received the news when drinking beer by the Colosseum, that place where gladiators had impaled by trident and sword point. She had scalped herself with a Bic. (She met me at the airport, masked by a silk bandanna. I knew what she concealed. She knew that I knew.) Sometimes she would descend the stairs wrapped in a yellow sari dress: “Look at me, I’m a Punjabi girl!” Dancing around the room like some insubstantial sylph ©AndrewJamesMurray