Word Jam #4

Coronets For Ghosts

and that is why we laugh
she said, this sorority of sorts

and I wilted beneath that scornful gaze
colouring my stained glass face
and a bell rang out for the passing parade
and flowers flung before its path 
were trampled in the dirt




©AndrewJamesMurray

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Word Jam #3

3.00am thoughts run like water

Coronets For Ghosts

radio tales
white heat desert Americana

the water
recalls every rock
it has washed over

even now with the rivers run dry
somewhere it dreams

in dark chambered veins
away from the sun
and the music

keeping me awake at 3.00am




©AndrewJamesMurray

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New Year

Happy New Year X

Coronets For Ghosts

New Year

Half the world is hurting,
turning its face to shadow.
Moldering moments,
kindle to flame,
are undefined images,
lost to a cold,
northwesterly wind,
licking at the edges
where the numbness fades.

Firs stand conspicuous 
among their naked cousins,
all tendenous needles
and cadaverous cones.

The sky is leaden.
The streets are all 
unchartered lanes.

An unknown bird calls out
this new day; this new year.

Everything is redeemable.




©AndrewJamesMurray

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Word Jam #1

Juggling a few lines before bed.

Coronets For Ghosts

Smoked and stoked before midday
the rain runs down the inside of the day
foolin' us into goin' out for shelter

run through the jungle;
cut through the jungle
make a path right back home
for all our hollerin' 
and kickin' and screamin'
won't quieten them all down none






©AndrewJamesMurray

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At This Time

From my poetry blog. Soon be Christmas.

Coronets For Ghosts

At This Time


A virginal shroud settles upon our abodes.
Fairy lights flicker in the long night.
Inside, all manner of songs and odes
are offered to acclaim our rite.
Those of us not overtly religious
indulge themselves out of tradition.
Those of us not openly pious
offer tacit prayers without petition.
But all desire to feel the joy
that shines forth from every child's eyes.
An augury, in innocence's employ,
that lifts the soul amongst the winter skies.
Though we partake in the gathered feast,
and survive the night imbibing wine,
we recognise, when all has ceased,
that part of man inherently divine.




©Andrew James Murray

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Heading North Turns Two; Put Up The Cards And Bunting

Happy Birthday HN!

Coronets For Ghosts

My debut poetry collection, Heading North, was published by Nordland Publishing two years ago today. I’m still rather proud of it.

image

If anybody wants to buy a copy, with Christmas around the corner, there is a link below. Or, if any of you should find yourself near the Middleton public library in Manchester, UK, or the Norway National Library, you could have a read for free.

I’m all for the opportunists among you 😉

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Heading-North-2-Songs/dp/8283310097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1512565332&sr=8-1&keywords=Heading+North

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