My debut poetry collection is three years old today.
Happy Birthday Heading North!
Working on a young sibling for you.
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On This Day My Book Was Born
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Tag Archives: Poetry
Writer In A Coffee Shop
from my poetry blog
Writer In A Coffee Shop Nobody sees as we do — a conspiratorial attempt at flattery, rising up from the books on the slanted shelves. Vinyl albums are fixed to the ceiling, you can get a stiff neck searching out the soundtrack to your life. Upstairs the sound of a tattooist, reminds him of the dentist, sets his teeth on edge, running ravines of mottled brown. He hears it still, that night as she lies with her face to the wall, a tree brooding in the back garden; across the rooftops thoughts dissipate into silence, yet still, that sound, transmuted slowly into goose flesh ©AndrewJamesMurray
Savage Sky
from my poetry blog.
Savage Sky In this savage sky, in this ragged hour, a low, winter sun glazes soft all flesh of inordinate pallor, embarrassed by impotence. Unravelling powder blue ribbons, colouring brittle braids blown among briered mountains of white. Black cattle bellowing in coarse vernacular a dumb language of instinct, lust. And crying like a child, each insipid sow. You can smell the sea, but not see it, cupped in hands of granite, cold, loved. Suffering the separation of centuries, more. ©AndrewJamesMurray
Changeling
From my poetry blog
Changeling time creates; time destroys witness the growth of men from boys a belligerent sun warps continents of clouds a plane, a boat and a hike will get him there shaking his hair along liminal coastlines harvesting mannerisms, lives, throwaway lines in a fisherman's hut a changeling writes ©AndrewJamesMurray
Word Jam #11
from my poetry blog
She's writing down her thoughts, and, more disconcertingly, mine And she's stripping me naked along every line ©AndrewJamesMurray
Word Jam #10
From my poetry blog.
The young and the well hung quartered and drawn striding through chapters toothless raptors wireless adaptors aborted newborn The herd and the blackbird song feathered dawn erasing through channels annulled annals amphibious mammals bucketed spawn
Spider Webs
From my poetry blog
Spider Webs A paucity of lines to begin with, held by examples of faith unattached to a creed, forming into white, frosted webs, rising to be a tangle of sky, prone to bead on dew-dusted mornings, each tremulous strand born of hunger and longing. ©AndrewJamesMurray
