Most pictures and words from Anthony C Murphy

Monday, 21 November 2011


I shall hear from her nothing more
Not that I am deaf to pleasure
Nor that she whispers at my ear
I fear she is now hardened, stone

I should expect then nothing less
Having only pennies for bones
Her currency within the million
Still enough for my diffidence

So diamond tough she cuts me out
With a silence pure, unsweetened
I listen again to fellow
Men, undermined yet in station

So I shall write her eloquent letters
Fuelled by a wine fired mind in thrall
Desire strong enough to destroy any doubt
Together times shared yet shared alone

So she shall suck the blood from my fingers
And taste the salt of my atheist soul
I give her my all in a timeless call
To lick her lips and move months with her tongue

So I shall speak lost thoughts to the spaces
Use my guesses get no comfort again
For my brain and bone are all that I own
And hers are hers and her matter alone

The sea is no less inviting today
Seen here from this blue and terrible height
It is mobile with white flicks or silver
In flight; flecks of never, undetermined

To wish for the depths seems ridiculous
But dizziness affects more than the feet
A fool’s dancing head on a beach full of
Clouds out of reach is forever ending


Fanzine, supporting Yuck in Glasgow



Tuesday, 1 November 2011


Another year relaxes in its embers
We gather for our farewell

Through the months cuckoos have called
You have not heard, I wouldn’t know
Leaves fell off branches, regardless

In the evening sun on a Bandon hill
Still at this familiar hole
I try to think of your face
Taste the earth in the air

Your intake of breath is what I remember
That preoccupied, sucking - yeah!
Peculiar to this parish as you were
We can’t confuse you with mother
You are absent-bodied no more

We came here together apart thirty years
We carried each other once a piece
Me a slapped kid, you in the urn
We shared similar meals in between
Those blood red beef stews we loved
Stock full of juice and mushrooms

This is all we had though, moments at dinner
Dirt chewed today is spat tomorrow
My thoughts slip away leaving you
Under mouldering heaps
I head towards laundry and tea
As the moon balls out above the church
We have both gone home
To a colder ground 


The bird visited in my thirty-eighth year
I heard from this window tunes of freedom
Abandoned to the world as she was
In the dawn and the dusk she would always appear
On the same branch perched and unfussed
Singing lustily, thrusting out song to my ear
For two years she came to a sick cell’s outlook
And I’m sure others shared in the pleasure I took
For she didn’t care who heard her, not neighbour
Nor jailer, she was fearless
And then one full starred night she appeared silent
Her throat dry or her talent spent or her needs unrequited
I sat in my room holding the moon
Between finger and thumb for only a moment