Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category


Posted: September 13, 2016 in Poetry
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The Sun shined today
The Flowers came forth
The Waters bubbled
The Birds, on a high pitch, crooned
The Trees, with fairy smiles, merry
The Skies, softly glowed
The Airs, high-spirited, mirth
Then I, on a comfort sofa, relaxed.

It soon became sudden
When a cry sighed
Tears rhythm the cry’s angst
A melody of breathless hopelessness
Of a tethered emotions
Trampled by an unthoughtful villain
Whose blood breed sadism
The cry, of a hapless countenance.

She is a little girl
She is of life, a neophyte
She, naive of humans, trusts
She, of benign mental scheme
She is innocent, helpless of mundane thoughts
She, of disdain; not a once willing
She is a little damsel
She is, humbly of celestial intentions

She cried to the Airs
She screamed to the Skies
She stammered the Trees names
Her diadem, when she showed, spoke blue
Then the Sun feared, downed
And all turned moody
Her anguish sicked them
Her cries wearied their soul
Her screams quaver their feet
Her face, of seeming tears baptism.

When her mood seemed fair
When the feelings let her, of utterances
She, of jittery mentions and piteous constructs
Sparsely, spoke straight from the shoulder
But her voice shied to be raised
So, of a callous man she talked

He broke her confidence
He grudged her innocence
He messed her ambience
He shattered her conscience
He dimmed her brilliance
He killed her abstinence
He withered her flowers
He trampled her treasure
He stole from her a shining gem
His emotions never seemed remorseful
He raped her
He, of boastful steps, walked away!

He knew it, but her hale sicked his intention
His blood were of colors mixed, equally
He smiled, his sweats commended his actions
His seeds marred her flourishing meadow
When his nonchalant arrow thrust her meadow orifice
He, all together, was nonchalant
So he brewed of his bile-ful blood
And she, and him, dine of it together, forcefully.

It was a Saturday, the Birds were far away
The Snows were of gleeful romance with the Grasses
So, the Beasts and Zebras, up Sahara they tan
The Airs then, of relief be; hid under the Trees
None, nothing was suspicion, of the knowledge acquired
Until he did, and simpered, then walked away
Neither their absence not Inactions saved her breathes.

Now that her spirit is punctured
The detritus of her emotions shy to glow
Lowly their mentions ring; sung by their debris
But beyond the glimpse of sights
Her confidence and delights have journeyed away.

Murphy Simon


Posted: June 5, 2015 in Poetry
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In no time, but none
I shall be not, but of memories remain
Mine ears shall not of defiance shun
For their connivance with the Archer shall gain
The lights’ enmity on my brow shall borne
When my cold feets of speechless voice calls
And my bloodstreams; of shyness freeze
Mine Foes’ mockery yearns of naught
That Friends’ pity springs to save naught
Mine mindless mind would melt
That mine, my thoughtless thoughts on their crest
Struggle whilst they make but of sterile breathe
In no time, but none
Far away, my steps shall be, far gone
I shall be sought, but nay, far and far away!
Then, mine, the lifeless log, shall whisper “Good Night”.

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®



So many rhythms we forgot to play
So many memories were arrogant
So many moments we hungered their sway
So many lives of gloom, mirth wine and dine

Whilst I, on my conscious heel, quest solace
The River did to me, unfairness; solemn
Morrow shall be, of relief to my soul
Albeit mulling, tensioned breathe crept mine brow

Oblivion! Callous thee! Thou knew my thoughts
Whilst thy comfort hands morn, howbeit bold
Tempestuous thy breathe blew nonchalantly
Our memories, this i speaks, shall yet rise

That these our moments, of  serenades’ melt
Mirth and gloom; thou wasted fairness for blues
Shall it be, tide basking in time’s anchor
This rhythm shall glow, down the riverside!!

(I miss you! I wish we could re-visit our gone times)

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®


Posted: February 13, 2015 in Poetry
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What shall I compare, of you, my damsel?
What? Or of what shall I of you match?
Your beauties-birthed attitudes are celestial
Beyond nature’s wings of treasures array
Your blinks glow than for earthly compare
If the precious I think, then I think naught
For long it has seemed their provenance dwells
In your doors, for your beauty; their solace
Rubies are the bloods that run your artery
Topaz hues your proud skins of winking lids
Your chalcedonic cornea: my sight’s glee
Pearls are your footings of royal treading
Emerald glow is your mind of flourish thoughts
Nature shall of you, thus keep being jealous
For none of its gems match your true glowing
Damsel! Your compare are nothing vainly.

Shall I now, Love, on your cherubic love dwell
Defined, Oh Is eternity on your rosed eyes
Forever, on your soft whispers, rhythms
This fragrance on your purple breathes are staunchness
For on their touches, sweet emotions kiss me
If your heart shall run down the Sahara
Feathers and follicles shall my wears be
For swift my foot will be till I find it
If the polar your heart shall be to dwell
Then my bloods will never of twice think it
For down the south they shall flow your artery
And the hypnotic me, fend on your voice
Your speaking smiles: my love’s assurance
As the sun never cease to shine in yellow
So shall my heart quest still to love you more…

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®

The Nightingale’s Croon

Posted: February 9, 2015 in Poetry
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Love, shall my words, by your fair ears
Be of sincere attention acquire?
For my words have erupted up my lips
Deep from my marrows they have voyaged

I will breath your breathes, my love
For from the walls of my nostrils they form
They are the steams of my unsaid words
That navigates daily about my feelings

Your heart did kissed my lips fairly
Before she did, of my heart inhabit.
When the first kiss formed, I felt death
For sight formed of your beauty rays

Anger not, my dear, when my love seems dearth
For when you think me right of deceits
My lips are but comical
Not me, but your fond that intoxicates me

When you, love; my jesting spirit suspect
Count in naught. When this seems
My heart is too solemn for our conjugal
So it would birth a gladsome brow

I shall love you till the stars disdain the skies
Till the sun contempt, mock the roses
I shall love you till then, the airs weary to blow
For as daily the day breaks, you love becomes anew.

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®

The Sons Of Cyclone…

Posted: January 29, 2015 in Poetry
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Do you hear their silent whispers?
Their heartbeats are convulsive
Do you feel their jittery minds?
Upon the roaring podiums they breathe
The lands disdain their footing
The airs have spelled them of pleasure
The waters gladden of their dire thirst
Faded beauties of their hoping fortitude
Weary yellows of their supposed sun
Their stars shy to twinkle
Their moon fears to brighten
Their trusts swallowed by dread
The ember of their roses is faded
The radiance of their diamond; dull
The fertility of their nature now shames
No crimson to merry for droll
The graveyards garrulity yet gives no solace
They are the children of the nonchalant fathers
They were brewed from the careless mothers

Their bloods; the land soil’s ecru
Their dreams; the moon exhausted.

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®

My Sojourn, On this Land..

Posted: January 23, 2015 in Poetry
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Upon nine mountains I tread to reign in this kingdom
Among several seeds dispersed on a journey to rule
Racing on the anthills to wrestle for a value
There I succeeded, thrusting others with my hard thumb
For I am Akanda; the mysterious sojourner
That welcomes himself with some cries of lateness anger
Precipitated by the damsels of the mountain
On whose all lips I dearly found lullaby’s fountain.

Nine rivers I did cross; with me, swimming all alone
There, comfort pleased my feet; for sweet and sour they did taste
So my flesh pleaded; that in time, there shall be some waste
For on its brow were some sweet pleasure found there got done
But oft I chided it with biting satires I found
Thus refrained her from the vain urge that on its lips sound
The ninth mount; the ease of all, but its rivers hindered
It was quick to curb its tides when my valiant angered.

I, Akanda; my royalty shall rule this kingdom
Fate had spoken it; on the far ninth mountain I heard
The words then came hostaged when my intrepid ears heard
Caress not my head; my hairs have malign momentum
When they pierce, their anger suck bloods; for them it pleases
The bloodshed herald their strong stride to assert their wishes
The cries of my lateness anger are my conquest song
I shall rule this kingdom; I shall rule for years so long.


© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®


Posted: January 15, 2015 in Poetry
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In my “IT” days
When I was on the “HE” road
When my Tabula Rasa was a Saint
Still whole and not defiled
Of it innocence with vanity

In my “IT” days
Hands stayed where they are meant
Legs were never hasty to tread
The eyes were of eagles borrowed
Pure and clear; never intruding

In my “IT” days
Dreams were yet blessed
And memories were still unborn
Peace was still a young naïve
Of glowing smiles that gladdens the ambience

Not until I tread my “HE” grasses
Then, my eyes; the unseen sees
The Tabular Rasa; of jargons filled
Courtesy of the orchard’s nurture
Now, my adaptive nature, succumbs.

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®


Posted: January 14, 2015 in Poetry
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Have you seen those days?
When memories were still moments
Reminisce, occurs

Have you heard those songs?
Chanting the unsung merry
On forgotten tongues.

Have you graced those skies?
When the colours were still blue
A gladsome wiggle

Have you seen their foots?
Formed by debris of valiance
And humane swelters

Have you learn their steps?
Of their solemn dogged dance
That spit rusty dusts

Have you felt their blood?
Hunting memories in the wild
With weary wrinkles

Their birth are but rather noble
Not a slavery flesh on their brow.


© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®


Ferries on the road
Cars on the sea
Laughter on the dimples
visual on the lips

The seen are paranoid
The heard yet quivers
Surrogacy of thoughts
On an exile of fame
Illusion veils a seem mystery

Sentiment supplicates mercy
An ambience of ambiguity and feint
Intelligence masturbation and weariness
The fovier’s ailments have worsened
To foresee thus becomes worrisome
For these seem, the state of our Nation.

#politics #aCryforEnlightenment

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®