Posted in Uncategorized on May 21, 2017 by Samuel Murphy

If you live like a corpse,

ready to pass on with the leaves,

you will not be disappointed.

 

give me my heart back and I’ll do it.

still can’t tear myself away from one thought of you.

 

just a greedy fool who wants more than he deserves.

 

Denver, Colorado

Posted in Uncategorized on May 20, 2017 by Samuel Murphy

fourteen years from now

if we are still alive

I hope I am deserving of your

outstanding love.

Your puppy is licking my tears off. She is

a great dog.

It’s hard to feel good when your body

is a cell

which keeps your joy in and locks your love out.

 

In fourteen years if we are still alive,

 

I hope I am free and you are free

and we are free together with real love

 

Posted in Uncategorized on May 1, 2017 by Samuel Murphy

if we married in the fall,

would you wear a white dress?

 

or red, like so many Chinese wives

now turned ancient dusty skeletons?

 

i don’t worry,

i know you know how to dress better than anybody.

 

like when you wore your hair up with the handkerchief

or that special dress like the inside

of a box of candy

and, leaving onwards

Posted in Uncategorized on February 28, 2017 by Samuel Murphy

though grounded by

surrounding towers I,

struck by some lonesome eye

found

(oldish by the sea of night

borrowed in some time)

 

that old voice had not changed

much by the hearing ear

could call still shrilly in the din

no title

Posted in Uncategorized on September 30, 2016 by Samuel Murphy

it is not as if i miss you;

for what a fleeting thing is loneliness,

but is as the moments we missed

because of well whatever

are lost and gone; and it is them

i miss, i miss dearly

Posted in Uncategorized on November 22, 2015 by Samuel Murphy

November’s love came crisp and cold,

a Hudson breeze blowing leaves

across the stones of the old road-

 

clear as the jewels of your visage,

which somehow, just as I froze,

made me warm again, like coffee

with no cream, like the exultant

removal of the coat and hat, the cold

air there and gone but here

 

you chase the chill away and leave

only a dark autumn evening,

sequestered from starlight,

transient and timeless

Posted in Uncategorized on November 11, 2015 by Samuel Murphy

I’ll sleep when I’m dead;
now, without you,
when we are buried and all that separates us
is the phosphorous earth