Sheila E. MURPHY
from Omnia
13.
Venetian blinds in place just as a flashlight trickles flat across
Inherit a routine to ply the lathe of answerable
test case pounded into soft wood like some
shrill nail
Heard rain appear under the stall of night
To have been multiplied into point structures
Grown collectively into the fact of flowing wells
Minus caprice and forthing rides across
The swelling stream allowing for the possibility
Of crossing mainly in the ribboned gleam
Surpassing night
Taken to the widest known extreme, some land
As province glows sharp angular remarks,
So symmetry follows relaxation of the formal
Witness places, side by side, erasing
What would seem inevitable points of gravity
Akin to night that fords the snaps hot river.
14.
Inventable breeze lane, waterways to measure thought
Lack some central moment to allow or foster
chapter markings, remark upon them, also,
listen back as an invention
Sophistication represented several layers aloof
Across a missing baseline promised to the underlying psyche
All at once aligned so thorny background surfaces
The least frantic light inside us,
Taming how we crest against
Temptation and ingredients of experience
Unfelt and holding the ideal of instruments
From which ransom notices are chiseled into
Stone
Now harmonics shiver into our midst
For us to grasp them prior to the line drive
Of a sweet straight low life line
Positioned straight across the smooth page
Of agility we live into
And where a resurrection uplifts
Each example parlayed in a rage across
15.
In a blue work shirt, fluidly gardening to taste
Emancipate the structure to be
other than inflexible, to add
a few links to the de facto chain
She observed clothing to have seemed
De rigeur throughout the template of relationship,
And incidentally the mountain offered only scenery,
We seemed to be inside the confines of a pattern
Not to be enjoyed, unless we could unravel
What was supposed to have been thought through
Carefully among several
Holding in my hands the least practiced
Form of evidence, every story seems to take the part
Of conscience to have ratified, the mixup slowly
Creeps alongside still life titled "woman being gender
Number two," quizzing her very luck for day
As private lessons cease
To have materialized
16.
Pigmentary proffering as an incentive startlingly to love, to have been lured
Seek secondly to be approached without a plan
to meet the one approaching, listen to
the writhing of a ceiling fan fail to relax
As happens, the fill direct was hypothesized
To be ripe for seeds to flex open and only
Accidentally subside into small splinter-sized
Locations of this world, parted like hair
Though moving slowly as the poverty
In an imagination gives shape
To institutions such as Iceland with
Its comprehensive form of brevity
Intelligence remands opacity in a firm
Exchange for hues with pretty
And descriptive names unhesitatingly forward
Merchants to avow commitment anciently
In part alive with glitter some of the full
Miracles elapse into a coverlet imbued with
Green as can be made again within
The shadow
17.
Tall glasses for consideration, plenty to have fueled an edge of whitening
Tread upon the flat, sane pasture
of aquarial remains, considering
the work to have been done and what remains for later
Meditation now attributed to rain, a factor,
Age, a factor of some twelving,
Are there really holy persons praying, who devote their lives,
Thereby make simple ours, so the alikeness
Plots a course, as if to solve
One rumor after others are decided
Cheers to link arms briefly and walk down across
The place where river
Or the natural place to have located
Traces of fragility as though the theory of repair
Prevails again, and pieces reconstructed
Show no evidcence of newfound seams
18.
Conversation through the drifts of rain to seed some things we do not even know
Borrow and give back, what comes of leavening's eventually
practiced in the will points with a shred of vigor,
with a few crumbs broken from the whole, heartedly given
Whispers amplified form spring, the dimple thirds of bird long
House prints how the many tiny lakes are formed,
If with a sprig of leisure I could listen, I would listen far
To sequence as a given thing, and linger across
The places from which hearing is endowed
With spaces of our meaning, tiptoing across
The venture wide with space feel pried from
What a need for solace, what a need for grace.
The earnest feeling of surpassing what was useful once
Is also the contagion placed where it belongs,
People with time want to be given,
People with space want to be filling
Rooms with friendship with an arrow that moves one way,
So the swelling starts and does not stop,
No flow through mystifies, until the slim form of rapport
Is given half away before repeating how the work is working.
19.
Picture frame, the heat goes on, the middle picture just a wink askew, a drafty corner
Offer to withhold, then watch the silhouette
be dazzled by the thought of shifting the direction
fluently and with a sterling pace to work
Friendship owns a fleet of these ribboned formalities,
Their violation comes in whims that multiply
Until our shoulders need a little wool or flannel loaned across
To miss predicted or uncertain winds arriving
Just when we do not embrace the speck of an idea
Promising to endow more musical inflections
Than directions often give, whatever flower has to answer
Is immediate perfume the way our mothers taught us
To have thrived with serious attention
History retrieves a way of looking at ourselves,
And that freezing in another moment far preferred
Is what stalls movement in a way, while bolstering
The individual portrayed as strong, who would be weak,
Doused in the adult day care of ways to fill
The time apart from obligations rapidly diminishing.
20.
Soft enough to be approached, this comfort coded for one thinks a replication
Be like Braille to them, meaning specific when
they touch a stare into your outermost . . .
and candle what it costs, and hope to say
Integers give pure direction from the viewpoint of a place between
That infinitely slivers space additional again between
More two parsing intervals up to the point of an infinity,
Then the bum's rush tramples every fight for lumiere,
All spaced silver cataracts go full of something that resembles twine
And slowly vies for shepherd lace against a breezy hillside,
Up against what we are up against entirely
Wooden, woolen, woven, free of outside furnishing
The illimitable answers clothe the simple part of day
Left over from a confit, just as juris prudence offers to be numb,
Allow a getaway from certain prim injurious uncustomary
Votive lights to bracket in the way a cormorant
Deflates its way into the basket of a simple sky,
These razings glow their way into a heap of weather's own
Infinity, as if resilience needed to be half a gift
To play into, upon, and over
While the peace parches a recipe for stainage on the sleep
Given to quiet all the dark shells left in tow
Against the timed wide stains of river.
Hay(na)ku
perfumed
performance: watch
these nettles glow
**
everything
why is
also why not
**
morning
in four
four time, listen
**
sonata
minus one
now flute alone
**
double
tonguing part
via ear trumpet
**
musical
nest emptied
of quarter tones
Other Work
look at all the spotless generosity
chimes press open the alongside of a keepsake morning
glyphed if cave is near
the inner ear rescinds the spry outreach of lollygag
I press my luck you press your luck etcetera
greetings to what might be about to happen on the upside
of the broadside of an interrupted filmstrip formed by younger eye
content am I contentment is the arching
of a growing population of found heart
released from the projection on familiar walls
an aqua to be melted with pure silver and dispatched
to cloth to lay upon and shift the tone of skin
one moves in smiles this third of the way there
wherever health is brimming over
with conjoined acceptance of the color jaune
how very feathered
how very feathered are the gesture weeds.
they plush low sky.
we north them when we walk dayside.
we join our limbs with breath, rehearse forgetting as art.
a fevered pacem.
longing keeps.
we hold the moment without will.
and soon the stretch of days equals a life to talk about.
lone man still forging methods, following his way.
a soft parade of motions that don't flex.
afternoon connotes a mild time that extends.
maybe with sufficient gold a thread becomes discretionary
as the powder wings of moths
and nascent fluttering.
a likely joy that weighs that much.
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