Were Love So Easy Everyone Could Love So
Were love so easy everyone could love so
But if love were easy it would be worth much less
So the hard thing to do is to love, and love show
So hard, that rarely our earthly soul is loved bless.
Just part of a soul, an inert soul that doth not move
To the symphony of color, the spirit of loving beauty
A virtue it is to move to love's most beautiful groove
And play the crimson flute, in the soul of symphony
Where this virtuous flute be, but in true love's hand
Far from me am encircled in an orb of sullen woe
Lost in a mundane web, aloof from love's mystic land
An alien world, my vice will never let me know
The rare thing we call love, a feeling so vast but brief
Love, the thing to heal our never ending grief….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Dead Poet's Harmony
I saunter this earth, in soul's dead
Digesting their beauty and what they said
Poets weaved my fate and mine destiny
With their song and beautiful harmony
I follow them as they follow me
Inside of me, inside of thee
Dead poets live in immortality..
And sing through we for an eternity..
It is in Keats internal rhyme, my poem's enzyme
Yeats Irish mist where my sentiment exist
Shakepeare's sonnets write my life's true love
Poe's raven stalks in the shadows of my woes
And behind Emerson's mind, my mind transcends
And from all Poets pain, my soul descends…
Every song must be sung, and every poem must be shone
As we saunter earth, and resurrect birth
To the dead poet's souls of our destiny
As we all write in their harmony
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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An Answered Prayer
I prayed a lover's prayer and prayers sent me
A beautiful lady of art and life in perfect harmony.
Her eyes of Burmese jade, her lips of amorous African ruby
Her skin of Chinese silk, her heart a refined piece of jewelry
As rare as rare, and as sweet as sweet
This lady is beauty whole and beauty complete.
Her slim delicate tenderness lies between beauty and love
And in mine heart her beauty is be love
By mine senses, my soul, my spirit, my will
Made light by her soul, as light and colorful of a peacock's quill
I do but for a moment touch her loin
And our eyes, my prayers, do finally adjoin
Love has sent me a scion of pleasure
In one moment of love's eternity
Did I possess a Goddess and I did see love's tremendous treasure
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Satiate
In serenade jubilant thy soul be
On the winds of love above love's sea
With lily white skin and azure sweet eyes
Thy look like beauty as thy look on beauty
Transcendent like Christ's heavens skies
Thought, mirth, thy breast bloom gaily
In joyful chorus thy feet whisper steps
Echoing in heaven's delightful alley
High above swooning in cosmic depths
Ecstasy, elixir, thy breathe the mountainous air
Free in the organs of earthly snow
Thy wear the air on thy skin bare
Soft as snow like a tender angels glow
Thy freeze my love in its perfect essence
Like a sculpture chisels perfections posture
An angel fire is born the quintessence
Of art, heaven, love, and beauty, thy temperature
Temperate incarnate with its beauty mine eyes
Satiate…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I cannot hear anything but mine own heart beat
I cannot hear anything but mine own heart beat
Thou art still the most beautiful lady I've ever seen
So elegant and refined, graceful and petite
Thou art effeminate in love with beauty serene
Thou define beauty with such eloquence and such charm
No time, no age, no season nor death did trace
Worn lines, wrinkles, sorrow and decay on thee
For by thy bosom love pulsates to thy immortal face
The poetry of flesh; the beauty thy flesh be
An ideal imagination that steams thy beauty fast
And whispers nature's secret's like the silver moon
And reveals beauty like the sun's light cast
And reflects love like profound emotions swoon
I can only hear my heart beat, as I fall and faint
For mine heart, thy beauty took and with thy face did paint…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Kiss Mine Heart
With crimson blood I doth drink sorrow's love and weep till night drunk in love's enamor, while all hearts clamor with tongues lurid song and play with the night of vice all wrong and in orbits of each other's senses, lose their own sense, to sensualities path deep and immense… Like a saint of love I pray for love's sake and martyr myself in her name and where love dwells thou wilt find fame, engraved on the walls of a heart, where lover's kiss with crimson stained lips wert their sin lives and whisper din and burn their senses in mine heart within… O sweet is love in my heart's melody, wert I see beauty and love in souls underneath thy body. I see with mine heart and not my eye, with love's heart that will never die! Kiss mine heart!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Her Beautiful Eye
In thine eye, my island, my love's recluse
Where my heart stops to enjoy thy light
And eat thy beauties cloying fruits
And rest in the iris of tender night
Only seen by thy gratifying sight
In mourning I bath with thine tears
Drenched in sorrow I take flight
And search for thy internal peers
An orchid of orange, in my sight appears
Small sinuous lines do I trace
In the soil of thine iridescent honey
Illustrious in light's blessing grace.
Thy soil changes like the mood of thine face
From a honey brown to murky gray
When clouds form and it's not to sunny
For your eyes to beam in bright day.
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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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To Stone I Turn
If not a slave of this world, I am a slave of God
Wearied in chains, my soul oppressed
I walk with leaden feet
To a feat I trod
My solace warms, in a soul dressed
by the virgin's blood and
Magdalene's tears.
With their succor
I quench my fears
Its love impressed,
My soul never leers
Still the chains don't chain my will,
a will sick with desire.
Outwitting my simple soul
My will tempts the mire
To swamp not just the earth,
but slime God's soul as well
So in misery my soul can dwell
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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Warriors
The soul speaks from a warrior's spirit
Chants of war, execution of arts
In gruesome battle, one fears it
Death is when war starts
Agony cries god is pain
Brutality lords the field
Innocence killed hearts slain
Other hearts to ferocity yield
Strange calm, war mediation
Prayers to the brave
Tears in formation
Bodies march to the grave
Acts remembered, bodies burn
Ancient drum rolls
Human valor they earn
The valor of dead souls!
Archangels of war's path
Passion engulfs nature's law
The heart of war's wrath
The most dangerous organ man saw
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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Belladonna
The ballet's of dancing feet
Are not as delicate, not as sweet
Nimble or soft
As they soul dancing in front of me
My mind aloft
Thine soul deftly
Step in me as thy walk in me
Like my souls the sun
And thy soles burn
No flowers bloom,
No angel's wings spread
No butterflies flower
No baby is conceived
As thou conceive to me
Thine true beauty blooms
Thy wings spread
Thy butterflies flower
As my souls breadth
Grows free with thee
Thy book opens
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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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