Veiled By The Shadow Of Dark Ebony

The night dreams of stars, as I dream of thee
Illusion unweaves it light and thou come to me
To my tender thought, to mine heart fancy
At night my love thou art all I see
Burning my meditative mood so ravishingly
Soothing me into a deep reverie
As night falls into me
I lose consciousness, only to consciously
Awake to thine voice so sweetly calling me
Imagining beauty as I sleep so peacefully
Beauty believing in me so honestly
Elevating the current of my soul so easily
Love resting inside my motionless body
Moved only by the tender hand of thee
My dream girl veiled by the shadow of ebony
Slight delicate, but dangerously curvy
The ideal of my dreams, most dreamy fantasy
Whose figure outlines the definition of purity
A form of love to fit in me so fittingly
So simple thy stamp thy sentiment so plainly

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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An Accident

A sudden gray, transfigures some celestial woman
A moment, an effect, a beauty pure
Fine skin, golden curls and spiritually Roman
Mine beliefs in her she did subtly lure

A longing one feels for an accident again
Its beauty one cannot measure, undefinable glory
Man knows not, what where or when?
She will appear to finish this miracle story

A spiritual power, an incredible creation
Of a mind that progresses towards heaven's genius
An exquisite passion melts in elation
To the love of some strange Venus

To the sweet apparition, my love and genius

This earth's love is to small
In the other world's blue I flee

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Beautiful Mermaid

Walking the beaches of southern earth
A beauty in my eyes gave new beauty birth
A mermaid washed upon the shores of sand
With a purple shell of love in hand
I picked it up and placed it to my ear
I heard the ocean talk and in my soul fear
I dropped the shell and looked down
The mermaid was dead, she most of drown
Her fins wert made of coral reef
And her heart was made for my belief
In her hair emeralds lights shone
On her finger lay one rock alone
Its color was like an ocean sapphire
More brilliant then an land fire
Her finger tips colored a garnet jade
Whitened there as she laid
I couldn't help to become dour
At such beauty dead, dead galore
SO I pick up the purple shell
And its conch I began to plea

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Christianus

How did thy human hand paint me better than God's love did give?
In brush strokes obscure and despondent colors mine soul does live
Thou art a God with human hand which create my heart's thorns crown
And in thy sorrows for my life sorrow we pensively brood we search down
Deep in the kingdom of God which no man rule but our soul, our will's king
We hear not just our own sorrow cry, but the angels of sorrow melancholy sing
Let the blood flow down thy face and the aureole of love's light seep in
Look at thy face and let thy soul purge, life's vain hope thy life's mortal sin.
Rome's power, Jewish law, I wear it scarlet in my sorrowful raiment; Rome's mocking cloak
The blood of the God's lamb and the blood of the earth's meek sweetly soak
My heart, my manhood, the imperfect man and all his sin did not know
That the love I give, the love I live, is the love I forever show
In this painting of God's man hands and despondent souls who despair in glow…
Touch my face and let tears flow into my heart, forever I live and forever I love, thine sorrow grow.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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A Poetic Image of Love

A noble poet she writes her soul in prose
With mystical light weaving beauties light
Around her words a fiery light grows
On my heart it grasps its beauty tight

Her comely shape, a ladies coat of arms
Forever bears the tender heart of love
Drunk with her beauteous poisonous charms
Her soul covers mine like a perfectly fitted glove.

Her delicate ears for beauty to clearly hear
The melodious fire and fervor of my passion
For in my ears she is tender and dear
And by my ears her voice is love's fashion.

Dressed in gray, in a soft cashmere
Her majestic grandeur hides beneath her soft flesh
A soul of power, she draws one wet tear
Washing my eye, like the rain moistens a flower's petal fresh.

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Flowers I See

The belladonna in the valley, so magical in purple, so deadly within me, the nightshade thou possess, and in thee my life fade. The amaryllis in mine soul, thy scarlet leaf haunts me, for in thy scarlet stained grief, mine love and life I see. The blossom canna even thee! with lips stained with vice, from the vice of pleasure you chose, to create the beauty of thine treasure for our souls to greed. The begonia of beauty delicious thy beauty leave, and like all beauty thou deceive, the love pregnant in me. The oriental poppy, thy aroma helps me to sleep and dream of colors as vivid as thee and as unreal as thy petals be, unreal my dreams of thee. O fairy blossoms, in pink and white wing, inside thy petals the butterfly dwells and the spring ferries sing. Ah! there is the rose, with all its beauty in she which grows, wins the hearts of all whom know, that in the rose our love to doth grow. Still all these flowers look pale next to she, the panther in brown, with eyes of ebony, whom stares at me and sees flowers in my gleaming eye and preys on me before I die.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Jealous Clouds

The dew of love settles on the blades of grass
In the marshes, the green frogs sleep
While the crickets play their wings like violins
For the hearts of geese to move their feet
And the water streams in content
While the clouds look down on earth
In jealousy clouds want to play
With and on earth's beauty..
They desire the touch of love by the sharp blades of grass
They want to feel the warmth of the frogs sleepy feet on their laps
And listen to the music of the cricket's wings
while they chase the running geese
Jealous clouds want to drink and splash in the azure streams of content
And on earth live in mirth, with the rest of nature's creatures!
O the Jealous Clouds—They can't stuck in heaven they are!
In jealousy they turn gray with sadness and weep
And hide the sun when mad at earth and its light they keep
The jealous clouds roar in thunder to scare our hearts
And tempt us with their purity, dressed in white, soft raiment
The jealous clouds piqued turn vermillion and blush

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Brephos

Although it is easy for one to think, it is not always easy for one to write
Not all thoughts can be expressed into words, nor should they. Rousseau said in his solitary walks or was it his confessions? That his most beautiful thoughts died in him as quick as he thought them and how he at the time wished he had a pen in hand to write them all down. Those thoughts are dead, but perhaps those same thoughts are born in others written down somewhere in all of infinite time. Some thoughts like some lives are not meant to be born. The seed of this thought, watered by my serene tears, germinates in my soul as I write this letter. Still I can't find the words to express its beauty, its paradox, its mystery. The seed germinates but no plant is born, no flower blooms. For every child that isn't born, for every thought trapped in the moral order nature's thought; the ineffable, the unborn, the unknown, I hope one day you find expression and tell the world what you are and what beauty really is—To eloquence that never speaks, to thought that never thinks, to life that never lives, in my heart you speak, think and live.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Allurement

The amorous amours of her golden lips
Seals loves secret with a beautiful kiss
Into the lake, her soul then dips
With loves secret that our own hearts miss

A morose muse, following capricious whims
Wanders to the lake azure, searching for bliss
And in its beautiful waves his heart swims
So with his body the muse jumps in

Bliss! Bliss! Swimming in her mist
The morose muse searches beneath the lakes pretty surface
And sees an emanating jewel, a violet amethyst
With gold brewing in the center, like a ardent furnace

Echoes of love, his ears tenderly hear
Emanating from the jewel at the bottom of the lake
With a torrential gush, and no fear
The muse swims to the jewel, for its beauty to take

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Am I Evil?

Years of living peril and anguish cease
When evil was killed, by my senseless wrath
As his eyes closed and his heart decease
I smirked I smiled and innocently laughed
This man was evil and deserved to die
He made my sins look common and mundane
Deceiving all with his clandestine lie
Vulgarizing life that was holy he hath profane
The moisture of mankind as they woefully cry.
Over his sins, over the souls he doth steal
From loved ones whom love naught now
All the life of love, and its ardent zeal
This man took by the hand of death and how?
He killed, pillaged and with life he stripped
With rage in his eyes as red as fire
He strangled and with knife in hand ripped
The flesh of love, the flesh of desire
With no conscience to judge or heart to feel
This man was evil for evil in him doth be
The dead man, for death in him was real

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poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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