Saturday, May 31, 2014

Played Onefully -- Sheila E. Murphy

Played Onefully

Sheila E. Murphy


authors-text blog 02

west hartford ct

© 2014 Sheila E. Murphy 


Legislate the whole mint ball of wax, impress

Upon our story line the gift of cache

I smell grass stain where you worked

All morning cyclical once dry

Now dew impresses a bandwagon

Heaped with thunder residue I’m falling

Into headfirst hardship rapidly the

Salt facts lease novitium economizing

White with sorghum not far by the wayside

Withholding thus regarded a dismissal flight

Erases sightlines even furniture about to be

Hand morphed as lane

Change on a mockingbird’s effete new

Ceiling space where blister white sells for

A big increase the sales twirl wrinkly in

Gray linen seeming white sun batting down

The thought of moisture

Fit for registers with cash in them still


Wait for me, a dried chimera safely through the

League in force a form of pain that’s duly

Cyclical and vague impressionable so flown

It departs from paying attention, ripens the

Objective inference in case you are not listening

Smudge infiltrates more than surfaces

For now at least the copious soprano section

Migrates left of sworn integrity the main thing

The altimeter shown lengthwise in a diagram at cost

Coffee happens in carafes if you are married

What kind of ink are we inviting to the text

Linemen squeal aggravation (points of fate

Skeletal embryo afar fielding the question

Of imperatives alongside brisk tempt catch

Phrase loud in court, explain how tact

Resists infraction, watch and learn why not

Wild yam, a soak, a twill, a song the sweet

Pearl of surroundings confiscates indulgence

Configurato stales beyond the slot

Aligned, a gismo might entrap the likes

Of me, line 1 imperatives break out in

Song, a breakout group, a pail of

Lateral discomfort in the meantime, why

Have you become a decoration, breath

Streams alongside hastening a sullen

Part of giving up the smoke, refractive surgery

Aligns itself with many morning scaffolds

Placed in park

Theoretical block walls escape the feeling

Of indulgence, tell me what the league

Of infants has not said about a pawn

Of commerce, fate and branching numerals

As far from stasis as the long shot of

Infernal pageantry, commandments

Waive more than requirements of grain

To disengage a forecast bromide

Tactfully with reason on the brain

With fault lines patterned after conifers

I’m tired of going back and forth with

You when we so clearly disagree

It’s time to space the levity the downtime

The integrity, the rush of stoics

Out of land we once claimed

Major and played onefully against

The cervix of a minor key and why not

Malted sequins, fractal page, the way

We feel about ourselves not moving anymore

Spatular lift, what’s wanted, what is

Wanted levels what is high along the scale

Of glyph leaflets to maze across traffic

And consternation, naval base, encarta

Jam fortuitous and bland, cold wage

Earned in sleep alert to change, a

Partial daffodil encapsulates tumult, puts

It up for sale of ways and means, rifling

Through preeminence, cold water wash,


News channel booms in my angelic back seat

Face, would you be willing to demand of

Me my safe brash lightweight

Singularity, straight lines webbed become

A web, a cubic nest, what do they

Want from me, a deck chair, row on

Row encapsulates the only semi-

Circular indifference I know, support

Is lazy session jammed in to the quark

Here come corrugated children in a stew 

A camisole appears, rhymed words

Sand traps, therefore 

Justice painted purple loaves

Into the taste test 

Having forgotten the fingering for lost tones

Disguised as poems

Strung on a lumen line

Attached to scars 

Why wait for chess games to ensue

Gnarled chorelines cabbage their way lawnward

Tones practically drown the silver crutch 

A musical entirely prone to gracing

Advice poems with stately froth

Showing weather numbered

Seven floorcased spots of oneness

Practices, knowledge leaves 

Jobbed delicatessens known by chance

White downsister venison 

Twist of lime dries on the edges of a glass 

Moods rearrange their stubborn wingside

State of quiet of mental crime

Removed once to entire blasphemity

Serene as washed weighs twice

More than what jauntifies

Melisma on your dime

My time all crimsoned with the brash

Transparent sendpoint jitters plant life thus 

A mist arrives against the planetary skin 

Whose malted is this situation standard

Skimming rendezvous placed squarely

In a roundly sentenced strum

Yon wasted nest of simmering blood scars

Rumaki-phone anoints a wing song

On the dreadful treadmill

Leavened with a bounty of some scape on sea

I could sit here with my wit on hold

And thrash away the symptomatic violence 

The arduous curled triumph dotes on dulcet sport 

Remaining wings as taken roll

For the appendages reviving stakes of origin 

Narration cranes its neck with figurative ploys

Decidedly on time

A bray leans quiet close to white

Is this the telltale haste of delicately fracased chart

Distance safes whatever it is essence

Look up at the mirror thoroughly

Un-fidgeting a superimposition

Stretched to mean some feel good furnishings

As every whole becomes a frame

For a philosophy 

Descending order croons fine wisdom

Substituting for another finery

No wine here just mood

Hardbound leaves free lapsing continents

With boxcars full of plywood, piccolos, flake metal,

Stretching exercise presumed into a catalogue

Of icicles and candor telepathically intact

The team king sounds per usual bombastic

Bloated with belief in dipping in to repertoire 

For whetted appetistic louvered scents

With Vegas soap connected though disjointed

Reel to reel indifference

The screen with all but three lines

Strewn around the kettle near

The Nettled waste of space

Distraction of mosaic viabilities

Nothing more than witness can derange

Bass instruments ever the low ball standing

Lane change grapevine clothing summer

As inspection formed on Goth materials

Wrong triads close to slumber

Filled in blank and tabled with the wind lace

As a singular disjunction

Mooned and tiding over

Flounce woven to failsafe dental majesty

As if she stapled truth to fervor

And dismantled faith

Homemade as four bits

Given over to the lamp

The latex and the stun gun

Spitshine’s not only reasonable

The central heating unit cost has given in

To reciprocity of skateboard and young steam

Relinquishing the sotto in each voice

Surprisingly indelible

Sweet heartfully delivered as ex parte troth 

Contrasting golden starch slow heals mythic fate

Outside skirting the home phone

Laps of quality contralto spinning

Sad strong stamen lily pools

Misunderstand the palsied sense of leaf

Defunct injunctions weather some stalled

Load factoid that trumps surprise

Adorning wheat co patterned after

Stuttered speech

The noble latticework of spun

Stalled grace lest we be

Clear enough to denigrate our sun

From talk comes glide

A patron passes trump surprise

With veins you could adorn I guess

What seemed to be co-felt

As patterned grace still stutters falsely past

Unless we nobly sun ourselves

With yet pink wings under some glass

Made violet awhile

To house the drink and blinking

A rough cut of derangement

Show of hands bursts through the what-if 

Tracking systole tracing loiter craft to take

Bait to the croon shire versus ranting

In the groin fallen to razored

Length and say-so parked astride performance

Where it follows instinct 

How do projects lately start

Without a formula within a formula left whole

The plinkdom often fasts 

Break variegated harbor canned breath

Deep down cloistering the empty

Out of block attention held

Hostage in situation lithograph

To purse our slipshod lip service

The neighbors know mid flow

How come inamorata finger F-sharp

When the chorus turns to sponge

You have something good to bring

He’s hard to hear let go

For loathing’s sake your pulchritude

Each lore events its way toward

Rim shot incandescent sustenance

The Pinkerton beneath the eye

Inflames a novel built to prep concurrency

A silkworm in the fray still nabs each 

Quibbling noon time fever

In the plural drive

The slice goes whoooom and spackles heat

Its motherful enlistment priested 

Glass talks walled-in warm wait

Weevil pursed alliance plenty trained

No-go elastic fatherhood entombs

Its way out of the fault lines

Pressured to exist

In mind our empty (very) heart

Contour lifts the arch of slowly upbeat

Sentences near-termed

Concussion in the confluence

Of ordered families

Thought broth, telltale droppings

Not dissimilar to sinecure

A mantra, episodic such points

Manifest in six packs draining summer

Afternoons as sleep clear surface near the body

Page one war crimes lift our short attention span

From lanky enemies conspicuous disjunction

Through the durable new premise

Made of ink and car parts

In the form of plus signs row on row

Waste water silt and periscope

The utile front run bell

Made whole pre-savings in the balance

Of off shore divided into chapters

Given over to the taffeta our unimportance

Can’t be retro-duced, nor should it

Own a shred of ingrown in-fill rife with meth

And sundry blood lines made of

Patch and clay pones scored

By handsome swarthy scientists

Who languish mid-semester where

The hammock swings so fine

You might make dust motes out of tuba breath

Satisphere like hemp jumpropes

Olfactory rendition of the copyist

Who winters upon grammar’s pinched anatomy 

How will I know you when we’re both gone 

Window shopping’s very like fill dirt

A top hat navigation soon to flow

Row homes vocal with shamanic

Fracas amid tonal fog

The limp quest of a couch with aunts upon it

Waiting for my car, my breath, my say-

So to return, it’s glassy here, our

Midst, crowded with supple stains and

Crouching doily disregard for pumice

And the wicked putter of these trace

Tracks underneath my eyes, charting

(Tiny) evidence in place of long

Wind threatening to be brandished palpably

Instead of yanked out of the cauldron

For extinction

Flow forward, lapse then, tie a slip

Of string around your thumb and hitch

Back to the hiked-up skirt that fits

He’s on the phone from the Midwest with

Some semantics stuck between mentation

And delivery, I am anything but fallow

In my forties, champions dry their

Hands on glee, do you, think what

I’m thinking, this robust apparency

Impaled on stalks one after the next

Chance feels anything but hasty

Fact:  I buy commodities apart from

Promises for which I know the fingerings

Most disappointments have yet to be

Released pan-fried with tame, exacting light

Triune latex film agonistes

Pray laxing very monthlong sacral bread

More than you value in the unglued

Staggerance who knew how rough at long last

Faithwalk limns as if the surface

Were the whole, intact accidental

Sophistry remakes the fuel line

Out of secrets anything but stained by

Real blood out of hand, to wit

The stumbling lethargy removes

A have-to as we wait derailed by

Nominative patience judgments pretty

Summary, offer to sell entitled to a share

Vincent glovebox learned to lie

We petted vacancies galore with him

Enunciating a bass clarinet parsed

Votive stray things you might mossify

Drop-in one-load fluency with meat hooks

To remind us all of the explosives tasted

With being dead on practice with our curls

Rapidly changing into rarified

Last gasps and sundry

Everyone says bees are

Swilling in a herd a tempo,

Riced the way we fortran them

As immigrants raging to shore

Imagine petulance in bodied form

All midnight long symptoms of daylight

Threatening to parse our fears

Into a template’s given plaster

Moved where we would move it

In a row

I think I know you not a little yet

The very sting of all this pluck commands me

From a top-down gestural

Perspective virtually including downtime

And just a little water dripped onto

The page that I am writing in my

Little book, the piped-in music rattles

Like true background, two men

Sit across performing recitations, not


Here is how the perfect (waltz to sleep,

I savor you, I brawl, the catastrophic

Morning after morning comes to

Salty grips with sadness any old

And swivel hips and down time

(Come to me, the elements all

Slightly sieve through polymer

And clank in pain for something

Seasonally adjusted and not working

Now that I am warned with little food

I lapse into a formed unframed in

Cushion of bliss with you around me

All inside and touching the soul’s

Quick mind and piercelessly

My thought only of you, of joinage

To the very hip top

To extract vernacular where it might

Fit to the form as it’s evolving

Let a little of the sun be struck by

Poverty we live inside and out,

Squalls hibernate in careful

Surroundings made by mind and

Fence by hand the very treasure-

Ness of shoulder after crowns

Me with deluxe inherency of

Why don’t you malt away

In here beside me, make us


Meridia fight stealth because our betters

Shift priorities, last but not

Limited, we prey upon their silk wish

And their osprey where it hurts

To venally recast the stalled

Rotation of our Everest where

Spring once had leads back

To winter clothes and sharecropped

Virtue if the nuns relinquish how we’re clad

Often it is dark again I am becoming

Less afraid of opposites attract

As the hegemony in fact a rich wherever

Fountaining against the backboard

Of indulgence multiplied by six or more

Resistance of the worn sleigh brag feel

Of encomium as if it were enough

To have been bred longhand

As one of us continues into slate gray

Transitory morning

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