Right Under Left Over
A collection of 65 poems. Willfully marionette-ed and directed by hands not of my own, tapping out sporadic codes to crack the enigmas that remain…
This book deals with what has been left over from twelve years gestation and nine months labor that brought life to these words, the literary afterbirth; the trailing thoughts and unfinished business, and where to file such observations and emotional experiences.
As well as being a play on words, the title implies that we visualize our mind as a giant file cabinet; And, the things we have come to understand still left un-categorized, should be filed right under left over.
Finalizing events; bringing closure to open ended thoughts; to make peace with struggle; to embrace the suffering and learn the lessons within. We tend to come to final solutions regarding all our combined moments, broken down one at a time individually. Yet we don’t see how subtle, and quickly, the brain works; we lump things in to general categories instead of itemizing every line item. We let go of the innate ability to see things beyond the surface texture. Sometimes the most delicious tastes come from within the protection of the ugliest veneers.
This is indeed the facilitator for the great illusion; constructs of our imaginings designed to suffice more pressing material needs, to displace natural evolution with Man’s deeds. Accepting mortality as is should be; a natural extension of life, wherein we become changed. Is it really the dichotomy of all things, love & hate, joy & sorrow, good & bad, rich & poor? Or is it the dichotomy of the One; God, who’s seed is firmly seated in our soul without directions or an instruction booklet, or even a map. Which is to say, is it all inherent; and the moment we come into this life we start to forget, and begin learning substandard contradictory behavior and action?
As for the cover photo
This was from 1988, and I did not make this picture. It was made by a friend of mine, Paulo Tiexeria; A Portuguese fellow. We worked together in the camera store at the mall.
The story behind the picture is as this; Paulo was on his way home from work, late, after ten o’clock at night. He came upon the scene in his neighborhood as the police were chalking the outlines around the body and, the motorcycle this soul was riding; Excessive speed, loss of control, loss of life.
The police wouldn’t let Paulo close enough to make pictures, so he put on his 400mm telephoto lens and snapped these from behind a grassy knoll; well, it was from behind the yellow tape line really, and he stood on grass, kind of knoll like.
We all end up shedding our skins in one way or another eventually, albeit this presentation is rather graphic, but so is reality.
Enjoy,
M. Murphy
RIGHT UNDER LEFT OVER
Re-incarnation
Life goes on
To have no end
Of prayer and song
And the mind will mend
Revolve in a circle
Evolve yet again
The waters ripple
And betray sin
Like an energy pool
Formless and floating
A gift from what school
Lost and eroding
Enter this life
Fresh and anew
Mother’s new knife
Hardened steel blue
We live and we die
Remember mere bits and pieces
To ourselves we lie
Of incarnate creases
Mere Thoughts
Just another week or so, of dread
Similar to dead, so they say
Like the song, that answer
Is blowin’ in the wind, truth
No man knows, market speculation
So it will be another chunk
Of time, registered in smooth format
Easy to swallow bite size morsels
Always a matter of time, so
Does anybody have the time?
Can’t you tell I’m not sure
Judged by the callus’ on my feet
Long strands of peeled skin
Recycled, never wasted
Acquired, tasted
Stranded dashed hopes of rescue
Flesh once stripped leaving bone residue
Wounds of severity do regenerate anew
We can imagine a fashion survivable
Harsh and seemingly drastic thoughts
Mere thoughts…
Leave It
Be a trooper, a troubadour open door and walk on through
See the man on the street with a giant bottle of gin
See the pain in how I write, observe the human zoo
Watch closely listen carefully learn not to give in
Life remains, remains unfinished never to an end
Like a song by the best to keep you wanting
Sing it again you ole dog you, again to heal and mend
Purest joy and symphony, harmony when we are poor
Leave it for now
Fortune
She told me my fortune
Read my palm
Said I would live to be 125
I said at least
And furthermore
Where do you get your information?
One who understands the complex simplicity
The simple complexity
The mystery
The why and what fors
Just where will that path lead
Five chickens and a dog
A hair salon for punk rock hairdos
Hair sculptures she said
Never marry but lots of kids
A gift of sight or a curse
Of blindness
I keep my future in my hands
My destiny, my life
Just when and how far
And where
Should it be that solitary existence
The hunter predator of experience
So damn hard to peg
Face Anew
I see yourself, your face anew
Every time I look at you
I forget you when I’m gone
I’ve opened my soul to see
The love I have for thee
I reach into the ashes
I find hopes and dreams
For a reality of seams
Threads unraveled to infinity
Sharing my universe from me
Now I know the adornment
What awe beheld unto thee
As innocent as can be
No tragedy shall befall me
Essence innate and tuned akin
When I don’t ask myself
The answers I seek
They come like a book
Open and read big plain
Not trying at all sight sane
As I’ve always been here
For you to have as companion
Lover friend and no label
Forgive me if I stare at you
Each second love grows new
Conductor
Surrendering myself to an unseen force
Never ease the rushing waves
Knocking me over every time
Dumping sand in my shorts
In time
Everything either gains or loses its luster
And answer to why
You put a dumpster in the alley
But no one is that righteous
Save for only in the mind
For it will be ongoing
My observations of humanity
Nobody seems interesting
Unaware of the time
And children’s eyes see all
I play that game of innocence
Known as a repulsion to some
Not enough questions
I really must be on my way
The out of tune song
A marred melody
Hurting my ears
(the) Symphony of phony
Instruments we hate to play
And a faded wish for the extreme
Conductor
Going Mad
Am I going mad?
Unraveling at the seams
It seems to me
Alone in the streets
Trapped in a cage
I am going mad
I believe
This is true
One and one
Is two
Together they will remain
With each other
Insane
And happy
Unraveling at the seams
It seems to me its happening
Happening again
And going mad
Mad
Insane
Losing control of my composure
Wanting to at least
All the time pacing
Myself to an end
is nearer than you think
Writing without stopping
The flow is just fantastic
Cause, it just comes out
And my mind races
Around a genetic track
Roughly beyond the speed of light
There is an insane person
Waiting to go mad
Insanity And Madness
Insanity and madness
Races, like a speeding bullet
Through my brain
(it) Ebb tides these surges
Power surges
Help me, think
Without thoughts of massacre
I’m lost in a world
Of, exact directions to go
To, predetermined destinations
Wandering, aimlessly, about
A precise path to follow
Leading myself to nowhere
Sane, and sober
Madly drunk
About a world
Lost on its feet
Split by personality
Living many lives
Revolving in a circle
Fulfilling different destinies
Being quite spontaneous
Reflection
I look at my hands and the reflection of death that stares back at me
With empty eyes
A stare in to space that sees a particular
So close to reach
A soothing voice rang out from the phone
Honey, are you there
My wife said I love you
Hands trembling head shaking I come back to Earth
Stay by my side and hold my head in your hands
I feel the calm rush over me and see the love in your heart
And feel the pain in your eyes
Sitting Now
I’m sitting now sweating, so comfortably
Yet thoughts escaped my head
As walked up this well traveled way
The repetition took away my say
Filed in an overstuffed mind
We all want to see it coming
A second coming, a sweet phenomenon
Aromas of scabbed foot prints
Or dashed hopes to bank on
I think of something new to say
My thoughts do nothing but betray
A mouth teeth and gums bleeding
Spitting cheap talk so nothing
But a wish to run naked
Looking much to describe
Of what’s already been done
Neatly pressed emotions
To explain similar differences
Odds being against me
Feeling drops run down my back
All too provincial over fed and twisted
Pull up around a mid-drift waist
Big ass shorts creeping crack a minute
Fresh young faces with old timely traces
Weaving a web of deceit being not so new
Hatred Chair
So seated in a hatred chair
Not willing to be fair
Twirling matted hair
The despot witch
Such a bitch
Not a stitch
No common decency
Of un-banded humanity
Judgments passed freely
Did not stop to think ahead
No love in that heart
My how those children bled
Years too late for a start
And the day shall come and pass
O’er ungrateful soul
A crop of weeds you plant and grow
The selfish bundle of bleak harvest
Evil
We all have the dwelling evil
Of human curiosity living inside
Some let it out and act upon nature
While others, the others run and hide
…and we are called decent
Sweet Angels
My sweet Angels with me
Only a matter of time
So relative
I thank thee
My love and spirit rise
And labors rewards shall come
In forms of freedom, a wailing cry
No pain has befallen me
And I thank thee observant trial
Change, a sense of weight I see
Present, sweet memory
New rose buds sweet
Fragrant divinity
And I thank thee, my Angels
We Die
We all die
Not all of us truly live
And the shadows cast are long
Over troubled walks of life
And we cry
Roses
Roses are dead
Violets are dead
No words said
No one remembers those fragrant lines
How much they meant to lovers
To the dreamers, we make due
Roses of clay
No violets today
All we can say
Now go away
Picasso
I dreamt that I painted
With Picasso
Maybe not so
But I painted anyway
He and his cohorts
Hung around naked
Made themselves invisible
To time and space
I worked on a large face
A view looking up
The neck to the chin
In to the nose
And I love a dream as this
Like a kid loves candy
Licking big nipples dandy
From the girl called Mandy
That Game
And now, can we play that game
With the truth we maim
We stab with our spears
In to the air
We hope
What are our costs?
The blind babies they struggle
To find a hold in the dark
Go to the end of the line
They say
This poor old sod
I lit up one smoke after another
(and) Stare off at my distorted views
No longer can I ask
Do tell
Back on my feet again
My soles worn thin through
My clicking heels, oh Dorothy
I want to go back home
It’s gone
I’ve had my share of toast and jam
Smeared on my face like a pig
Greasy hairs clenching spinal fists
Of sleeved wars and tingled sense
Now stop
Habit
Pain full habit
Leave me now
Take up a new harbor
Unto a ship-less pier
You exist but for a second
Too long for this
World a bubble
Creature comfort
Wichita
You could spell out
Wichita Acres
On her stomach
Hanging
Slap hands on a pink belly
On the move like jelly
Bag lunch
Diet coke
Principle
The principle wins low degree
Interest lost in equality
Eyes on the scene of the crime
Spotting a thumbprint from the hand of time
Jerusalem
The King lay down his scepter
All the subjects wept
Led in to a small room
Jerusalem
Where Kings lay
Dead
Shroud for a bed
Bob Dole
Eleven o’clock and all is not well
All politicians can go to hell
Bob Dole, Bob Dole, go play with your pole
Stick it up in to Jack’s little shit hole
You’re wasting our time
You pathetic slime
You would die
If you couldn’t lie
Vote you out of office
Give the job to a novice
You’re supposed to be a public servant
To work for free
Do what you are told
To service the public
In your thankless job
If you actually worked
On programs that matter
Your egotistical head
Would never get fatter
Loser punk
Dirty skunk
Lock your mother in a trunk
Starr
A Starr is barred
Or so the headline should read
You wasted millions
For a purpose of greed
(and) The history books will read
Everybody sins
So what he did was wrong
You played your little game
Go sing your little song
In our hearts you’re wrong
This country of ours
Should prosecute you
Mr. Independent counsel
Look how you talk
Watch where you walk
And the fate of this game
The elephant and the ass
With which we name
The servant serpent
We need not be so crass
Waiting For The Dawn
Bitter sweetness fell
Upon my face
Run down like an old time peace
Springs broken needing repair
A whistling old timer
Giving directions to lost passers-by
The leathery skin and veins popping
Stride and grace of an ole hound dog
Anger rises and falls
Like the tides at Fundy
So many fish out of water
Drowning on the thin air
Moon rising from behind
The mountains standing naked
Usher this new day
Waiting for the dawn
Nose Plug
Such as the hand upon the shoulder
And a distant sound of thunder
We blanket out fear
With feigned ignorance and a wistful smile
Two fingers claim peace among the masses
We cover our ears
Cousins sometimes marry but what is the love
And prodigy flippers through life’s waters
We hide our eyes
Pall bearers walking out a carcass
Subtle reminder of a stuffed life
We bite our tongue
The room is dark curtains drawn
Two lovers claim togetherness
We plug our nose
Stakes on the grill
To bend in the wind
Like stakes on the grill
The fire so hot and smoking
Be still, listen
To children who white wash the fence
That damned picket fence
Is innocence still sought
After we thought
So much hate
Purchase
Make a purchase of equipment
Laugh at why we cared
Run from those who shared
Our feelings, left to our own devices
I’m stealing electricity
From the building that I live in
Mine got cut clean off
Wise acre utility farmer
And a drop of water, my thoughts
Of fairness, the blemish protruding
Just how much more do I go on
Are the waiting ones lying in wait
Sun
The sun wept
Everybody ran away to hide
When I walked within its sadness
To my joy the crying rain
Cool and soothing making soft
Sharpness dulled to haze
And the band played on
And the sun wept, somebody died
A child was born somewhere
Opaque
Faces of time alone unbending
Cannot change the course of tides
Rivers cut paths on their own
Turning back, avoid turning ahead
Not a decision by will alone
The course of events opaque
Blinding a moment to one who cannot see
Poison Fields
In fields of dreams
Where most all run to
Plowed under
Crops of poison
If you watch them grow
Seedlings don’t dare to sprout
The foul winds
Carry no remedy
When upon the rocking porch
The scenes fly by
Save but a few
Who persevere
In born taught moments
Like Fathers before
Against timeless odds
My memory serves me
Only in numbers and events
Few words surface
To be seen
Intent emotionally rampant secure
None ever like this
As this, for it was
And to behold the grandeur
The lonely paradise
Falls to black
Ever reaching touching
Knowing and seeing ahead
The uncertainty still remains
To be seen
Always apparent to all
Nowhere
The beautiful emptiness
In my head, pangs of nothing
To reach this point, a struggle climb
Summit, pointed out its self so often
Such deliberate cause
Nowhere is now here
Bi-Polar
Bi-polar winds
In a whispering woods
Take me out to a clearing
No more flailing about
A cuspidor dream
Chewing bits of nonsense
Sharpened to death
Eating chunks of flesh
Run along
Deepened creases of the sun
Carved in to
The hill sides of faces
A cold lie
Weeping force of nature
Colors bleeding
Traces of past waves
Wayward Traveler
The Wayward Traveler
Aren’t we all
Knowing or not
With or without
Bits of map
Information
Follow or not
Lead or follow
That is where we go
Only so few
To be destined
To destination
And pity not
But pity all
Our word is bond
And the Traveler
Never walks
An empty road
Psychic
Like a psychic
I read my thoughts
And I know how to do
So should you
Freak
And Mother said
Kill the freak
Before it gets away with murder
The cage couldn’t hold it
No longer
Down to the city center
Running at a top speed
My legs could not pedal
Fast enough to catch it
Vermin
Yet we determine
And get puzzled
By our trappings
To snare vermin
Winter
White, the winter
Come the throes of blindness
Stealing the essence of many souls
Too naked to withstand the elements
Can’t afford a cuppa caw fee
Wide awake in the sleepy slumber
The blanket of cold
Feet tremble the thoughts of trails
Upon leaving, we depart
And arrive before we get there
So resign
Waist Band
Elastic waist band
Plays an unfamiliar tune
So tight you could just pee
Spy the universal chart
A bulge out lined
Truth hidden hangar
Jiggly wiggly
Open all night
With specials for all
Beaten to a juicy juice pulp
With somebody’s Grammy
Or MTV music award
Better to have lockjaw
From that episode not aired
Of the casting couch gag
Mirror
Upon reflection
The funny mirror reveals all
The pattern of destiny
Significant seemingly
Again those words
Come round to haunt me
And I follow the white line
Or a dotted line yellow
Any line no matter
Has brought me to this place
Blindly I see what has become of me
Fruit Jar
Nose hair fruit jars
On the window ledge
Fermenting
Winker
Hook line and sinker
Fed my diaper stinker
In a little while
Intestine run a mile
Out pops a running winker
Leprechaun
Lucky little Leprechaun
Hold the pot of gold
Get arrested on television
Sent to jail until you’re old
In Bed
Stay at home in bed
To scratch your little head
Over and over
Like my dog Rover
Humping so much you bled
Twilight Bungalow
The twilight bungalow
Upon which they laid to rest
And wasted away the mires
No bus stops or red lights
Crabs and turtles
Crowds of the shoreline
Intrinsic value
So little desire
Sweeping the sweet dirt under the rugs
Paleness abode
The children’s faces
Hungry and wanting
Emptiness
Emptiness runs to me
My thoughts do not obey
They stray
Wandering ‘mongst the litter
In my head
The maggots, feed on trash
I see the past
I sense the future
The weight of both
Growing like weeds
Dandelions
Furry tops blown away
Floating on the breeze
Such destiny
The West
How the west was won
A card game perhaps
Stakes so high
A price to die
Now it is won, the west that is
We play on again
A losing game cheating
To maim
Pumping filth
Regulated rhythms
No freedom
Stand and deliver
Oh Mother Earth
Arms open wide
Wrenched breasts
Milk drained cry
Foul Winds
Foul winds of war
The aroma stings the eyes
They water dropping anguish tears
Rotting flesh chokes us maggots, writhing
We cannot swallow down the bile
A ballet has risen among the survivors
Playing the stage looking for a path
To dredge who remains breathing
A careless step out of sync
And off comes an otherwise useful limb
Look at the eyes
Do what you will to a prisoner
Can we make them any more comfortable?
Did I mention the Mothers?
The sorrow and the suffering
Such a minor detail slipped me
War is made and waged like a job
For men mostly, for democracy
Or religion, oh the thousands of years
For that old excuse, or a land dispute
A derogatory remark, or a foul look
Here’s a good one because the rest of us
Are inferior humans, excuse me
Nonsense
Tired of the ways of the means
Means and ways just how not
Rest with your chin on your forearm
Dig deep in to the pockets of your mind
For lost change you’re thirsty
Aren’t you?
Tear the eyes out of your skull
Tonight go purposefully blind
To the world for help
Be seen standing
All alone and naked
No more masks
I’m tired
Of all this
Nonsense
Pale
Pale in comparison
Is this right
To keep on like this
And question
I would sit at a table forever
Letting out all that came to entertain
Just to see how random in order
The chaos can become unsettling
Vomit more words
Another line of fate
Closer it draws one
To question
Explorer
No more survivors
Yet mere enjoyment
And delight
My curiosity
Not of what has been or said
To model my affections
So poor in taste bitter
Are we not explorers?
Should we not explore?
Possibilities limitless
Minds too narrow
Easily detached what a sucker
A pigeon of surprises none left
On a doorstop a box of mystery
To explore
Speak So Soft
Speaking so softly
Out of turn, of tongues
In ways of petals
Satiny smooth
So comforting a touch
And lay down in pastures
Counting the ways
How trite the example
Where has it gone, when
It never disappeared
With new definitions
We ride again the bike
Exploring the paths anew
Having our face to face
With God
How right the sample
So now it is born again
The cycle remains
View apparitions
Of a pain and fortune
Of wishes and dreams
The supper table place
Hoping so softly
It’s our turn it’s now
To ways of petals
Satiny smooth
Spiritual and such
To lay down in new pastures
Exercise
The exercise
An exposition of life
Through keen deliberate
Observation
Understanding the rudiments
Of the human animal
Surroundings
And devices
Movement and motion
Therapeutic, meditative
You become
The lark and the fool
Motives clarified
Reasons unknown
Like the high dive jump
The climb laced with adrenaline
Dive right in, you swan
Sailing star-ship trooper
All joys and sorrows
That contains, like wire mesh
Chicken coop, bin order pen
Truly a slop trough
Your strokes, sands running
Through your fingers, a proverb
Woe the eyes
Treasure to seek, sunken on down
Waiting to be picked at like a crab
Surface to have found what you desire
Settle for a lesser, toss away your dislike
Don’t swallow too much, save your life
Burnt Matches #1
Burnt matches
Tossed neatly and piled high
They smell
Crinkling sinking and stinking
Literally thousands
Maybe even millions perhaps more
Burnt fingers
Worn down and struck out
Burnt Matches #2
More burnt matches
Placed end to end
Going ‘round
And ‘round and ‘round
She goes
All the way to China
Neatly laid
Spelling out burnt matches
Ripped Apart
Ripped apart at the seams
Threads and fibers of sanity
Unraveled blowing the breeze
Flowing to the ground
Picking up specks of dust
Life that has fallen through the cracks
Comprehensive misdemeanor
An error in judgment
Sentenced for a life
Of faultless memories
Rotting Thoughts
Instamatic
Benevolence
Polaroid night dreams
Adjustments
Calculations
Wonderfully gross sauces
Dripping down somebody’s chin
Linoleum floor
Air plane food
Sleep
Lack of
Deeply needed
Rotting thoughts
Outlaw
The outlaw rides the streets
On his tricycle
His Mother screams
Eddie Getcher ass in, hear now
No wonder he’ll kill
Like so many do
Do be do be do
Baseball
Baseball
Hot dogs
Apple pie
Butter milk biscuits
Tall glass of milk
Blood soaked tampons
Snot covered children
Butt littered towns
Smoke pouring everywhere
Intestinal gazes
Walls within walls within walls
Within more walls
That’s my America
Par for the course
If you’re cheating
Take it on the lamb
Or milk fed veal
Business as usual
For a pimp
Will that be cash, check or charge?
Thank you come again
And have a nice day
War
What I am bid for another war
Do I hear 50 thousand?
100 thousand
300 thousand
875 thousand
C’mon, lives are at stake here people
Who will give me a million?
Going once
Going twice
Sold to the man in the red white and blue
Jumpsuit holding the penis
Slay the Giant
To slay the giant, eat at his dinner table
Consume the fruits of his labor, long
Time a coming better not waste a moment
Stale sweetness, bitter stinging to my eyes
All the time, every time all the time
My stinging eyes squint and see the truth
Another murder, senseless pointless and greedy
Benign, the sign in the window by the line
Line by line, judge the fine painted crime
Hopes And Dreams
My longing wishes hopes and dreams
A far gone reality
Tattered threads ripping seams
Standing entrancing thinking alone
Find the love to call home
When I look in to your eyes
They beg me to do the right thing
As for me I can only try
My heart has its own song to sing
Wings of angels
Lift me higher
To see etched in plain words
So subtly to answer the question
I love thee
This Tale
But haven’t we all read this tale before
(and) Now can we take it further
The pure deepness an exposition of the internal
Processes of imagination analytical conclusions
Knowing no end it’s over cannot be what’s left
When humans are no longer being born, that
Is when the odds draw nearer, out of favor
To come up with something new, never has been
A time to re-invent more critical plainly
For all to see this new spectacle in our struggle
To commit ourselves in blind immortality
And preach a gospel of perpetual democracy
On an asphalt causeway so marred in destiny
There was a man who proposed that we don’t exist
Did he exist I can’t see him so he mustn’t
But as sure as I breathe I persist to exist
As peach nectar I’m a treat to spoon in
Seeing the road not the bends and curves
Just as a memory of mama’s fresh naked goods
Linger in sense we have to find out
Forgetting all till we bite in to another slice
Story
Tell me a story
Like a Who album rock my sense numb
With organized madness making harmony
Webbed treats, a bottled milky udder distraction
Theme a team of exotic colors, and attitudes
Crushing the opposition to dust particles
A soft shirt so comfortable worn many times
Bring rain fresh birth to one’s armpits
Showing off the sealed Mason jar
Filled with clipped toe nails from the years
The Street
Walking down the street
Little jelly roll
Sweet darlin’ butter pie
Playing grab hands today
Going to see a mouthy wench
Talkin’ trash all she says
It’s me; it’s me, for the sake of Pete
She stills owes me money
Gonna get mine one day
They will all pay
It will be my say
Not just a selfish way
Sister and her judging praise
Losing to the gall bladder boy
Brother dear Lord this kid
He’s been through too much
Mother don’t feel so lost
It will be bought at cost
Father, well Dad you see
I’m trying to be me
Luck’s a changin’
For the better
No expectations
Today or tomorrow
Shy boy girls love me
Don’t know what to say
To attract her prize
I’ve heard about the play
This is the pain
That keeps me away
My studio sense
Outweighs the pay
Classical Words
I always think of those classical words
To write them out like a poet
A mandible pinching the blank air
For the words can only stare
We meter the rhythms of beating hearts
Of bleating hearts and lovers whims
Flower petals feed my soul
(but) Words in line with heartfelt rhyme
The questions are posed again
To be, the smack on the chin
Or not, like the child who wiped snot
On the sleeve of a brand new shirt
My friends, my loves, my family at heart
I’ve run up and down this flagpole of life
The taps have all played and we all stop
To watch our honor be folded or not
And more lines come rushing to greet me
A storm of literate woes and values
A breeze whose symphony in disguise
Waits to die venerate and wise
The Spiral Saint 