F. Jay Murphy Publishing

F. Jay Murphy Publishing An online anthology of literary works of poetry written by Poet F. Jay Murphy. A detailed interpretation of life through verses in stanzas. Enjoy!
~since 1991~

08/21/2025

“All Out of Prayers” (excerpt)
How do I go on?…
How do I matriculate agitated
rivers and
cascading pavements?
how do I breathe through
asystole?
How do I stand on stances
and prove my case?
Good nights bad days
Isolated quietude for
a way out of no way
Absence hurts but
I know that I am cursed
with a cycle of impermeable
anguish
the last shall be first
and foremost I know that
I’m not for….most
so my mom awaits
Peace is on lease but
there’s been a default
and repossession is afoot
How do I overlook?
I’m all out of prayers
my services are overbooked
How am I lost?
when the oblivious
fellowship in the corridors
of my gloom
Who paid the cost?
I am exhausted from
rehearsals and skits
and scenes and retakes
when the producers
already know that I’m
not for the role
How do I struggle?
Where do I go?
remotely offshore
to look for my
lighthouse?
right now it’s just
breastfeeding and regrets,
Autumn being played
amongst panicky
pessimists……
- F. Jay Murphy
©️2025.pfjm.fjaymurphypublishing.all rights reserved.

08/07/2025

“Broken Man”
Meditation, coffee, and rain.
on a rooftop overlooking
Thailand
catch sight of
the brawn of its sun
then watch mon
nab one as well as the
other..
the wai wai and barter
Impregnable feat
no hands in sand
the earth mother esteems
even the broken man
well go and get some rest
said the shepard girl
to the mighty king
mollycoddle late night
offerings, she murmurs
In his right ear
Conveying with adoration
Gifts she’s putting her
feet down to bring
stuck in the loveless
but she can’t stomach
rejection and avoids
Cessation by presenting
to the temple as a suffering
beggar, and…
even the broken man
circumvents her cervix
Circumcised , Christ-like
moonlight illuminates the rooftop
overlooking reciprocity of
their labyrinth romance
praise be to the broken man
who acquires her wider hips
lush jungles provide more
rain, as he
appreciates the voluptuousness
of her lips
the broken man
the embodiment of
first Peter 5 and ten
monastic vows and
the goings on all of
the night makes the broken
man thrive in lust
Spawns a nun beseeched
to a loft of aberrant blessedness.
- Poet F. Jay Murphy
©️2025.pfjm.fjaymurphupublishing.all rights reserved.

07/26/2025

“Numb”
flash fast forward
streaking fish eyed
finally
dance to the recuerdos
built on unfamiliar legacy
I wash clothes on different
cycles
colors, whites
delicates, extra dingy
and life gets better with
tattered fabric
like damaged addicts rehabbing
next door to their habits
….a soldier discharges to
a divorce
a realty bride goes
unseen
I’m just numb to things
settling for the lesser of
two evils, 7 strings
because 1 was
untuned and
fed up
when the guitars of life
strum thru frets
I forget the lyrics of it
expectations usher
disappointedly
consecrated with rancidity
rushing, crushing..colliding
a kaleidoscope with purposeful
disregard, give them my
regards, those memories
I’m so numb to things
blatant disrespect from
queening’s of kingings.still we protect..and provide
because the Quran tells
us to and
as long as I don’t
get a foreign object
lodged between the
obedience and uneasiness
silence, because you have
the right to remain…
silent
yet it still manifests
chitter chatter..and
maligned laughter
two dignitaries served
on a corroded platter
I’m just numb to the
blasphemy, to the
pundit tirade
since the diaconate ministry
is the jury of peers
soul’s seat in the kingdom,
revered
I’m so numb to the straddle
and duplicity
I wash clothes on different cycles
a heavy load like heavy love
of colors and whites
clean pomposity, restoral sight
In flight for right
In church all night
I’m so unbothered by
thwart extortion like
chores for chocolate morsels
and a bastard is in an airport
more frequently
In the kingdom,
there was a seat for my mama
and she has reserved
a seat just for me
flash fast forwad
streaming fish eyed
candidly
I’m so numb.
I no longer surmise
the pain.
- Poet F. Jay Murphy
©️2025.pfjm.fjaymurphypublishing. All rights reserved.

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