sheila murphy

Following are some sample poems from Concentricity:

Of Lullaby

My orchids suffer from your paramilitary attitude. Won't you touch me? Every bit of lullaby soothes moments of the hurt, despite the uniform and lovely water. What is known of our biographies: that they belong to us and fan out into meanings. Cuff links rubbed to a dramatic shine. Pristine things swerve into relationship with seasoned elements. Can a habit be unlearned? A white shirt used to clean unruly appliances. Real flowers in the photograph appear affordable. Phases of our joining include partial poverty. Would seem refreshing as respect. As familiar as the word tulip where the flower has been unframed petal flesh. The desire to pulp a value. Quantify the fact of touch as hospitality. To temper parchment with pressed flower skin held in a book.

Faculty of memory, the way you looked, and still the earth around these other tangibles

A Limited Edition Lust

How do you reciprocate the act of smothering? Control spawns jewelry made from breath's rubbing the mirror clean and dry. One looks peaceful, while the other peeks out from behind a clumsy shadow in pursuit of independence. I watched the penmanship begin to falter into age that he could not resemble perfectly. A gentleman stepped from the shower with a pensiveness less sharable than certain. Misting some of the occasion. No one certain who he was. Few write letters anymore, much less love tunes that flow from left to right on five-lined sheets. The fabric strays from clarity to something sweet to touch as this companionship. A limited edition lust shifts conversation from a breezeway to a bold alert for rationing. Most of the men considered themselves heat lamps. Most of the women did not seek the sun. Who does not seem interesting beside a crowd of strangers? Someone truly interesting.

Elusive Paycheck

I am not a cinder. Do you blank me? What shaped mirror do I hold to you? Am diamond refund. Back to square. Am longing, lofty doctrinaire. Am long on bonds and short on coin. The squall will parse things as amendments to the lofty sitcoms. Are you there? The mozzarella leans in close. Restricts me to the gooseneck shaped like myriad filmed silvers. When will the ever promised mist come home to page? Never will get used to an elusive paycheck. Commas plunked down like collateral sing ominosity of postponement set to music. Will there ever be a there to poke fun at? My silence is presumed a symptom. I attract. For instance I can neptune clear across the hall. Perambulators glisten when presented to the swell guy learning on the banister. It used to be like peristalsis here and now it's turned to crumbs.

Template, forms of unison, shelter as withdrawal


Leaves green themselves past budding. Tea malt codifies hegemony. And when we're slow, we're sampled in parentheses. The symbolism leaks fraypoints when we smother our cadavers home. Come close and water me. If I were seventy, I'd need a crane to move my books. I would avoid stilts and sip with confidence stability, panache. Near the ivy is more ivy. Near the strains of numinous vibrato I confront the real output of scars. Primacy recency adopts new flavor and delivers lumbar, texture, plenitude. How many ounces are we dancing in (dependently)? The new birds squall as they are formed. We're finding more of our declensions. Raw, from scratch, out-of-the-box the way we do, and all at once as children with blueberry mindsets all our own

Sheila E. Murphy lives in Phoenix, Arizona. She is a widely published poet who has
performed her work internationally. In 1999, Murphy was the guest of the Brisbane Writers Festival in Queensland Australia hosting 27,000 attendees, with several "guest readers" from Ireland and England. She read the following year in England as part of a residency in Devon for the Arvon Foundation, where she collaborated with poet/painter Rupert Loydell in facilitating a weeklong workshop. In 2000, Murphy read at the Boston Poetry Festival and for the Lit City Series in New Orleans.

    She publishes widely in literary magazines and writes prolifically, in many different styles. Prose poems, including what she terms "American haibun," are among her favorite styles.

    Since 1999, Murphy has also been engaged in creating visual work, using both digital and physical formats, some of them including text.

    Her published work is archived at The Ohio State University Libraries, Rare Books and Manuscripts. Last summer, she and several other writers/visual artists appeared as part of a festival organized by Dr. John Bennett curator of "An American Avant Garde: Second Wave," hosted by The Ohio State University Libraries.

    Sheila Murphy's most recent publications include two online collections with chalkeditions: Reverse Haibun (2009) and Circumsanct (2009). Two collaborative textual collections appeared earlier this year as well:

Quaternity (with Scott Glassman, Otoliths Press, 2009) and how to spell the sound of everything (with mIEKAL aND, Xerox Sutra Editions. 2009). In 2008, Blue Lion Books brought out COLLECTED CHAPBOOKS.

    Murphy is active as a visual poet and artist, having developed a substantial body of work both individually and in collaboration with K.S. Ernst.

    To learn more about this remarkable artist, click here.