Now

She saved my life,
my stepmother did,
long after she was
no longer my stepmother;
she became my friend.
I, involved in a
abusive relationship,
sought her advice
and found the courage
to leave and live
my own life
without fear,
without intollerance,
without controls
and manipulations
and threats and bruises,
just as she had done
so many years before.
And now, fifteen years
later, as we scatter
her ashes, I ask myself
what have I done
with the gift she gave me;
wasting all these years?
And what am I going to do
about it now?


Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Sour Soul Mates

my heart clutches in my chest
as thoughts of you fill my head
and I wonder if you're alright.
our weird connection worries me
tonight; the way we finished
each others thoughts, each
others sentences, knew
exactly the right gift, the
right meal to make, the
right movie to bring home,
the right CD to play, without
saying a word. more like
one pea in a pod, the other
not needed. and though
we're millions miles
apart in spirit and just
around the corner,
I still hope
that you're okay.

Haiku #15

cool convertible
top down, hair wind blown, cruisin'
and here comes the rain

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #14

one little brown quail
waddles from the bush, then four,
mom watches, cautious

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #13

on the go, go, go;
hike, bike, swim, boat: leaves no time
to enjoy summer

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #12

beautiful roses
greet me "hi" every morning
fragrance wafts my way

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #11

red, white, purple, pink,
and my favorite, yellow;
roses, big and bold

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #10

ra-ruf, ra-ruf, ra
noisy little chihuahua
just won't let me sleep

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #9.1 and #9.2 vote for your favorite

bath in the back yard,
water hose, wet dog and soap,
shakes and splatters all.


bath in the back yard,
wet dog shakes and splatters all
now I need a bath


Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #8

puppy dog kisses,
dog breath, dog hair, sloppy tongue,
I don't really mind


Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

clouds roll in quickly
darkening the evening sky
all hail, storms brewing

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

a little ditti

sleep tight
starlight
wish I might
sleep thru the night

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku # 6

lazy Sunday morn
breakfast in bed, comics, coupons
perfect way to wake

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #5

little dogs barking
at shadows lurking nearby,
keep neighbors awake

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #4

dark black cloudless sky
millions of stars floating by
a cool summer night

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

haiku #3

thunder rumbling,
echoing across the sky;
warning: storm's coming

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

almost a haiku

haiku, oh haiku
ravage my too few brain cells
and won't let me sleep


Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

Haiku #2

the crickets echo
through the rain drenched trees, singing
a lost lullaby

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Murray

My First Haiku

lightening bugs flutter
sending morse code quick flashes
relay all is well

© 2010 Shawn Murray

Something She Wrote

This poem is a favorite of mine written by a good friend, Ryan King.
You can read his poetry at RyanKingOnline.com.

She who speaks softly and carries a big pen,
Always looking for the writer’s zen,
She who writes vivid and bold,
Always caring with a heart of gold,
May she be ever successful again and again.

© 2008 Ryan King

My Prince Charming

used to like your smile once,
you were charming and could sway
even the most stoic of us,
or me. your beguiling wit
and romantic ways entangled
my heart so thoroughly,
that even now and possibly
forever more, I may still fall
completely under your spell.

Goodnight Sweet Soul

Dedicated to Karl Campion, who passed from
this world June 10th, 2010, and to the legacy he
has left behind; his wife, Cheri and three children,
Jean-Luc, Jeremiah, and Amelia.

A heartbeat slowly diminishes
and stops, while the world carries on.
Other hearts stop, if only for a moment
as love dies,
and look to the world in astonishment
and wonder how can it go on
without noticing that another heart has stopped?
How does ones passing
barely get noticed
when all the world
is diminished by the loss
of a soul,
and all that is left behind
is legacy?


©2010 Shawn Ann Murray

Used to

Does she make Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
for you, just because, the way I used to?

Does she make you breakfast in bed,
or draw you a bath, the way I used to?

Does she clean up you mess,
or collect all your stuff, the way I used to?

Does she support your music,
or your career, the way I used to?

Does she pay half the bills and rent,
and buy groceries, the way I used to?

Does she love your dog,
or love you, the way I used to?

Do you use her and abuse her,
like me, the way you used to?


©2010 Shawn Ann Murray

Writing

I dedicate this poem to my friend cel,
whose poetry more often than not rhymes,
when mine more often than not doesn't.
This one is your fault.

I write when the world is quiet
and everyone's asleep,
the phone is still,
I don't hear a peep.

The tick of the clock,
the only sound,
is when the words come crashing
in leaps and bounds.

I must force myself to sit;
Butt In Chair, Hands On the Keys,
a little nudge to the Muse,
and pray I don't freeze.

Fiction flows fast
when on the laptop I do type.
Poetry comes best
when in longhand I do write.

Journaling comes easy
at the kitchen table.
Research is always
when the desktop is able.

Writing comes easiest
when I'm away from home;
Starbucks, Borders, Barnes & Noble,
or at a friends' when they're on the roam.

Writing is my life's blood,
as you can see.
It's the one thing that makes me
me.


©2010 Shawn Ann Murray

Can someone tell me about Pat?

Can someone tell me about Pat?
He was 11 the last time I saw him.
How was I supposed to know
that that would be the last time I saw him?

He moved away that summer
between Elementary and High School,
new school, new friends, new beginnings,
do we miss the old friends that moved away?

He was infatuated with me,
while I was not so much,
but he was my first steady
and we never even kissed.

I could have been nicer to him.
I could have been nicer to any of them.
Is that the pattern I set up for my life?
Is that the one he set up for his?

To be disappointed by everyone?
Or to be the dissappointment?
Sometimes I'm confused as to which one I am
as I'm sure he too was confused.

Confused so much as to take his own life.
I ask myself if I'd only been kinder
to my 11 year old friend
could I have saved the man he'd become?

Could his life and his death
still have a purpose for me?
Can I open my eyes to see
beyond what's in it for me?

The existence of my questions
should be enough for me
to realize even the questioning
means there's hope yet for me.

Do the tears I now shed
after 31 years, comfort anyone?
After feeling so lost and alone
what else could he have done?

I carry my loneliness locked deep inside of me
as I struggle and fight to set my personality free
so afraid to be hurt, so afraid to be me,
taking ones own life, how hard can that be?

Theif

You take from me
what you want
but don't you see
how it hurts you
in the long run?
Not only do you risk
losing your job
and going to jail
and losing my respect
but the costs go up
and the prices climb higher
and the hours get cut
and you can't find a job
and you can't pay your bills
and the bills go higher
and the cost of living goes up
and the poor get poorer
and inflation increases
as the dollar decreases
and the stock market crashes
and unemployment skyrockets
and the government collapses
and our children go hungry
and die
and all because you had to have
that DVD for free.

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Ann Murray

Sketch

I always wanted to sketch you,
your lean half naked body
lying on the bed as you read
a book, the slight ripple
of muscles you called abs,
leading the eye toward the
slight curve of your stomach
where the light hairs
became noticable as they
drew together in a line
leading toward your unzipped
jeans, the hollow of your hip
barely visible,
the sketch pad abandoned
and even your bare naked feet
couldn't keep me from you.

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Ann Murray

Thinking of You

It's raining
and I think of you.
We never danced in the rain,
kissed in the rain,
sang in the rain,
or even pissed in the rain,
but yet,
I think of you.

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Ann Murray

The Fool Moon

The fool moon
whispers softly
to the rain
as she dances
across the window pain

The fool moon
sings of his love
to the rain
as she softly falls away
pat, pat, pat
through the leaves of the trees

The fool moon
laments
his love
to all who would listen;
the sun, the clouds, the stars
in the sky
until the fool moon
watches
the rain kiss the sun
and give birth
to a rainbow.

Copyright © 2010 by Shawn Ann Murray