I am to turn 26 this year. Tumultuous has been my life. A near constant struggle with how I fit into the world is starting to ease off. Starting writing bits during a very dark teenage year - I always would write after someone had taken something from me, a theme startlingly obvious in some of my poems. In recent years I have learnt to write when I'm happy, and last year was asked to write a poem ... more »
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Georgina Murray Poems
Sultans Of The Ottoman
Sultans of the Ottoman Men of Timbuctoo, Lotharios all over But none could love like you.
Good Manners Cost Nothing
There are many a thing, about being a lad, That I remember still to this day. But 'ave good manners, they cost you nothing, Is what me ole grandpa would say.
Evaluating My Life
I am evaluating myself What an equation to solve! Looking algebraically at my reflection
A Note to the Flamingo
A note to the flamingo, that lives at the top of the stairs- Will you come down and join us? It's been three months now! I know you Miss Flamingo, your feathers bright and true,
Your horse no longer has legs, your body has lost its head. The excitement of the chase, the take, Is what thrills you.
That Feeling of Being R-a-p-e-d
Fat drops roll down my cheeks, they grieve The part of me I gave to you, The inconceivable part, that nobody ever gets a hold of.
I see them up in the air, Their noses point towards you. You are above, amongst the giants, I see you Sirius. I see you Ursa, your tail is poised.
My mother loved nothing more, Than to quaff, Champagne galore. What was her favourite? It slips my mind, So many bottles, not enough time!
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
I can think of none such awful time, Than this ordeal filled with strife I may even take my life, At the thought of losing you.
Thirteen am and we’re gliding. The streets love us now. Look at me! I stood over them all, Bow to me…I love you. I see you encompassed by your smoke,
Comments about Georgina Murray
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Sultans Of The Ottoman
Sultans of the Ottoman
Men of Timbuctoo,
Lotharios all over
But none could love like you.
Your tireless strength, the smile inside,
It's all the small things that you hide.
I'm lost, and I'm wandering through.
It's like a drug, loving you
The constant craving
The bad comedown,
Yet all this fades
When you're around.
Your secret scent, just like the deer
Im intoxicated, I want you near.
I can't hold on,
I need my fix
Embrace me now, I crave your lips.
Maybe Harlow may have seen
Our most unusual fate,
Just like the ...