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Best Poems Written by Matthew Dunphy

Below are the all-time best Matthew Dunphy poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Love My Fellow Man

Eating a hamburger, chasing it down
With milk, I sit in the dismal
Heat of the August sun. The UV rays
Searing my leather boots, I perspire
Beneath my furcap and sheepskin
Gloves. And I am hunting. Patient for
Prey, clutching my rifle, I think:
I love animals.

Toothpick dancing, hair flowing, 
I drive my sportscar. A half
Mile behind, the plastic of my meal
Rolling to a stop on the ashphault -
I grin at the radio. And I decelerate
Amongst the gridlock. Trapped within
The clogged artery of highway, I think:
I love the outdoors.

Walking by the homeless, chin raised,
I head for a boxing match. Briefly,
Eyes ablaze and watering, I cheer
For my troops - for clips of war 
Telecast in a store window. And I
Lower my gaze to the sidewalk before
Strangers. Frowning at an obvious 
Immigrant, I think:
I love my fellow man.
I love my fellow man.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Quiet Admiration

There is.

there is a quiet admiration not for art 
not for composure, nor valor or beauty or cause.

There is.

there is a calm envy for all things shiny 
for all that costs and that spins, that
flashes, whistles and tastes;

that appears and disappears within 20
seconds 
that demands your attention in a purely
unpure way, portrayed and paraded all day,

just for your quiet admiration.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

A Grim Slice of Rhetoric Politic-Pie

Be careful, Acirema
torrential are the rains
that befall your treeless soil.

Be careful, Acirema
denial is a river that runs deep
unfathomable the depths of your flooded streams.

Be careful, Acirema
what gloom, your squandered potential
retain from times wasted your dwindling remnants of era.

Be careful, Acirema
of your copious memorials, in their heaps
your decrepit utopia craves no more.

Be careful, Acirema
shelve your inner warrior
snarling and catalogued, let it collect dust.

Be careful, Acirema
your prized infinity may conclude
should your grudging manner made an infinite.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Evening Programming

commercials for cellphones
commercials for lipsticks
commercials for fragrance
commercial for a gas company
commercial for a golf club
for a car
for shoes
commercial for a cellphone
commercials for painkillers
commercails for a gun
commercial for the lottery
commercials about my happiness
commercials about my life
about my family, your family
what they are wearing
commercial for cuts of meat
commercial for the bread around it
commercial about the future
revolutionize
easy-to-use
quick drying
low down payment
sexy
smart
smart
smart and stylish
stylish and sporty
sporty and sleek
commercial for a cellphone
commercials tell you what's new
commercials about commercials
driving is the new walking
sex is the new talking
eating is the new driving
is the new italian suit
is the new fixed mortgage rate
is the new dual-action cleansing
commercials are the new
all-natural cure
all inclusive round trip
commercials for the middle class
chocolate covered
you deserve this
do yourself this favour
you are a hero you are a saint
a martyr and a legend
commercials know the real you
commercials for god
what cellphone did god buy
what air-freshener
virgin commercials
whore commercials
punch you in the face commercials
scream myself hoarse commercials
commercial fuzz on a screen
commercial memories in my head commercials
go outside for a walk and look 
up at a billboard commercials
my house commercials
my shirt and milk
and wife and dog
my speech my smell
my dead grandfather
my unborn daughter
swallow the new commercial
around the corner
colourful utopian euphoric
perfect essential
tennis shoe I would die for
commercials with two legs and a sense of irony
money cancer
money tumour in my
camera-friendly soul
I need it
contagious all-new commercials
jump on the bandwagon
take the ride 
commercial me purple 
multipurpose horses!!t into diamonds.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Evolution

Prophet of my profits,
put your legs in the stirrups
force me out of you, shrieking
dripping of drug, reeking
immaculately dressed
adulterous, childish
a little worse for wear,
a bastard of metaphor.

Heir of my errs,
cast a neurotic prosthesis atop the saddle
trample all bards, those pleading
laden with morose and fleeting
lousy with expression
hopeful, hopeless
all my eggs in one basket,
all breathless from orphans.

President ill of precedent,
flirt your hand to the holster
load the chamber, saluting
empty the casings, alluding
rife with self-assurance
bootlicking, apple-polishing
what goes around comes around
what shall us servile accept?

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

For Rent

there is no house of God.
but there is a single bedroom apartment of God.
televangelists asleep on the floor
the convent too, dozes -
their manic addresses bring slumber,
wearing pious housecoats
and their belief on their sleeves.
"no girls allowed," said in muttered acclaim
in plumes of verbal smoke, billowing
from loyalty, from unconscious tongues of chimney.
when they rise, rent must be paid.
bi-weekly in assembly,
payments of obedience; collected in baskets
passed from choirboy to choirboy with little question -
here there is no tolerance for question.
no drops of leeway beneath the leaking ceiling.
should other religions come knocking, the door is locked.
inside sneering outwardly,
narrowly, through a peephole
the occupants brimming with superiority.
clutching rosary beads, they sing their own tune
and fear and consider the landLord - He's vengeful.
He promises things, in His twisted sense of humour
and in the single bedroom apartment of God,
the tenants are terrified.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Embrace the Injection

have you ever thought
from in keeping alive all kills you.
us luxurious in circumstances, lot & worth
revile that with which our resources unearth.

you can smell it blindly;
the machinery is there. encompassing.
your blind in the metallic cancerous sheen.
jam, oh odious gears of the human machine.

have you ever thought
in the dying, wrench thrown,
one withdraws unshackled and alive.
else oblivious billions our oblivion derives.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Cessation of Existance

What defines flow
to coffin from womb

am I a shell -
a cloak shrouding neon

or am I
an oyster 
devoid of pearl,
simply meat, drifting
between rock
and coral -

no divinity but squal for the sun.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

Sweet and Sour

Rigid, sitting in a dimly lit stool. 
a thick hazy fog lingers and circles
hundreds of bodies. barely visible as they 
gyrate and mingle
in a mess of frenzy.
the ominous thump of the deepest bass
repeating, repeating.

coming, leaving, repeating again.

fueling the crazed thrusts, 
keeping time
with the wild sexual pendulum of youth.
bitter ale in hand, I decend into the street.
the cobblestones seem sweet and sour underneath.
the bottle defies itself, 
floating before meeting its oblivion.

suddenly, anywhere but here seems too far.

and then the horizon wins again, undefeated. 
the wind - I can hear a muffled wave of sound.
and as I emerge once again at my shady perch,
slumping into myself, 
it is as if I had never left.
bodies tangle in abandon -
rythmic in their sex, late into the night.

Details | Matthew Dunphy Poem

The Jovial Flight of the Day To Day

I woke up this morning.
poured a cup of coffee.
but it was bitter -
more like wine than coffee.
but if there's nothing wrong with the coffee,
there must be something wrong with me.

I got dressed
and went to the store.
but it was bitterly cold.
more like january than june.
but if the weather isn't wrong,
there must be something wrong with me.

I bought from a list.
I got some cigerettes
but they were awfully expensive. 
more like coke than smokes.
but if the price tag isn't wrong,
there must be something wrong with me.

Then my eyes hurt.
and i took off my glasses.
but things became crystal.
more sharp than hazy
but if there's nothing wrong with my glasses,
there must be something wrong me.

I ran back home
communed with television.
but it was drivel, lunacy
more like circus than theatre.
but if there's nothing wrong with television,
there must be something wrong with me.

I heard yelling next door
a crash, something fell.
but it sounded violent
more like anger than resolve.
but if there's nothing wrong with my neighbours,
there must be something wrong with me.

I'm tired now.
eyelids heavy, low like blinds
but alert, i feel uneasy.
more of a disgust than a peace.
but if there's nothing wrong with the world,
then there must be something wrong with me.