Mark Murphy (British Working Class Poetry)

Mark A. Murphy is a neurodivergent, working class writer, currently surviving marginalisation in the UK. A three time Pushcart Nominee, he has been published in 18 countries. His ninth collection, ‘Ontologistics Of A Time Traveller,’ is scheduled for publication at the end of the summer. He is the editor of online poetry journal, POETiCA REViEW.


Last Straws


If revolutions take place, according to certain laws,

can we take the Spartacus revolt,

which almost toppled the Roman Empire,

as the stuff of dreams.


If we take the peasant’s revolt of 1381

against Richard the Good,

as the stuff of imagination, can we take hope,

which lives and moves by revolution

as the stuff of contradictions.


If we take the beheading of Charles I,

and Louis XVI,

or the shooting of the Tsar

and his family

as the stuff of revolution…


Is it safe to say, despotism is the victim of hope?


And if hope is emotion, and emotion is the enemy

of facts, can we take solace

in the Gigantes revolt against the gods?

Dare we anticipate the odds

in our favour?

which ended the Ancien Régime



Invisible Woman


If the laws of patriarchy postulate

public and private

paternalism, which is used as a beating stick

to usurp freewill.


Can we assume a woman’s proper place

at dinner, is to serve

the man of the house first,

before tucking into the Sunday veal

she spent all night preparing?


If mother’s only station is to act

as decoration

for daddy’s business partners,

might we crack the whip, drive the sisters off

to another cocktail party,

to restrict their agency, strictly

for their own good?


Is it any wonder men feel superior

when capital insists (ass over tit) on man
for man, to balance the books,

for divide and rule,

and primitive accumulation.

Tendering exchange value and control

for the root of all gender-based




Notes On A Clay Pigeon


To shoot a clay pigeon, one must first procure

the silver Beretta, which is only a metaphor

for taking advantage of your class

position. A fancy way of saying, you were born

with a silver spoon in your gob.

An English gentleman that only takes

advantage of those less fortunate, on his way

up the greasy pole, which is just

another way to dodge bullets. To eat all,

sup all, and pay nowt. The original sportsman

who has shot everything that walks, crawls or flies

at one time or another. A man who knows

the value of life. When it comes

down to the trap shoot, you simply can’t cheat

time. And all the money in the Bank

of England, won’t save you from the war

on the poor. When your 686 Sporter backfires

in your face, and the poor in themselves

become a class for themselves.

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