Sheila E. Murphy
Incessant Seeds

Paperback Edition
ISBN 1-886350-67-1
6 by 9, perfect bound
88 pages,

Written in a luxurious squared sonnet form as requested, this book of poems by Sheila E. Murphy gives insight into her versatility within a boundary while not obscuring her intent and content for form's sake. A wonderful book, I do hope you have a chance to appreciate a copy.
--David Baratier

From the Author's Introduction:

Incessant Seeds can be viewed as both the yield and record of a process that involves working in units comprised of 14-syllable lines and 14 lines. Such a rule-based flow has the capacity of allowing a wide range of subject areas, perspectives, concerns, and swatches of language equivalent to musical phrases. I followed a similar approach when writing an earlier volume Teth, published by Chax Press, slightly more than a decade before composing Incessant Seeds in 2001. I found that rule-based composition leads the mind to find and gather like-sounding, like-shaped arrangements of words or syllables. It became clear that the more I used the determined method, the more in sync I became with the vibratory pattern inherent in the rule itself, an ironically liberating practice.

During a series of online conversations, David Baratier mentioned the prospect of my working in 14-syllable lines. I used the 14-line unit, thereby discovering Incessant Seeds. While this approach is not my exclusive way of creating, I especially value its heuristic properties.

Sheila E. Murphy

-------Two examples from the collection-------------

Incessant seeds defray the cost of whittling various

Diameters transisting to the cause-effect domain

Named after promissory notary republique, norms

Listed in the books kept under wraps, lacking see-through

Properties, recall the scent of braeburn appliqué,

The perfume of the fresh hint of reclusive purgatoire,

Eliminating the obligatory visits to

Bridge club and band practice, meetings of the art league, scout meets,

Gymnastic sieges of untidy repetitions, floor

Routines, routine as indoor-outdoor carpet planted on

Innocent flooring everyone is apt to trot across,

En route to mediocrity, that stains otherwise fresh

Or even revealing lives, that tap discovery mined

For precious occupations twilled within opaque desire


Gem noise altercates with understanding minus troops and

Shuttlecocks arranged to disable what at one time worked

According to our liking but no longer functions out of

Tone-deaf manicures, that last as long as prodding torches,

Fast asleep recliner chair deciduous and lanky

Trees on top of trees, birds respiting the way we used to

In our leisure, listen to them on the line, worthy of

Binoculars, vivid and strange and parsed from scratch perhaps

Accustomed as we were to beauty on its own career,

Reconnaissance or martyrdom perhaps this much a plea

For going to work, the reason for existence, rounded

To a surface pieced together from the fragments known,

Interrogation yields little more than the projection

Of a flower, effectively what is left of shadow