Fragments of Yesterday…


Fragments of Yesterday

In the dusty corners of yesterday are

buried fragments of humanity, ancient

history, forgotten mothers, fathers,

children, good, evil, and beyond death

a veiled ambiguous world that is still a


A people that after millions of years of

evolution, cannot see the reality of it all;

the human race learns nothing they

endlessly continue their destructive


Blood drenched roads from barbarity to

civilization measured by the futility of the

enlightened, and those sacrificed are


As humans, we judge others by our own

beliefs, we recoil, we threaten, we kill, and

the blood of virtue we continue to


Millions of years from now when barren land

reaches as far as the eyes can see; will the

dusty corners of yesterday show fragments of

how we destroyed humanity, will the veiled

curtain of death no longer be a mystery.


Author: Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

Artist/Writer of Fiction, Poetry, Prose and Thoughts, Opinions Born in Alabama to a Native American (Chickasaw) father and an emotionally absent mother since the Author's birth, raised by her father, her Native American great-grandmother and an African-American woman whom were all grand storytellers. As early as four years old she was roaming the countryside around her home alone or with her father; and at night she sat at the feet of these strong-minded individuals listening to the stories of their lives. Summers she lived with her fathers' sister in Birmingham, Alabama; it was that she would discover a library, and mingle with her aunt's circle of friends that included local writers, artist, and politicians. A cabin deep within the Black Warrior Forest was her playground on the weekends. Her aunt encouraged her imagination by introducing her to journaling, which she filled with stories over the summer. Planted was the desire to write, a seedling waiting to spurt from the warm southern heart of a child. Her love of art and painting came through the teachings of a grammar school teacher which she pursues when the well of words dry up when writing. Throughout the years along with her father, great-great-grandmother, and her beloved Aunt Francis, other influences were her high school English teacher Mrs. S. Odom, writers Faulkner, Capote, Fitzgerald, and Harper Lee. Later in life, she discovered the warm and comic writing of Grace Paley. The vivid poetry of William Carlos Williams; the strong poetry of Phyllis McGinley, and the world's most exciting women, Maya Angelou are some of the poets at the top of her list. Nonetheless, with adulthood, the desire to write buried itself deep within, the dream wilted but did not die. It laid dormant, gaining experiences all written in hidden journals. These experiences, the contents of these journals became short stories and poetry reading to share with the world. She writes of many life experiences in poetry format; questioning everything from Mother Nature to God...the poetry is raw and may not be understood by all. Yet, it comes from deep within and reads of truth within her soul. The harshness that shrouded her life would cause her to withdraw from most of the world; it fills the pages of her writing, the heartache, the abuse, and the denial her mother frankly portrayed. Today, she enjoys her children, grand and great grandchildren, her four-legged companion Mason, they live in Southern Wisconsin...far from her southern roots; however she continues to write and paint daily. Ann has published in Kindle eBooks and paperbacks at Book #1 Echoing Images from the Soul 2012 Book #2 Beyond the Voices 2012 Book #3 Reflections of Poetry 2013 Book #4 Honeysuckle Memories 2013 Book #5 Sachets of Poetry on Adoration, Anger, Asylums and Aspirations 2014 Book #6 My Journey into Art 2014 Book #7 Asterial Thoughts

8 thoughts on “Fragments of Yesterday…”

  1. Thanks for the follow, an stopping by to have a read…

    Gift to Nature

    As the vail of yesterday
    follows the wind.
    Hundred dollar bills
    cover the ground
    as if gone astray!

    Aged buildings
    spread across
    the now
    forgotten ground.
    Society along
    within humanity
    heading hellbound..

    Their blood
    filled virtues,
    a karma debt
    those long past
    murderous attempts
    an wronged

    a loving gift
    nature could’ve
    done without!



Comments are closed.