Alisdaire

[Alisdaire]

<a name="#seventy six">The Fairgrounds of us</a>

Once upon a whisper
the words played their carousel
round and round between us
In glee and joyful tone
We entered the fairytales
and danced their jig of life
laughter and sweet frolic
the Ferris wheel of minds
We talked in old stories
built dreams upon which to fly
circled our boundaries
Sailed into the sigh.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#seventy seven">Dead Traditions</a>

Blood! That root of life
drips downward from the tortured soul
to crust red the scented mothers soil
staining forever to histories folder.

It was long ago
across wayward sky's and dampened dreams
where the Idols of time weighed past the visions
and dead men failed to tell their tales
for haunting illusions that bound their souls.
I heard there the screams that forever arose
into the depths of constrictive form
that forever lies to the petty junctions
of all thats illuminating and true.
A scourge that filled the horizons
wiping clear the Earthly stubbles of rotten carcases
singing their enchanted cries to wards the Heavens
All for the glory, the Madonna's child.
Where books classed heretic were burnt and torn
and wise words of antiquity labeled corrupt
What untimely Saint was washed away?
What demonic faith has thus inspired
uplifted the mortal clay to their idyllic damnation
and cried into the eternal gulf of the abyss.

What more evils could this cult commit
that thousands upon thousands of wasted lives
faced the archaic dream of tortures embrace
to lift their torn voices heaven bound and cry
"Where are you, my Lord",
To awaken to another day of heated pain
broken bones and evils grins....till
relentless in the offering pools of their blood
they admit the crime and touch the final breath.

We have come far in our trails of passage
we have seen and still do the roots of mans carnage
when a simple thought glimmers too bright
and demented the mind to unrealized truth.
Death is the only victor, the only salvation
to the silent screams that hover our world.
Between these I ask one simple question
where are you, where am I upon these pages
and where shall we stand in the morrows dream
when again they rise, to their dead traditions.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#seventy eight"> Honeysuckle Candlesticks </a>

(something Daft lol)

I dream in fields of apple blossom tints
that fall softly upon the fluffy down filled pillows
where sleep bids the long serenade of lavish hues
speckled velvet covered sky's and satin stars
Here in this cozy radiant flow
the crackling wood caresses the form
and the soft ember glows illuminates the silent shades
that dance upon the fabric and corrugated fields of thought.
Here between me, the sea rushes in warm currents that dance
like a lovers hands upon my form, inviting , teasing.
The sun like a great ball, with the bluest eyes
and a smile that crackles the insides out
draws from my form every last dew of essence
till almost faded, I sigh.
Heaven awakens me into her wide armed splendor
each twinkling star a vibrating candy
catching these eyes and tempting the hunger
of candy floss snow men and icicle pies.
What a wonder of childhood fancy
that every now and then still sweeps in and dances my thoughts
Only, mostly now,
My dreams tend more to wards the intoxicating tender forms
of thighs that glisten and breasts that firmly cry.
to the awkward awareness of dense desires
and of the fruit that never fully satisfies
Always leaving one, open to just one more bite,taste and joy.
In truth its hard to say that which more inspires, or
which one holds the greatest treasure
for I find myself at times still longing those innocent days
of Honeysuckle candle sticks and pumpkin pie.

Alisdaire
O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#seventy nine"> Silence </a>


Here in these threads of fallen tales
drifts the darkness that binds
covers and dissolves the succulent thought,
To naught.
Delve into the spheres of chaotic embrace
where tired treasures imbue the night
to the total flat line equation .
A whisper of parting breath releases
into the chilled room the past glories
the diluted dreams till vanquished,
Silence.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty"> Behold - War </a>

The Blood gathers and runs stale
in the vacuum all is drained dry of life
empty the carcases sculpture the scene
laying deaths impressions, blatant.
I hear between the words they speak
parables of worn tales and indignant boasts
and in the fortitude of their convictions
they paint the field of crimson hue.
Tears fall empty, worn tormented dreams
mingle to the exasperated breath and hover
for but a moment then-
gone to the fixed stare embrace
the wayward skeleton pays its final toll
To the wings of horror and sad demise
the words a child shall no longer sing
but hovering ever upon the iniquity of man
It shall cry," Behold-War!"

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty one"> Kristin! My Lass. </a>

What jewel, knighted crest
imbued the horizons and cast its hues
out across the vivid expanse
into the poetic dream of you.
I gather lass in subtle form
the crowning glories that the day it brings
Treasures of far distant shores
That here I find my welcome.
It's to the words that flowed
like the fluttering wings of dove
upon those regions of my mind
and begged me answer you.
So here before you Kristin,
but this a humble poet
with words that flow easy and free
to caress close your thoughts
and to drive them within those chambers
where ever there lingers the gratitude.
Let me bow to the four corners
raise my standard ever to you
and give from my heart to yours
but one extra beat, one eternal sigh.
May the nights long serenade
fill your sweetened dreams
to the hushed meadows of faded bards
and longing lover's embraces.
And I, I have made my way
for in all I do, I truly know
that but one saw and heard
the silent haunting cry, of my word.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty two"> Passion Of the Beating Soul </a>

The air tis heavy and deep
I feel the breath, sense its warmth
that encompasses around my archaic form
drifting me to bygone days
filling me to youths powerful song.

Oh liberated joy that dances
upon the nectar of relinquished words
to gather ever those soft petaled hands
and sparkling smiles, that awaken
and sing of the love that flows.

Sweet e'er sweet
that now I again can taste
long for and want again those precious
undying eternal moments
resting within the shape of her.

Who gathers best
or ever forgets those tender dreams
where fancy flies, touches the sky's
and leaves one but helpless
To the passion of the beating Soul.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty three"> Words Of You </a>

Can another truly embrace
what little words fly humbly by
and in the sway of the promises held
convey the depths of any mortal heart.
I ponder deeply the thoughts that flow
every ebb of those mental inner tides,
To question just how close two can truly be
and just how one, a love may become.
I have seen the couples stray
in midnight walks that bore the moon,
or head to head watching the blazing setting sun
As if, there was only this eternal moment to life.
So when I utter "I Love you."
Do those words truly tell you my depth
do they raise in the mornings embers
brighter than any heavenly Sun,
Can you hear the song of longing
that from this raging heart dost cry
or understand that in your absence
I am lost to the world by far.
When I close too these sockets
do you see the visions that fill my space
Images so softly textured, graced
to the soft scents of your flesh.
And,
Alas the greatest pain that can cross ones soul
to be fully unable to express it all
but lost within the play of lines
between all the verbs and nouns
lays simply one last word - none.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty four"> 'Twas Mingled All </a>

When all the night awakens too
that inward cry, that silent hue
Do I shake it off, turn and flee
or stand the ground between the I and me.
Many 's the lonely watchful hour
that joins the memories bright and sour
to turn ones mind into far gone fields
Dreaming the reality that illusion yields
Better the Twain fold visions pressed
in passions flower embedded dressed
those moment cries, the distant call
the love engulfed, the apples fall
atween these hemispheres of thought
imprisoned to what love had caught
Drowning deep in self filled pools
the bitterness, self modeled tools
a barrier atween the heart and mind
this wall, well built no end can find.
But here I am, there he be
two incomplete beings inside I see
driven both to the brink's of life
with loves sweet passions and angers strife.
Lo! That e'er I e'er thought to be
'twas mingled all, now so free.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty five"> A Word </a>

You speak in soft embrace
words splatter upon me
dress me, embraced me
and yet I know the truth
the little fluttering tones tell
those inconsistencies of you
short tailed lines
un-embracable
I know, that's the point
I know from every uttered word
each fluttering eye lid
every cradled smile
a lie.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty six"> That Jeweled Emotion </a>

This be it,
may the historical fact acknowledge
disengage those proverbial intonations
and leave me humming upon some great abyss
restricted form dismantled, liberated now I call
into the paradoxical liberation's of phantomed discourse
all that once I held sacred.
Christ, It's not that we die,
that we give so freely the wanting release
that fades so fast within each mortal soul
'tis the constant birth of romantic love.
How sweetly, Aye! we play it
every little rubic cube of dream
till in all reality we lose it
and ranting in inconsistent fears we place
all but everything afore it.
Am I dreamer, Aye! By words and thought I be
to dream every scented avenue of promise
ne'er to fade as the midday sun
but rather like some distant memory
these words, aye they may cipher through
where by images or symbols crafted
shall become but the minds sweet due.
Don't rush away e'er so fast my love
these words that gather nectars fancy drops
hold form to the eternal dream and belief
that Love 'tis eternal, that my breath e'er shall carry you
into that final oblivion of death and there, you shall see
shall know, the silent moments wake, 'tis e'er but even here a vision of you.

Now some call love a fairy tale,
A vision that glimmers and fades sae fast
and some shall tell you love gathers
but weakens to the breath of life.
Then I say, they never truly loved
nor glance upon sheer perfection's rays
no other hope nor fancied cry
destines the world so true
as that of love, My heart of you.
Foolish men walk the tight ropes
and more the women grasp hold
as if all vibrates on this constant now
while between the love it fades
That's not my destiny, nor 'tis my dream
For my love shall haunt the very dwellings
Its beat shall pound the heavens floor
and by God and all that's true
Deaths deepest shackles can ne'er bind
what for this love and heart of mine
cried out before breath and birth and time
And found her and drew her nigh
there 'tis the mystery my friends, of love
that jeweled emotion that fills us all
That fading glimmer within a million hearts
that prized jewel for the few.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty seven"> Twinkling Eyes and Lullabies </a>

The twinkling eyes, The lullabies
The silent words that outward fly's
The me and you, between us two
the echoed thoughts of only you.

How we'd dance, in our romance
the shared promise of but a glance
a time so bright and full of light
that said everything was just right.

A Fairytale, two hearts at sail
We journey loves sweet silky vale
A tender kiss, a moments bliss
and this world we'll never miss.

The moons glow, shines on below
where our love can only know
the passion beat, the heated seat
where our bodies atween do meet.

We devour, O' passions flower
beneath the oaks scented bower
Our words inspire, loves deep fire
we lay to rest our hearts desire.


Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty eight"> What Little Fragments are left ? </a>

I think I know
That sudden hush
that abides and draws like a helpless form
upon shady half lite walls
and crumbles down without a sound.
What a desolate moment
To see and look upon a face
that radiantly birthed your dreams
and find nothing, just empty pages.
Words exchanged, nothing said
a continuum of emptiness
that fills nothing save the space between.
Eyes that no longer hold any trace
eagerly seeking another distraction
some based reality to make the moment whole.
So!
What little fragments are left?

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#eighty nine"> Desolate Road </a>

Here in this desert
little blooms
parched to the existence
little ever roams.
The western winds here do not grace
with tingling air or icy dew
But ravaged by the midday sun
the deserts breath hot upon the dunes
mingles over some ancient ruins
where people that once gathered here
lived a life and breed a world
much alike the thoughts that filled
honey scented, sacred jewels
but cast adrift upon loves vast sea
faded fast, the dieing plea,
But I find myself often where
the mornings wings speed no more
but lay helpless upon the sand
till covered and gone another dream.

I hear the nightingales song afresh
ahh! but from memories well inborn fields
where the sky so blue flickers its melody
and casts down deep the dreams of youth,
I sit upon my lonely dune
fair angled at the horizon
I watch that globe descend the sky
and nights chill against my back
what little paraphrase can here instill
another thought or vision beyond
I lay back into my prism, e'er my abode
and accept the desolate road.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#ninety"> In Whatever Words </a>

In whatever words
that ever could dare express
Humble me too,
draw out the breath of life
and there but find within the air
a simple name engraved.
Now the heart can be a dreamer
and stranger too the mind
But its the words that draw deeper to
the essence of the Soul.
I bid time my adieus
for her faded cloak no longer binds
when I have such life around
to fill every deeply tossed vision
and grace the moment with but you.
I don't dance in a flamboyant move
but rather waltz the beat of you
till the midnight air engulfs
Holds all silent in humble embrace
and cries sweetly as the lark of the morn
the form that has thus engulfed me,
drawn me to and made whole.
One may talk of love
its the greatest folly,
for there's more, much deeper
where hearts cannot parade
but lay helpless to the archaic winds
that chime the eternal embers
the birthing breaths promise
that I knew I found in you.
They say I'm a romantic
I laugh at their thoughts
for romance holds not the glimmer
nor can straddled father Times mocking hands
but what I have very few see
That in every little particle
Each soul bursting eye
the eternal want of union
A hunger for the souls other half
There is no greater love song
no bardic way that governs
Only what I have found in you
and what you've seen in me.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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[Alisdaire]

<a name="#ninety one"> Fettered Compounds </a>

My voice cries deep the pools
by which rides and drifts deep upon
those eternal rhythms and sacred paths
between me and this my God.
How many tainted images of myself portrayed
that faded upon the alter of my ethereal form
and died the silent death of years
in robes of his constant watch.

So many teachers willing to give
that filled this tabernacle to streams of brilliant rays
till full and understanding the primal point
This voice changed and cried
these internal spheres of conscious mind
archetypal entities and well fashioned hues
donating my place, a position, a field
where but a humble prayer may free my soul.

O the one that once graced my ears
filled my turmoil to the free space between
and allowed my eyes to see, my heart to feel
ever but my true destiny.
Humbled, my words of thanks seem faint
for all that my eyes and mind has glimpsed
but in truth, I wasn't worthy of the cause
and faded into the discourse of words.

I remember well that dark, dark tomb
that resided where ever my faded form did roam
and I still hear those demonic cries
that once filled a foolish and blinded man
leaving me empty, alone, fool hardy
and untouched by loves tender ray.

But once in a while I found too
This lost bygone heart cried from its depths
and some where you heard and allowed light its passage
till filled through I danced the joy of you
and liberated from my deceitful ways
I fell again upon the ground, crying, needing,
that a prayer can fill an outward shell
and illuminating it give it passage
till there before the torn fabric of time
I once again awakened
Released from my fettered compounds.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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