Alisdaire

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Alisdaire
Clearwater Poet
Posts: 131
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The Majestic

Post by Alisdaire » Thu Jul 10, 2003 3:23 pm

<a name="#ninety two"> The majestic </a>

Before the dawn I went
found my self the perfect seat
rooted to the spot, I breathed deep
and awaited the moment
that crisp splendor
that shattering vestige of life.

The seas salty air
configured itself to my breath
the roaring vibratory waves
filled to their caps danced
and released their breath upon me.

Suddenly, like a raging canvas
the horizon cracked and brilliance
peeked through in streaming rays
that arose from the sea and scratched heavens floor
Clouds changed their hues and dressed
in vibrant reds and oranges,
filling their scarlet dreams to him, this God.

Gold rushes the corners
massive strokes fill the skies
and I lay back intoxicated, enhanced
no poetic words can match this beauty
nor artist canvas paint the glory filled splendor
that sends and fills my soul, my heart
to the tingles that burst and run
the fire that rages deep and proud within
and all I can think is "My God"!

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Alisdaire
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O' This land

Post by Alisdaire » Fri Jul 11, 2003 9:30 pm

<a name="#ninety three"> O' This land </a>

I look around me
I view these fields of mine
this land, that calls forth from the soil
that breath, that my father's fathers drew and held.
I know the silent thoughts that fill here
that roams the screaming gale
and rests upon each brae and dale
this land, My land bleeds with the blood
of highland promise and mystic sight.
A land the Gods made theirs
and sanctified my ancestors hands to till
to nourish, bring forth and build,
Where generations of form here abides
till the last day's rays falls upon eternity.
These mighty stones 'tis the back bone
each burn that crosses, fills
are but the veins that directs my blood
and allow it it's passage through time
Behold my sacred mother,
you that have born e'er so many sons and daughters
I am bound to you as no words call retell
I am as you, One with my clan
and from our drudging hands and bent backs
we have gathered your scented flowers
and managed these lands for you.
Blessed sons, warming mothers
hear the silent echo of her call
that ever calls her children home
to the sacred seat of our souls.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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Alisdaire
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The Orb

Post by Alisdaire » Fri Jul 11, 2003 11:58 pm

<a name="#ninety four"> The Orb </a>

Behold this orb
this bubble of thought
that glimmers across the neon arbors
and rest plainly by your side.
Look deep into its ethricial form
capture but simple images
and here a future builds untold
all the structures of every morrow.
I see myself there looking out
one half glazed image beholds it's other
reflective inconsideration's that dance and fade
and reverberate to the hidden side.
Where within one glimpse the horrors unfold
strangulated falls limpness upon the form
Here, within these ice cold eyes bears witness
the moments faded vision
the helpless wish, tries but to echo on
but frozen to its harbored stage
dies the thousand deaths every moment brings
till lost within the orbs hidden form
captured under the globes weight
it falls humbly silent.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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Alisdaire
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Bid It Rest

Post by Alisdaire » Sun Jul 13, 2003 10:49 pm

<a name="#ninety five"> Bid It Rest </a>

The tear
how it falls
tracing upon
textured skin,
flowing
gently, the wounded pain.

But relief
finds no such form
just mangled
twisted
sojourning sorrow.

Can I bid it rest!
None!
for it gathers here
eats slowly
devours
engulfs
Till but skeleton left
My soul all gone.

Alisdaire O''Caoimph

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Alisdaire
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The Hush

Post by Alisdaire » Thu Jul 24, 2003 8:16 am

<a name="#ninety six"> The Hush </a>

There is a little hush that gathers
It glimmers silently seeking its expression
Till one day its bright hue is cast
and upon vibrant plains it illuminates the whole.
I have sat here often, Listening to its beg
that silent scream of release unbound
that would leap outward, flying
till structured to the will the constant desire
It finds its soft petaled heart and rests
Contented for once, fully alive
to beat there within you.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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Alisdaire
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Farewell Art O'Caoimh

Post by Alisdaire » Thu Jul 24, 2003 8:18 am

<a name="#ninety seven"> Farewell Art O'Caoimh </a>

Oh torrid breath that such
to speak loves tender ways
I bide farewell, The heart of me
that last morning, that fairest dream.
I will fade into the pages e'er O' which I wrote
and no more, no more, The pen shall form
those words and lines that filled and pleased.

Such tis the last compromise
that falls downward and dies
into all the characteristics of form
and finds only the bleakest dream.
I suppose fate bides me rest
to write no more of fabled dreams
rather to lay softly that feathered pen
into the mind from which it sprang.

Farewell you words that once engulfed
and danced upon my heart so,
to freedom I bide you go
ne'er again confined to form
this poet lays your ways to rest.
for I was a fool to trust my heart
to believe this mind could capture true
that which flew and caught my soul
and danced it's merry hue.

But alas dear friends fate tis an evil worker
that crafts its form within ones soul
and binds forever.
Mere mortal souls, we are but few
and saddened to the mellow tongue
we long the moments silent song
that shall drift e'er and cover.

Till all is written, all is said
the final letter pressed and sealed
My fingers drift, fade and fall
my heart all dried, dead and gone.
No more, No more,
this be the rest of the poet O'Caoimh.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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Alisdaire
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Part One

Post by Alisdaire » Sat Jul 26, 2003 1:01 am

<a name="#ninety eight"> A Parable of Us </a>

It skirts around the room
on tiptoed rushing's
Flashes past e'er so fast
that the mind cant hold to the image
or grasp but for a second till gone.
Happens all the bloody time it seems
faster and faster along with my years
Till vanishing somewhere over head
fades into the back ground drop of time.
I still have them, those little flicks
that glitter out of the corner of my eyes
Each - Ballerinas in their graceful twirls
that elevate the dance of mind
Till swan lake too seems ever so evasive and fades
Into the brilliant colored tapestry
papered upon those limestone corridors of faith
and whitewashed in the aroma of summer gardens
and pine covered glades.
Its here, within the framework of this mind
ever reconstructing its towering forms
or upon fresh grounds breaking anew.
Tumbling the old towers,
washing fresh the plains,
the fantasy abridged with realistic charm
that sings like a chorus upon the Abyss
these fleeting dreams of yesterdays gifts
Memories, That float upon and dance
To fast often to really recapture
But what is there of you, me and us
the parable of of our life,
the story of life.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#ninety nine"> Delerium </a>

There was a cry one November day
that fluttered upon the atmosphere
and danced current upon current up
raced with the torrid winds of the north
and froze itself in the icy breath of time.
I remember that day my voice echoed
empty caverns of thought personified my being
and despair grabbed me and clutched so tight
that the pressure throbbed harder than my heart.
Somewhere in my lost horizon I left myself behind
Looking into the desolated images of the morrow
all perception died to time and drew fast upon
every beat of the heart, tear of the eye
Till gone into the vacuum, sucked deep into the belly
I wandered the helpless facade of dead men's dreams.
Here in this everlasting darkness
I fall passionless upon unfertile soil
This flesh slowly eaten, devoured from within
to that diseased mind that drains the beauty of life
leaving all empty to the cold clay
the wooden presses of the coffins abode.
Today I walk in the aura of its fields
enveloped within its faded structures, its ruins,
to the ever gone memories of yesterdays sweet dreams
Now only strangers look at me, touch me, hold me,
and who are they to take my mind.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred"> A Little Whisper </a>

A little whisper!
Oh how it trickles in
like a stream crystal clear and rolling
refreshing, Tis all that I hear.
I hear you,
Vibrating deep within heart and Soul
that summoning conviction that twirls
and invigorates again and again
Till wanting, My thoughts e'er gather and
Turn to you.
Yes! I know well the time
my departed moment has pressed dry,
till soon the grape tis rotten
and the vine withered, almost gone.
I left that spring morn
with the dreams of a thousand blessings
traveled the curved and anxious roads
the steep incline and sudden pauses.
The earth rotates its axis
with me twirling in unconventional oblivion
Till hushed by the untimely silence
Your whisper echoes through.
It's been long my love,
by far too long,
That I have walked the scented gardens
or danced with the joy of twilights hue with you,
and long the days have narrowed from
your images, Yet they glistened through.
But my heart,
This beating passion
In all truth has all but talked with you
In lingering moments and fancy held dreams
Was it not You, I followed too?
Who understands best the beat
that your images crafts upon us all
My sweet darling, dreams e'er but dance of you
till the breaking of the Dawn.
O'Scotia, This my eternal soul
how long I've evaded your form
distant yet as near as any breath
you haunt my every dwelling.
I promised you I would return
To where my feet learned their ways
and this heart by and through you stands
the remainder of my days.
Of virgin hood, womanhood,
how sweet your chalice of love
Drawing the Scot where e'er he stands,
back unto your sacred plot.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred one"> Geancannach </a>

( In Scots/Irish mythology Geancannach is a faery lover that haunts the dreams of women similiar to a Incubus)

Geancannach

You raise me, within your dreams
Calling to the aether's of time
Haunting my abode of eternal symmetry
Till harkening to those calls I come.

The winds carry me like wild charging stallions
Riding upon the breath of lavender's blending scent
To rest upon the post of your abode
watching you dream your dreams in bed.

It is here My cries summon the world
that sweetest fantasy that lingers e'er with you soul
I drive upon those liquid forms my shape
and enter your dream with you.
-----------------------------------

Feel the warmth of my breath
that tickles softly the form of your neck
hear my voice, deep bass intoned
vibrate gently, lulling your thought to mine
And feel me gather your stature up
to carry to the setting sun your form
and there upon the peaks of my place
I rest you upon my throne.

I will not take you.....
I will leave you wanting and filled
till the desire flows out from your eyes
Till your form in anguish begs my touch.
And as you watch me deflower others
turning virgin thoughts e'er to me
you shall long my pressure and my scent
upon that form that here summoned me.
Enchantment fills my endowment
I watch as your eyes see me perform
and how the lust and constant desire
fills the needs that beat in you,
Dare you have me now?
While i take those dreams of me
and dance my solitary place of woe
to all that seek me here.
I see your hands touching, caressing
wanting them mine and more
for you hunger that eternal throbbing
that aching pain that swirls within
and you know unlike any mortal lover
I know all your wants and desires.
Oh but how I weave your fears with your pleasures
how I play upon even your wakened thought
Till you want no other lover
none but I can subdue your form
Take you to the breathless heaven
Wear you as my own flesh
and have you live my tempest reign of thought
Can you satisfy my desire?
Draw me within and make me cry
No mortal yet has set that flame
But I, Aye! How I ride these feminine dreams
How I draw you close and devour your heart
I eat you slowly, deliberate in all my ways
Till left haunted to my lips, you e'er but beg
another wanting touch,another Kiss.
I appear as that grandest knight, A prince
Aye! As a God upon mortal horizons
My form like bronze and setting sun
with legs firm, structured strong.
Virgin hearts melt to me
their innocent minds sing my words
and how with them the night moans to their sighs.
Then my lovers, more they are, but many
that I have romanced the bed songs of many nights
They still call me , want and need me
to satisfy where Husbands and lovers draw short.
For their dreams are my dreams,
their visions, Me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------

But I, I am forever lonely
lonely to the being I am
I am the haunt of natures calling
ever alluring , yet always bound
But for once a mortal breath
that to mine will ride the night
One I shall awaken too in my morning
in these Sidhe gatherings of Tir Na Og
and when I awaken, I so long to hear
A soft petaled voice say,My darling Geancannach.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred two"> Mexican Sun Burst </a>

Before the dawn
in the shadows of you
I lay to the simple peaceful tones
the rythumed breath
the moving form
the soft sighs of engulfed dreams.
Her skin, warm, inviting my touch
the garden fresh scents of her flesh
that captures my thoughts to drive to her
In never-ending escapdes of desire.
Slowly the sky awakens
casting the red warmth rays
that drift through window and paints
cascading colours upon a tan wall.
She murmers as she turns
Her breasts escape the sheets caress
and I looking upon her marveled form
Live a dream that besides me rests.
Her skin is e'er so soft
with the tiny goose bumps the air has brought
and whipspered upon her body;
Her coffee coloured skin, draped
between white sheets and sun rays
I draw in her fragrence
gently kiss her swollen lip
teaseing it just-until
her eyes open, with bright smiles
she softly laughs the tickled sensation
I hungry for her,draw fuller upon
till she in balance weighs my thoughts
and joins the momentum of this tender dream.
We dance the zestful tangle
searching hands and eager tongues
joyful glee and the moans metaphor
we climb the Heavens walls
enter the abyss of tangled dreams
till released and alive
we lay silent under the Mexican Sun burst.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred three"> The Mysteries She Bestows </a>

There is a vision
or is it just but a dream
that drifts e'er my way
and sings its profound depth to me.
Her hair like the Ravens wing
glistens beneath the mid days Sun
like strands of glittering rays
the beguiles my eyes.
Her olive skin, soft e'er to the touch
leaves one dangling atween the heavens and hell
for the want,the desire, that deep found need
to draw it within ones depth and continence.
I look upon her tender form
and sway to the beats my heart portrays
like Lilly wings that e'er but flutters
upon the moist midday air.
Fine she knows how to draw my smile
to awaken in my sadness the profound truth
that life is real, tis sweet and delicious
even if but for a moment,while my mind turns to her.
I hear her laughter, that swirls in and out
caressing my fancy drawing me to awaken
I sit and behold what Gods call perfection
her slender form, delicate style
the grace that fills her face.
She draws up against me
and like a fire smoldering for years
I rage to her fragrance, her touch
wanting no more than to gently embrace
to feel her eternal warmth invigorate
reaching down into the core of me
drawing out my very essence of being
and standing truly naked to the world
I glimmer in the radiance she bestows.
Such a thing never, never truly is
only in my mind do I dance my dream
and here with her, under the moons tender glow
I drink of her womanhood, the mysteries she bestows.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred four"> Unstructured Paraphrase </a>

I draw upon the foundations
of this form that I have so long called me
and sway within my own boundaries
of what I here perceive within and around.
Little foolish notions graze the sidelines
partakes of the indecisive morsels I left behind
and all of it neither separate nor foreign
but all minute miniatures of me.
Save myself?
I question the reality I face daily
the faded dreams that still linger close to the heart
but somehow lost to their own unfolding
fades into the Souls twilight.
How I remember!
Truly, I do,
Those particles that sparkled so bright
invaded my sleep and summoned my dreams
It was the little changes I was to make
Little boundaries I would surpass and walk on through
Till glimmering in my own shadow, the World would change.
I had the simple answers,
and in them all creation played forth its role
To perfection I might add,
Now I laugh at all that seemed so possible
amazed at the little complexities of life.
How could I know, indeed fathum
Journey the unstructured paraphrase of the Eternal
and leave it all-barren.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred five"> Gabriel </a>

Can you gather it
draw its essence deep within
and weave its threads of eternal blessings.
Such it is....
When the Moon's full bloom
casts her hew upon the landscape
and dances atween shadow and form
to intoxicate and welcome
Lover's and friends to her warmth.

The night sky
e'er so dark with the twinkling promises
Those wishes of lovers hearts,
I dream, I exist
amidst the milky way and Orion's belt
I weave in silent songs
the purity of fallen Sky's
and the sweetest promises of longing lips.

There are songs that fill my ears
that tingle deep my eternal dimensions
for lo, I hear the hearts tender rapture
upon the heavens floor,
And I weep in silent agreement
that mortal life tis so grand ,so rich.

How I long to be as they
two hearts that tender beat as one
and feel the intense majesty of each soft kiss
To know another as well as oneself.
But here in this isolated vigil
I watch the Sun rise and fall upon them
Every promised goal grow and fade
each heart commence and end.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred six"> Another Word, Another Poem </a>

I glimmer a touch
a promise of the morrow
a dream of yesterday.

Here I weave
where concepts play
upon silent thoughts.

Engraved petals
that softly fall
dancing to the drop.

Here on constant
vibrant sounds
invade, serenade.

I hear the beauty
feel the warmth
want the form.

Inward twirling
swinging and singing
my thoughts dance.

Another word
another aphorism
another promise.

Every filter filled
every texture embraced
each dot dotted, tee crossed.

Till flooded
cascading flows
another Word, another Poem.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred seven"> If In The Mornings Breath </a>

If the mornings breath
e'er but takes you away
I shall linger in the sullen fields
and my voice shall graze the scarlet hues
that scratches upon the Dawn.

In that moment of disarray
This heart will fear its trembling beat
and all that once was warm, tender
shall cross this form in Icy hues
and frozen to all thought and form
shall linger e'er to die.

If in the days caressing form
the Sun shall no hold no light
and darkness to the weary Soul
shall be the guiding life,
No summer breeze nor crystal lake
No Flower in beauty arrayed
Would awaken that moments Joy
when you within these arms Laid.

The seagull's cry shall haunt my days
to the sadness that life befalls
the glory of the youthful times
when in love -Aye! It Grows.
Capture a picture, save the Soul
for those bitter days that shall fall
A lover's lament, the passing Tide
When ones love, to the Leal tis gone.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred eight"> An Auld Man's Dream </a>

E'er here
atween tha fragmented thoughts
I craft a smile to you.
Aye! Fine it may ride
across tha room tae find
ye'er ein staring back at mine
Or maybe, yeer mind drifting aff
intae some prayer filled snooze
and ye dinnie notice me ata'.

But it disney matter, nae yin bit
For in this auld burrowed mind
yeer beauty speaks a thousan' dreams
by sure, an' in them a'
Your image sae well designed
structures every deep lang whisper
frae this auld slugger here.

Ahh! Dash tha heart O'an auld man
wear awa tha twilight fancy dreams
Far I ken yeer ein are elsewhere
an hoo I lang,they were Fa me.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred nine"> A Mile or Two </a>

The air that filled these lungs
I released into the night
and sitting here I dreamt a dream
a vision of the mind.
I heard a cry from far and wide
that filled and carried through
a weird sensation stirred inside
and drifted a thought to you.

I know you well I'd say
better than most they'd say
for we've walked a mile or two
gathering and pleading each others view
I seek an angle, test a spot
but find you'd gathered the same as I.
When winds of the Forrest
summon and call
Is it you or I that journey by.

I watched as you've grown
you knew that, you saw me there
standing beside the mirror
and there I whispered as you spoke
trying so well to tell you, ah!
But fainted wills bear no truth
and gather fast the fabled jewel,
You've watched as I talked
but listened little.

Now you lay there
empty, humble
nothing really matters now.
But I, I walk on to another shoe
another step, Till rounded formed
I talk again to another you.
Will you listen this time
part your dreams and see my tales
or must I again stumble side by side
to the folly antics and drifting tide.

(The Soul To The Body)


Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred ten"> Tales </a>

With those few tales
that shatter the world
shrouded imperfections fade
here within those few tales.

i see them, each character
each elemental thought pro-trade
draining into my brain
words once spoken,deeds said.

I see the Hassidic masters
playing their eternal roles
like everything else I've come to know
Little glimmers between all shadows
born afresh to a new night,A new day.

I watch as prophets arise and fade
between each little proverb
every little whisper that imbues a spark
The maggidim engage the chanting breeze
To awaken the Heavens before the glory.

I hear the Baal Shem Tov's cry
between pages of fantasy and truth
arising before all the same law
with an illumination that blinds
Till the Mind and Soul is filled.

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<a name="#one hundred eleven"> My Little Wing </a>

Can it flutter
shall it fly
stretch forth outward
touch the sky?

Will it sing
upon the wing
soaring heavenly
Love to bring?

Can it know
or hope to flow
between the beats
that gently grow?

Where hearts pound
to the sound
that drift the currents
of passions ground.

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<a name="#one hundred twelve"> If </a>

If time it opens as a play
---As many say it does
And we as actors, simply portray
---The lines that is and was
If all existence is but chance
---And the same shall it end
Then whats the purpose by which we live
---What future do we send?

If Love is but a simple emotion
---That dies and fades with time
Then whats the point behind all reason
---What prevents a crime
If Gods,they be a mythical thought
---A fragment of our fears
Then why are so many prayers answered
---Down through out the years?

If all we do is criticize
---The existence wherein we live
Then tell me you great Philosophers
---What wisdom do you give
If Life is but a mystery
---That never can be known
Then what is the purpose for
---The knowledge man has shown?

For I see all as flowing spheres
---that touch and dance with time
The hearts with Stars, the Soul's with Earth
---All but a Poets rhyme
I see a Future bright and bold,
---As stories could never surpass
Where mortal men and mighty Gods
---Attend each others class.

Surely all learn from all
---And love truly is the Key
There is no greater depth nor truth
---Than what comes to us Free.

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<a name="#one hundred thirteen"> In Dreams </a>

If I dream there in,lingering through
its barren depths O'time
into the proverbial hosts of mental conceptions
to leave one blind to the reality faced
Till dissected, worn turbulent, the verbatim
of inner thoughts that delve and fall
encompassing, growing, awakening
To the light of profound Hell.
Does it matter a thought or parable
the liberated will has lost
and tumbling in its own imperfections
fails to hear it's own Soul call.
Faint whispers of tomorrow grow
in the vacuum of yesterdays song
I hear amidst the hovering pain
the shallow breath go by
Till Anubis Howls his twilight cry
over the bowels of mortal clay.
Imprisoned now the Soul sojourns
within the dreams that ever last
In flight of its crime, it's shame
The morrow seldom comes.

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<a name="#one hundred fourteen"> Fall </a>

How sweet these changes are
I watch as the trees slowly strip their summer folds
and marvel at this ritual of time
winds echoing their Northern song
sweep down and surround
gathering up the fallen colors
twisting them into the air
dancing the dance of the fates
swirling like a dervish ecstatic
and singing together in that ancient song
Where Earth entwined with Air
leaves upon the breath the sweetest of scents
Nothing fills me so completely
invigorating my depths as sweetly
How I love these Days,in fact long them
I watch the pools of water enriched drops
that have sprinkled so finely from their heavenly expanse
seeing within them reflections of their horizons
and the nourishment of mother Earth.
What simple glory fills and restores ones faith
that in all, there is a season, a time, a day
each unique,each magnificent,
What a wonder we have before us each day.

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Shema Yisreal

Post by Alisdaire » Sat Jul 26, 2003 6:55 pm

<a name="#one hundred fifteen"> Hear O' Yisreal </a>

Shema Yisreal....
The citation commences
the opening prayer
the hearts reverberation
the opening stanza
the word pronounced
and here we stand
awaiting its moment.

The Lord our God...
And were summoned
beckoned too that illumination
of deep heart and soul
to perceive that truth and light
that fills every spark of you.
Heads covered, humbled souls
we raise the promise
our covenant to you.

The Lord is One...
Drawing within ourselves
every fine tuned promise
each scented parable
vibrated name, glorified
into the deep, deep being of you
till resting on the caps of truth
your holy voice echoes through
and I see eye to eye with my God.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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The Poet Sings

Post by Alisdaire » Sun Jul 27, 2003 11:27 pm

<a name="#one hundred sixteen"> The Poet Sings </a>

How does one tell a story
to fill a heart bright and full
or sing the sweetest love songs
that a Soul may know what's true?

I hear them all question, argue
the rights and wrongs of love
But all in their own misguided folly
failed to embrace themselves true love.
-------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------
(The Poet Sings)
I a poet must disagree
for I am bound to life to set truth free
and if I speak wrongly do tell
and cast me and my words into hell.
--------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------
Love is crafted finely, divinely
and God inspires in truth the way
We cannot hold back what the Heavens will
nor should any mortal withstand it, it's day.

There is no wrongs that ever played
when two hearts mingled and save
each tender moment as a day of praise
To a God that to them together gave.
-------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------
(The Poet Sings)
A poet spends his day
in words that encircle but mortal clay
His truth, it rings bright and clear
for any open heart and given ear
--------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------
But now I tither all aside
gather fast the winds that sing and sail
For Love it is but as a coming tide
That humbles the strong and heals the frail.

And I know my Love neither fades nor dies
but fills the starlight's and the gardens bright
blooming to all that within love sighs
Acknowledged by God's great sight.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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Part Two

Post by Alisdaire » Mon Jul 28, 2003 12:15 am

<a name="#one hundred seventeen"> Something Different Breeds </a>

Something different breeds
between and through the hovel stone
not quite real, yet deserving warning
it fills every nook and cranny of the place.
I've felt it rise and slither down
felt too it's ridden hands clasp my shoulder
I've know it steal a soul away
and heard its gruesome faded sway.

Where people sit and think lonely thoughts
where old folks gather their distant dreams
the creaking floor may subject them to
this demonic creature that passes through.
Silent the tick the tock of time
where riddled through with this unholy slim
It fills the heart with so much despair
conquering all till the mind is there.

Worn with age it gathers everywhere
and fills all avenues with life's tormented vision
But alas dark fiend release forth your claws
tangle no longer the minds sweet cause
let free the prisoners of your fate
and allow the breath of life to congregate.

(Depression)

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred eighteen"> The Morrow's Hue </a>

When the sweet song of morrow
drifts upon the little ears
in stories bid for sorrow
in images that fill with tears.

When a tale is no longer
but a journey that one must walk
Life bids the heart be stronger
free the images within that stalk.

Linger here, abide there
we craft our pen and journeys end
to sit a while. but to share
dreams ventured forward, send.

A poem, a story, a vibrant tale
little feelings that travel
where words set sail
gathering, taken, then unravel.

Till softly pink or lightly blue
the words take life and fly
till all that's said beats in you
behold the morrows sigh.

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<a name="#one hundred nineteen"> We Call It </a>

Deliberate tis the charm of making
concentrated the view, directed the mind
what wee aspect gathered from within the soul
echoes across the boundaries
hording all cocepts within itself
forever growing at its own vastness
and over taking the ridged charactors of time
Aphorisms of structure and being
bearing all to the presence of one
and in deliberate resistance we move on
The thought that magical liberator of man
dances upon our inconsistant cries of why's and how's
to leave us bearing nought but fantasy
Yet, we drudge through our darkest taverns and seek
That light of being and essence of Soul
Multitudes of light over sanctified images
to call witness as all before, yet dieing to the call we labour forth
prizes of our own Phantoms
and we call it truth.

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<a name="#one hundred twenty"> Cliodna of the 9th Wave </a>

Out of the past she comes
weaved into the fabric of mortal clay,
here upon these ancient fields of Munster
Her crowning glory yields the day.

Ah! Gebann, who knew that from your Loins
a majestic glory would fill this world
and dancing upon your play with time
This sacred Goddess would dance with us.

From your majickial realm of mirrors
you incantations of the sacred Rowan
would bring forth her of the greatest beauty
One that all the Gods Loved and adored.

I hear in these ancient fields the discourse
between the realms of the living and the dead
and here, between the swollen sheets of time
The fabric of the Sea echos but her name.

My fathers talked of her, this lover
that bore forever my families name
and upon the crowned seats of Tara
Ciabhan,set the roots of a King.

I have heard her call in the night
when another of my clan must walk
the borderlands between theirs and ours
To the realms of the eternal youth.

I know these shores, these distant planes
that fill me with all their glory
for in all truth, many times Ive filled these fields
To the tired weary form that then I posed.

Till here now a new form, a new name
With above, she in seagull form encircles
and calls upon the birth of every child her ways,
Awaken all to the perfection, truth.

That she our mother stays by to welcome all home
To the sacred groves of birth and decay
To those Fields of silence and great joy
forever to live between the realms
Of Tir Na Og.

( Cliodna pronounced Klee-nah )
(Gebann the Druid pronounced Gohv-ahn)

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<a name="#one hundred twenty one"> Dance </a>

I see in the twilight her form
as slowly she dances to the sweet breeze
between the avenue of dogwood trees and home
Barefoot taps upon clover grass spring
to another giggle, another laugh
Twirling,arms stretched to heaven calling
as twinkling stars, share and dance
I see those locks shine beneath
a wholesome moon half pitched and bright
what images form in those shadowed casts
embrace her form to them
here in twilights tender arms, she
awakens the world and smiles
Childish thoughts fly within and take her
to those Early lullaby's.

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<a name="#one hundred twenty two"> Here With You </a>

Let me again touch
that soft sweet form
to kiss,lip upon lip
caress,tingle, bite
here with you.

To taste the essence
Of that Soul's desire
that rages through
to stock the fires
where passions lay
here with you

That name resonates
to fill the fields
and the air I breath
feeling this texture
here with you

Visions enshroud me
Captivate and enthrall
every moments measure
that draws all thoughts
here with you

Is love so simple
that form to form
must forever entangle
groaning, moaning pleasure
here with you.

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<a name="#one hundred twenty three"> Fools like me, Dreamers of destiny </a>

Does it matter
really truly matter
that which is perceived to that known
I fathom little bits here and there
these hands seek and take hold
hoping for some deep profound thought
seeking that eternal release,
I strive for yet another aspect
till radiant, I cannot but sigh.
There is depth of depths
regions far beyond mere conception
where Gods vanish to fable thought
and all that is left is the darkness.

Far, far am I from a brilliant mind
yet even simple thoughts hold these realms
and I find I gather them like a cloak
seeking some eternal embrace of existence.
I have watched the pitter patter stories of them
they who would profess the enlightened goal
I've seen oft times more wisdom spread
in the eyes of the homeless, the words of a fool.

Science binds all to structure and elemental form
yet even these had their beginnings
It was from Chaos that all arose
from those chaotic imbalances that life was given root.
What wisdom gathered within our frames
dances out upon our mortal graves
and sings it's silent haunting air
of all that once was and could be
Thoth, gathers yet more reeds
and views the empty confines of space
questions our goals and mans destined quest
Mocks but our insanity and unfounded depth.

Pools gather where water's fall
a simple truth, no profound riddle
and wisdom is but a dream
of all that our knowledge so fore-gathers.
We drift with tides too vast for understanding
and are merely little cells in a pool of form
that chaos allows but a chanced reaction
to give the breath for but a second of reason
and here in this pantomime of existence
we marvel at all the profound being
somehow thinking in our little minds
that behind all structure, we are the reason.

I watch them come and go
Fools like me, dreamers of destiny
and wonder at the truth that may be learned
from the little souls yet unborn.

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<a name="#one hundred twenty four"> The Shaman's Drum </a>

O' the beat of the Shaman's drum
gathering the statures of Skills embrace
Whose liquid fire flows from dream's burning Kiln
upon the roaring ancient thunders of leather skin
revolutionary moments of spiritual embrace
the Shaman cooing in his antic pantomime
of symbolic gestures and ideals
Crafting always anew the Heaven's sky
pounding the Earth upon charging hoofs
the sacred land arises like a giant
all characters of the Shaman's drum
Swooping God's on feathers of Eagles
trout swarm into the tribal dance
Mountains of golden rock shake the dust
For all engulfs the visions being
Thrusting the news and glory of the Fathers
the land becomes their Eternal coats of skin
Their Souls fluffy,white,float softly above
filled with the midnight rain
In the Dance of Shaman to Shaman
The Eternals pay their honour and respects
before the mighty Shaman's call
His vocal dialect and sacred Soul
Invoking as all before had done
With a Shaman's will and a Shaman's Drum.

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<a name="#one hundred twenty five"> A Pebble Thrown </a>

I opened up
the very words that filled me over flowed
gathered and flooded till gone.
I was dry, drained
but all in all more whole, more alive.
Amazing how freely we can but give
the simple words the honest truth
the beauty that we find.
I wonder my place, my reasoning
what it is that makes my heart flutter so
and I'm lost to the reasoning, the depth
but how it springs eternal from somewhere deep inside.
When I should fall broken, demented
these words but glimmer and flood my gates
and I see so much beauty, vibrancy
till all illuminates the dead Soul of me.
I hover here most times
Contented in the little visions I have had
those special moments like a flowers first bloom
filling heart and soul aplenty too
Images that I once beheld, desired through
and come fast the furry that ranting desire
that tore the shackles and allowed me breath
into the twilight horizons and sojourning birth
That life is aplenty, filled and grown
and but my mere glimpses, like a pebble thrown.

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<a name="#one hundred twenty six"> Poetry </a>

Poetry that well of emotions
that flows from the mind to the pen
Engraving upon paper those impressions
that swirl within a Poet's brain.

How can one come to express
feelings that expand and explode
That pain and anger from unreasoned heat
that warmth and passion from a lover's embrace.
Words ever mysterious,with double meanings
characterized and pro-trade in differing tones
To illustrate the purest beauty
to reflect the greatest horror.

Poetry lingers upon the breath of Man
Forever flowing into all life's streams
Invading and conquering the Poet's mind
Chaining him or her, forever to the word.

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What Is A Poet

Post by Alisdaire » Mon Jul 28, 2003 1:48 am

<a name="#one hundred twenty seven"> What Is A Poet </a>

What is a poet
if not the words that fill
and find themselves ever running
between and through the mind
Till somehow caught by reason
figures the here and now.
Yet oft times it's not so quickly seen
the tormented visions that fill and rip
or wastes away unsaid within the head
when thought is faster than pen.

Yet the poet sits
glimmers through all that rattles out
half unspoken, half unknown
even within he is sometimes dead.
All the words sprinkle softly
lay their fermenting letters open
till another mind captures the dream
and vision again gathers, flies and sings.

This is what a poet is
a bringer of the mundane thought
with a side parcel of extras
that come from out of his cart
and drifts forever upon those fluid minds
like a magician casting his spell upon time.

Till forgotten he fades away
into some obscure reality
where once his dreams did play,
there is no more to it than simple truths
those little embraces that were journeyed through.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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Part Three

Post by Alisdaire » Wed Jul 30, 2003 9:30 pm

<a name="#one hundred twenty eight"> The Lassies O </a>

(Green Grow The Rashes, O
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes,O
Her prentice han' she try'd on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses,O.
Robert Burns 1759-1796)
----------------------------------------

Gentle the form before me
what mortal eyes can but fathum her depth
that flows like a wind upon ones breath
and flowing inward consumed the Soul.
Their delicate shape that e'er entices
gathers the Souls deep longing, the body aches
for the encounter, the tender embrace
Here within mortal chambers man sees the miracle
that shall forever haunt his dreams and being
finding the only solution to his life- Her.
----------------
Here I close those tender thoughts of her
to drift ever silently upon her purfume
lingering upon my breath- here
She captures with her lovely shape
that internal charm that pulls my heart
till all direction tis found in her.
I die to her beauty, her grace
and how I truly long that union
whereby I may share her eternal form
Tell me, O Gods, what here destroys me
drives this mind mad to her
and crazed in the desire that within
Flies and hovers upon her body,
She is the sweet shower of the heavens
that sang deep the chords of love
to draw me into her vacum of feminine bliss
and the inspiration of heart and mind
Till lost within this universe I sing
the happy momentum of you.
-----------------------------
And herein is found the depth of any man
to Love and Love but completely
the women that has toched and guided
all a mans endeavours to their true worth
What light gathers us but theirs
what Song fills us if not their voices
and by God what form moves us,teases
and totally subdues us.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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<a name="#one hundred twenty nine"> Overflowing </a>

The deepest thoughts here
collide with those internal hopes
where you arise triumphant within
and fill this space of life within
till rounded, full it overflows
echoing out ,flowing like an Eternal well
It touches another's heart,mind
growing like a like a flower
budding and blooming in fragrant zeal.
The world opens its doors
bells sound and ring
till within this vibrant pulsating moment
One see the Truth of Being.

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Part Four

Post by Alisdaire » Fri Aug 01, 2003 2:43 am

<a name="#one hundred thirty"> O' Ghosties an Things </a>

Tha breeze it blaws it's misty air
as intae tha village it enters here an there
As an auld nicht owl releases its squack
when toon fowk aroun fires dae talk.

O'auld Bothwell's phantomed castle there
an' jossies huanted hoose doun in Staire
As closer an' closer tha folk draw thagither
tae scare each ither wae their blither.

They talk O' tha Auld Abbys bloodstained field
whare tales say forty monks were fiendishly kield
Then tis Ol' Nellie as she tells her roun
O' tha infant, tha witch at loch Doon did droun.

As auld George Cuthburt takes a sip O' wine
O'tside tha win' blaws, as shivers run up his spine
Then comes Maggie wae her tuppenney bit
as tae mair can'nles tha hoose was lit.

Dae ye remem'er Jonnies tale O' tha Stane upon Merricks peak
as tae yin nicht he did hear an witness Beelzebub as tae a witch he'd speak,
An' who recalls tha strange cries las' fall
Mony say it wasn'ey a beastie at all.

As tha nicht draws in near tha blackened hour
in tiredness tales they start tae run sour
As every yin deperts tae hame tae sleep
Hoping tha Deil this nicht, upon them disney creep.

Then when at hame all lichts gae on
lea'ing nae room fa darkness tae Dawn
drifting aff intae their Prayer filled snooze
Hoping this nicht their Souls they wilney lose.

Tha hoose all secure, Aye locked and sealed
that nothing may enter nae even tha Deil.

Alisdaire O' Caoimph 1978

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O tha Lan, Tha ol' Lan

Post by Alisdaire » Fri Aug 01, 2003 3:10 am

<a name="#one hundred thirty one"> O tha Lan, Tha ol' Lan </a>

Upon tha roll O tha pagans dream
as it leaps an boun's upon tha mental stream
Flowing doun intae tha cordens O solitare
near tha brigs o' tha banks O' bonnie Ayr.

Tha whipering hazel catches hold tha tune
Echoing tha mysteries, all tha wae tae Troon
As a glimmer O' lichtning crosses tha sky
He, tha Ancient an grand Druid stans upon Carrick high.

Configurations and transformations by god,
far ayon tha concepts O tha blundering sod
Catch hold lad tha spirit as it fly's past ye
heading oot towards Arran across tha Sea.

Does no tha seagull scream tae enchant tha seamen,
an' tha win blaws like an evil melody played by a Demon
an' dinnie wait tae lang tae grasp tha chain
O' lifes faithful given, tha barley, Wheat an' grain.

But come an' see tha Mither upon her Earth filled seat
As tae tha wonnerous farmer she bows tae greet
that upon tha seasons O echoed fate they may come tae restore
tha true religion O this lan, O this flaming shore.

Nue listen an be quite till pas' a' hours break
an' gither ye thagither tha leaves an' sticks upon a half filled rake,
tae cast them upon tha fire's O beltane's torch,
an' watch as the flames leap higher an higher tae tha heevens tae Scortch.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph Either 78/79 I think

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Ocean's Spray

Post by Alisdaire » Fri Aug 01, 2003 10:41 pm

<a name="#one hundred thirty two"> Ocean's Spray </a>

I cant recall better the day
when oceans spray
filled me
dreamed with me
and carried me so far off
that time had no boundaries
no barriers no space
Just my mind and a simple pleasure
that softly floated
passed me by and yet
even in the mellow drama
I caught hold it's depth,
I remember that day
and the ocean's spray.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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