Words dressed
Farewell the Land
Artists and Magicans
The Tennessean
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Tha Mither tongue
Crying Fields
The Glimmering
Gaelic Tide
Within Solitude
Silent Shades
Breath O' tha Gael
The Quickening
The Hush
Beating Heart
Tha Crack
Soul Search
The fluttering
Words undressed

Bridge-walk way KY
Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Scourge Of The Heavens

When time weeps the fallen tear
and man to man turn in fear
The horrors of their own Iniquity
drowns and destroys their dignity
When curses rage from every tongue
hatred becomes the mood that's sung
then behold the morning fast fades the day
When death shall gather man's decay
and the heavens shall roar for the pain shed
The Christ shall question for which it bled
and all the world in turmoil shall proclaim
Mankind that beast, God's great shame.
The aftermath, or the promise
Somewhere in-between the sanity of it all
Like a plague that dwells upon the lintel of the door
awaiting its moment to scourge fast and deep the soul
Into a tormented journey, the depths of hell.
I've sat here watching it come
the vermin of decay that floods the eternal gates
pressing so hard to force a bursting expansion of filth
till soon chains snapped, the legion hosts enter
wear the rapture of demented dreams and cries to the suffering.
The walls purged to the wrench, echoes through the corridors
clammer upon each wondrous image till scourged to dirt
contaminated to its whole the foundations shake
rumbling fills the eternity, rage pulsates it being
like a mad dog ripping, tearing, biting
Rabid to the constitution of faith.
Vomit overflows the divine images
till hell glares upon the foundations of the throne
God diminishes, fades away upon their disdain
wiped clear to the fornication of time, the deluded dreams
visions so well deceiving in their paradoxical sweep
Till soon the stench of time rots away the very fabric
the heavens fade and eternity that once fathomed dream
Dies upon its own breath and these images of what was man.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph


                                        The Kite
I see the golden whisks that stretch up into a turquoise sky
reverently the abode of the flying kite that twirls
upon the rafters of the heavens cathedral
drifting upon the open planes where the wind takes hold, rushes
drifting the soft plumes to the breeze and scented air
In a triumphant flight of dreams and hope.
The is a peaceful tranquility that invades the minds
silences it to the spectacle of sheer grace and bliss
that for hours upon hours my eyes partake of this exquisite dance
of life upon the flapping wing, air upon a pounding heart
The soul glides up there, dives and drifts upon every wish
Upon every far flung vision that draws a heart to want.
Sweet these images that so often go unseen, un-witnessed
we tread a delicate balance to the sweet song of life
Hold it upon our breath to whisper its majesty, its perfection
blind to the real depth of what there is, how we walk so coldly
upon a dark world where our horizons torch the scene
and wears the shudder of unconcern.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Upon the cracks

Dead drops the awkward sound
that upon a bards tongue sweeps unbound
where no ears hear, no thoughts endear
to the embrace of the whimsical sound
Of life's tormented holy ground.
It dribbles out upon the cracks
where seldom words fill the slacks
Of human thought, the danced rhythmic tones
that fill the mantel of mortal bones
Only to find the poetic groans.
Awe fills and finds itself aware
where the valley gleams upon our stare
The shadowed forms of long past dreams
Are these bards that fill within their screams
All the passion of our mortal streams.
To linger or fade forever away
where words embrace, hold and stray
Their ancient voices upon the air
that dares to dream, dares to share
The tender moment beyond compare.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph


To Know you

 It was between the thoughts
that little glimmer that held
filled and over flowed a thousand silent words,
Ones I knew echoed from the core of your being
trickled through the deep sea of eyes
Spoke directly to me and filled
till all was humming but the intensity
The want, the thrill to know you more.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph


                                           Such is the Dream
The day poured out its last ember
where the orange hues entwined into the red
Feed its dying grace upon the horizon
And drowned into the wet cluster of waves.
I sat here where the twilight stars hang
upon a balanced plane of cushioned velvet
that etched its sequence of the promised night
deep upon my brow, drawing me to dreams
Soft thoughts, tender moments.
I reached out where the sea touched the shore
dipped my fingers into the dark splattering water
felt the chill of the ocean fill me deep
heard upon the night wind, the soft call
Of places that long have haunted me home.
I cross the thousands of miles
to where the sun never sets, the night never fades
but both like one sacred prism of being
harbors into the gloaming of time
Resting deep my wanting soul.
I see again the sweet hills of my birth and place
that summons the very soul within me there
draws each fragmented memory out of this mind
plays them over and over again in such detail
That my heart pounds upon every image.
Deep wrung are the tears that filter through
hold me into gulf of my inner being
Cries out upon the still majestic air
the words of home, the scent of her
This mistress of my heart,
I'm weary to the days call
weary to the bitter wakeful hours
that holds me prisoner from where in truth
I always belonged, knew and lived.
A star floods my mind
as it shoots across the wayward sky
drawing me back to the reality of being
leaving the haunting chill of the moment
Burning deep inside, teasing the flame.
Soon I know these feet shall treed
across these foreign fields and hills
to wander back to the promised time
Of my home and my people.
Such is the dream.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph