Reflections

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

mists

Alisdaire

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

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