The Quickening

Words dressed
Farewell the Land
Artists and Magicans
The Tennessean
Favorite Links
Contact Me
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

A prayer
What if that I
in awkward embrace
lay forth a cry
that fills the raptured halls
the kingdom high
to a simple question
a single sigh
Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Towards Arran

Yesterday was a long, long road
down the mire of lost reason
where I sqirm in the thought
that here upon a nights pleasure
I may have lost forever the reason
left behind a dream of bliss
and crafted for myself a woe
never to be out lived nor dressed away
But torn upon tattered images of what I was,
maybe still are to you.
Alisdaire O'caoimph


Sometimes the rain
falls in such a manner
that one seems so consumed by it
the feel, the scent
the very clarity of its depth
seems so inward, that one journeys
the downward fall
from those clouds atop the world
to run its vibrant flow down
hurling itself against the window, the sod
Till fresh and clear the world becomes.
Its these moments
that I see beyond the shelf
gaze through the keyhole
into a world more awakened
true and clear to its meaning
and somewhere between and I
lays the perfection
the small treasured step
That makes one whole.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Heiland Fall

Her Heather sark
I wander here again
as many the day before
for a span of years this mind
roams upon the shore
Little remembrances
re-educates the heart once more
to the simple easy days
When life held out more.
The sun glistens upon the sea
the wind soft to form
caresses here the jagged weeds
the thistle and the thorn
I wander deep my old paths
were in youth I roamed and played
the magic of the fairytale
was the land and what it gave
Sweet the dreams that flood and fill
these tranquil moments in time
holds bright the promise of another day
 When again theses fields I shall stray.
Where mighty hawk hovers above
where the cliffs race to the sea
To those lochs that are filled so fresh
to the sweet mornings plea
I journey back across the years
as fate has had me roam
To see the land of which Im part
to feel my distant home.
There's no shore like that of hers
no field that hugs the soul
just empty planes without any names
that hides like some Foe
I dream of her my seductive queen
when the nights are cold and dark
I see her there inviting me
Dressed in her heather sark.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Heather Sark


It is not here in the tangles
of what we'd wish life's song to hold
No jewel equals nor gathers
more to the moment than you,
Its not the all or the nothing
but that delicate path between what beats
what lays there unspoken, holds
you upon the simplistic message of my soul
And whispers your name.
I don't walk gentle, for time so ravishes the form
and youth that once beguiling structure
cannot save the body's wears or fates long haul
So I speak open, across
where the table lies open, fresh
and drawing upon you my eyes
I feast the heavens.
You know the song that lingers here
where upon your lonely tide
your drawn
For even in my waged resistance to life
I stretch forth that budding song
that mellow the mark wears to your soul
And frowns upon your thoughts the smile.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph


There's an old dream
that haunts the caverns of my mind,
Like a song written upon pages so long ago
that time forgot its lyrics, etched out anew
A melody that somehow was misplaced
upon pages of a different era
and asked me there to play my part;
A mixed role that held no depth
Sustained no chord but left me empty.
It's here upon the half cast glaring moon
that I draw the final realization, the parting gift
that holds me where time stood still
and longed the countenance of just one more day
Where fate and destiny would cease their play.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

The breath hangs heavy
somewhere between reality and the sublime
It awaits it time, its moment, the dull encounter
that sweeps the world across oblivion's pen
gathers upon the infinite clouds of darkness
the prism of lights final dawn.

He shudders
the body shakes in the convulsive action
The agony of the moment gathers its rapture
slides down across his face like a veil
leaving an empty porcelain image
that hovers between the ethereal and life
Some where clouded upon the conception of time
And marked the destiny of his being.

Little tremors fill his form
the constricting fibers of tendons
Nerves fierce shudder under the weight
the body torn upon the cavity of life
empty and lonely to the decaying moments
that life begged upon a gust wind
and howled out against the arch's of existence
The moment the deluge of death set in.

They cried, moaned and grieved
Bitter the lamentations that filled the woe
a world trembling in the intoxicating moment
perceived a humble moment of pain
heard upon these quivering lips
his final words that robbed the zest of life
bearing his eyes heaven word, he roars
Unto thy hands I commend my spirit.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph