Silent Shades

To All I See

Pass the salt

dip the wound

tears fill the sea,

The morning grasp

fleeting runs

Bares the soulful plea.

the world outside

inside hides

Away from the glee.

I stand empty

vagrantly

To all that I see.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Grave yard KY

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Death Haunts

Death haunts me like a shadow

an excuse of sorts that jars my thoughts

always captures me unawares

Between the sheets of ghosts and the linen of things.

not that it matters I suppose we all have our day

that marked territory of Hades and Shoals

Those gateways that the boat somehow crosses between,

These are the images that bind us and rape us

Taking our last image and rendering it null and void

placing a memory of persona upon another's thought patterns

And leaving us bare to the cold and empty Hollows of death.

We can't do a damned thing about it

amazing how we live this life trying to control all our horizons

Then to hit that final brick wall where nothing is controllable,

Nothing fits, just the silence wins the day, the hour, that moment.

Just like that second prior to conception, I wonder.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

If the mornings breath

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

Yorkshire Downs

Sweet, sweet the fields
where the grass grows rich and full
to fill the valley to a spectacular view
That comes and engulfs this mind of mine.
I run freely the course of the wind
twirling in this dance the eternals play
The days, the nights, ever glowing in bounty
to these wild free images that here surround
infiltrate and vitalize each breath taken
thought spoken and dream envisioned.
Here in the belly structures of life
I commit to the song of the bird over head
the fox upon the green and that screeching call
of the majestic wind, that falls and gathers
every scented blossom from the fragrant womb
Of Mother earths grandeur.
Who understands better or partakes of this form
ever born to the senses, drawn to the Soul
These remote desolate places that summon and call
reminding one of the glory, the powers that yield
Here in the Yorkshire Downs,One learns to know.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Heavens Gate

Was there ever a moment you didn't know

felt the beat of every last drop of blood

that poured from these veins beguiled

To all I thought and dreamt was you.

Do you hear the last vestige of hope

that beats, no pounds so hard at your door

begging upon it last breath the only meaning

That winged all essence upon it sore.

I have died many times, faded to Hades

where the engulfing moment bore away all

left empty to any fringe of hope for the morrow

I peered into the depths of all I wish I could deny.

Oh fade fast sweet life,

take hold this rotten root of being

wash it deep in the pits of its own decay

And let life wedge the pits of disarray.

There's no dream, no hope, no reason

no quest for anything beyond the deed of fate

just a whimper of what once was

Lost upon the inscription that is far long late

I hesitate upon the entrance

wait the abode to draw deep and cling

wish away the tears and sorrow

Here I await heaven's gate.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

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