The Quickening

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

Why?

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Towards Arran

YESTERDAY

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

Arran

Pristine

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

pristine,

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

Tangles

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

Lyrics

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

Christ

Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Commend

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

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