galman-frederick-ferguson

I want to be a tree... reaching high up into your heaven... rooting deep into your heart...

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Jun 30, 2012

Jun 30, 2012 at 11:57 AM UTC

I want to be a tree... reaching high up into your heaven... rooting deep into your heart...

Call it a curse, whatever It hurts me so good I'm trapped between good and bad Call it a romance, anything Would it still be romantic if it takes lives? Call it a love poem, maybe. Why do i feel ***** reading it out loud? Call it haunting, right. Maybe it is indeed. Why am i not afraid? Call it erotica, oh yes. Why haven't i hit the ****** yet? You are so beautiful it's so painful to love you...

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Feb 16, 2012

Feb 16, 2012 at 2:53 PM UTC

****** ROMANCE

Call it a curse, whatever It hurts me so good I'm trapped between good and bad Call it a romance, anything Would it still be romantic if it takes lives? Call it a love poem, maybe. Why do i feel ***** reading it out loud? Call it haunting, right. Maybe it is indeed. Why am i not afraid? Call it erotica, oh yes. Why haven't i hit the ****** yet? You are so beautiful it's so painful to love you...

13

Enjoyment and love by the water We, blanketed in the sweet scent of sunset As the world and daylight sever Pouring our bare feet into grass of velvet Vanilla skies reflected in the water We stare deep like never Benighted yet radiant and true As the moon lights and seeps through you Another kiss to another song In every melody and pleasure Ever so kind and fond Like a precious treasure We merge into a song That i sing to your heart ''Come shine and light me Like a twinkle in your eyes As you stand on my bank before the starry water Ever so fair ever mine''

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Feb 15, 2012

Feb 15, 2012 at 12:20 PM UTC

The Lovely Stream

Enjoyment and love by the water We, blanketed in the sweet scent of sunset As the world and daylight sever Pouring our bare feet into grass of velvet Vanilla skies reflected in the water We stare deep like never Benighted yet radiant and true As the moon lights and seeps through you Another kiss to another song In every melody and pleasure Ever so kind and fond Like a precious treasure We merge into a song That i sing to your heart ''Come shine and light me Like a twinkle in your eyes As you stand on my bank before the starry water Ever so fair ever mine''

18

Perfectly touched, intimacy here in this very room you could never wait to rush into, lit only by candles, wrapped up in our winter blanket. Several glasses of wine to go, and story after story by midnight. Touch after touch... Never laughed without thoughts of tomorrow... I could never lit my cigarettes without flashes of the fire in your eyes burning our nights away... It's your perfume merging with the scent of the pine walls that always brought me here... Bed and sheet you could always fall into... I felt safe here with my fingers running through your hair... Through the homesickness on your face... Mere as it was yet deeply comforting... The only thing that lingered on without your presence...

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Oct 17, 2011

Oct 17, 2011 at 4:00 PM UTC

Our Story

Perfectly touched, intimacy here in this very room you could never wait to rush into, lit only by candles, wrapped up in our winter blanket. Several glasses of wine to go, and story after story by midnight. Touch after touch... Never laughed without thoughts of tomorrow... I could never lit my cigarettes without flashes of the fire in your eyes burning our nights away... It's your perfume merging with the scent of the pine walls that always brought me here... Bed and sheet you could always fall into... I felt safe here with my fingers running through your hair... Through the homesickness on your face... Mere as it was yet deeply comforting... The only thing that lingered on without your presence...

11

She says follow me I do like a puppy. She says stop I don't. She says what do you want? I say you She says but you have to stop I say stop me then She says i can't. You're a man I say you can. You're a woman.

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Sep 22, 2011

Sep 22, 2011 at 3:01 AM UTC

STOP ME I'M A MAN

She says follow me I do like a puppy. She says stop I don't. She says what do you want? I say you She says but you have to stop I say stop me then She says i can't. You're a man I say you can. You're a woman.

10

Wine and cigarettes all i have in vain But nothing comes close to ease my pain Winter has frozen my pale fingers As i walk and linger My father's last words flew through my heart As he touched my face and i cried to never part The wood floor creaked as i walked The walls shattered as i talked He said the old house is alive I knew it when it was so quiet at night Whenever i said my flat prayers to Christ I did not come back for melancholy of my boyhood friends As memories have always been in the right places to suspend Like cold brief kisses shared before goodbyes Struggling for never ending happines to come by Autumn came when i was still deep in slumber Tucked up innocent in his warm chamber Whenever i opened my eyes again he was there Watching out the window, looking so fair There were nights when the ferry docked And those distinct shapes in the mist outside i could not make out There he went away Ferried over so far away As i did to him likewise now

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Aug 23, 2011

Aug 23, 2011 at 10:57 AM UTC

Rock Of Fergus

Wine and cigarettes all i have in vain But nothing comes close to ease my pain Winter has frozen my pale fingers As i walk and linger My father's last words flew through my heart As he touched my face and i cried to never part The wood floor creaked as i walked The walls shattered as i talked He said the old house is alive I knew it when it was so quiet at night Whenever i said my flat prayers to Christ I did not come back for melancholy of my boyhood friends As memories have always been in the right places to suspend Like cold brief kisses shared before goodbyes Struggling for never ending happines to come by Autumn came when i was still deep in slumber Tucked up innocent in his warm chamber Whenever i opened my eyes again he was there Watching out the window, looking so fair There were nights when the ferry docked And those distinct shapes in the mist outside i could not make out There he went away Ferried over so far away As i did to him likewise now

24

The Sycamore trees... They have their own stories... They have seen much... Heard much... Known much... Witnessed much... The house was built in 1807 by Reuben McFerguson for his irish wife. McFerguson was a retired scottish teacher who moved to Ireland to start a new life. They got married in 1805 in Edinburgh. Living a hard life in Edinburgh they decided to move to Kilkenny. There he built her a house which would later be known as The Sycamore. In 1809, three years after the sudden move, their baby boy was born. The only son they ever had. They named him Aindreas Crióstoir McFerguson (anglicized Andrew Christopher Ferguson). Andy grew into a quiet young man. Two weeks after his 21st birthday in 1830, his father died of lung cancer. Despite being so young, he had to take the responsibility for taking a good care of the house and his mother. Andy was indeed a good looking young man. His being quiet was considered his *** appeal by many. Nobody knew or even had the slightest idea about his troubled soul. One night he invited a young girl to dine with him. After his mother went to bed, he took the poor girl into the basement and then strangled her to death. He hid the body in one of the barrels of wine. The next two nights he invited two girls again. One girl each night. Killed them in the basement and hid the bodies in the barrels. He killed two more in the attic. His mother lived her days till she died, 7 years after the killings, never knowing about five bodies hidden in the house. After his mother's death, Andy lived like a ghost. He barely slept and visited his parents' graves regularly three times a week. In 1839, At the age of 30, he married Rachel Moore, whom he met at church (When he met her, he'd been regularly going to church every week to become closer to God). They had two daughters, Marie and Johanna and a son, Jeremy. Each born in 1841,1843,and 1847. Due to The Great Famine, they rented out the house to be used as a temporary mortuary until the famine ended in 1850. In 1852, being haunted by his crime, and the need (which kept coming back) to **** again, Andy ended his own life by hanging himself in the basement. His wife sold the house and moved to Belfast with her children. In 1857, Mr.Lowell, the man who bought the house, decided to renovated it. His workers found the bodies of the five women. They also found Andy's old journal and then learnt of how the killings happened. Knowing that Andy's wife had nothing to do with the killings, they didn't bother asking her at all. In 1884, Andy's son, Jeremy moved back to Kilkenny and bought the house back from Mr.Lowell's son. Another renovation and then (which was already known as 'The house of the dead fairs') 're-occupied', the house was once again owned by a descendant of its first owner. Jeremy had five children. His oldest son, Matthew inherited the house. In 1922, Jeremy passed away. Before he died he asked Matthew to take a really good care of the house. Though later Matthew sold the house to an english doctor, his son Reuben bought it back in 1938. Reuben's son, Patrick, from his second marriage, was born in 1950. Armand, another son was born in 1954. At the age of 19 Patrick converted to catholicsm and then became a pastor. Armand moved to Carrickfergus and married a girl he met there in 1980. Armand had three sons. In 1989, three days before christmas, Armand was killed by some unknown men who broke into his house. After his son's death, Reuben moved to his wife's hometown, Edinburgh. Blaming Armand's wife for Armand's death, Reuben never tried to make any kind of contact with her. In 1990, Reuben and his son's widow reconciled. He asked her to move back to Kilkenny. In 1994, Emma... Armand's widow.... My mother... Moved back to Kilkenny to occupy The Sycamore, The House..... and start a new life... And with Reuben's permission, she married his husband's cousin, Isaac Ferguson...

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Aug 16, 2011

Aug 16, 2011 at 4:17 PM UTC

The House Of The Dead Fairs

The Sycamore trees... They have their own stories... They have seen much... Heard much... Known much... Witnessed much... The house was built in 1807 by Reuben McFerguson for his irish wife. McFerguson was a retired scottish teacher who moved to Ireland to start a new life. They got married in 1805 in Edinburgh. Living a hard life in Edinburgh they decided to move to Kilkenny. There he built her a house which would later be known as The Sycamore. In 1809, three years after the sudden move, their baby boy was born. The only son they ever had. They named him Aindreas Crióstoir McFerguson (anglicized Andrew Christopher Ferguson). Andy grew into a quiet young man. Two weeks after his 21st birthday in 1830, his father died of lung cancer. Despite being so young, he had to take the responsibility for taking a good care of the house and his mother. Andy was indeed a good looking young man. His being quiet was considered his *** appeal by many. Nobody knew or even had the slightest idea about his troubled soul. One night he invited a young girl to dine with him. After his mother went to bed, he took the poor girl into the basement and then strangled her to death. He hid the body in one of the barrels of wine. The next two nights he invited two girls again. One girl each night. Killed them in the basement and hid the bodies in the barrels. He killed two more in the attic. His mother lived her days till she died, 7 years after the killings, never knowing about five bodies hidden in the house. After his mother's death, Andy lived like a ghost. He barely slept and visited his parents' graves regularly three times a week. In 1839, At the age of 30, he married Rachel Moore, whom he met at church (When he met her, he'd been regularly going to church every week to become closer to God). They had two daughters, Marie and Johanna and a son, Jeremy. Each born in 1841,1843,and 1847. Due to The Great Famine, they rented out the house to be used as a temporary mortuary until the famine ended in 1850. In 1852, being haunted by his crime, and the need (which kept coming back) to **** again, Andy ended his own life by hanging himself in the basement. His wife sold the house and moved to Belfast with her children. In 1857, Mr.Lowell, the man who bought the house, decided to renovated it. His workers found the bodies of the five women. They also found Andy's old journal and then learnt of how the killings happened. Knowing that Andy's wife had nothing to do with the killings, they didn't bother asking her at all. In 1884, Andy's son, Jeremy moved back to Kilkenny and bought the house back from Mr.Lowell's son. Another renovation and then (which was already known as 'The house of the dead fairs') 're-occupied', the house was once again owned by a descendant of its first owner. Jeremy had five children. His oldest son, Matthew inherited the house. In 1922, Jeremy passed away. Before he died he asked Matthew to take a really good care of the house. Though later Matthew sold the house to an english doctor, his son Reuben bought it back in 1938. Reuben's son, Patrick, from his second marriage, was born in 1950. Armand, another son was born in 1954. At the age of 19 Patrick converted to catholicsm and then became a pastor. Armand moved to Carrickfergus and married a girl he met there in 1980. Armand had three sons. In 1989, three days before christmas, Armand was killed by some unknown men who broke into his house. After his son's death, Reuben moved to his wife's hometown, Edinburgh. Blaming Armand's wife for Armand's death, Reuben never tried to make any kind of contact with her. In 1990, Reuben and his son's widow reconciled. He asked her to move back to Kilkenny. In 1994, Emma... Armand's widow.... My mother... Moved back to Kilkenny to occupy The Sycamore, The House..... and start a new life... And with Reuben's permission, she married his husband's cousin, Isaac Ferguson...

12

I walk my way down the hill Boys of this town, once so alive and real Long-expected, so fair and innocent Walking the land with excitement Hares and butterflies, nightmares and night skies Their skins bare, hoping looks in their eyes Night fell on their innocent banks I cried as the moon sank Where are my boys... For i could not hear their loving voices An empty room marked my longing The cold autumn breeze caught my singing My lullabies cold and frozen For the path they had not chosen Never grow up in my dreams Just as the little stream My boys swagger the day away It is a long way

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Aug 4, 2011

Aug 4, 2011 at 9:19 AM UTC

Fionn and Morann

I walk my way down the hill Boys of this town, once so alive and real Long-expected, so fair and innocent Walking the land with excitement Hares and butterflies, nightmares and night skies Their skins bare, hoping looks in their eyes Night fell on their innocent banks I cried as the moon sank Where are my boys... For i could not hear their loving voices An empty room marked my longing The cold autumn breeze caught my singing My lullabies cold and frozen For the path they had not chosen Never grow up in my dreams Just as the little stream My boys swagger the day away It is a long way

18

*You were the only man i had always wanted to see Walking down the road to the sea Swaggering in your new jacket Looking for fellas to bracket* *In Carrickfergus they called you a robber To me you were a handsome rover Beautiful green eyes as the rolling hills Your happy thoughts into me you had instilled* *In Belfast you smuggled your hopes and fears Slainté! You danced pints of beer away Alas! They did not see your tears You were on your own finding your way* *My old friend, my sad handsome friend Patrick... Alone you sang your weary songs and turned sick I cried bitterly, nobody to lay you down Summer,and you had no wheat to sow* *Ah! You were so handsome and young During summer days you smiled and cheered me up in my den Calling out your name,i screamt at the top of my lungs. You were gone....gone...you would never answer again*

0

Jul 11, 2011

Jul 11, 2011 at 9:45 AM UTC

Patrick o' Carrickfergus (repost)

*You were the only man i had always wanted to see Walking down the road to the sea Swaggering in your new jacket Looking for fellas to bracket* *In Carrickfergus they called you a robber To me you were a handsome rover Beautiful green eyes as the rolling hills Your happy thoughts into me you had instilled* *In Belfast you smuggled your hopes and fears Slainté! You danced pints of beer away Alas! They did not see your tears You were on your own finding your way* *My old friend, my sad handsome friend Patrick... Alone you sang your weary songs and turned sick I cried bitterly, nobody to lay you down Summer,and you had no wheat to sow* *Ah! You were so handsome and young During summer days you smiled and cheered me up in my den Calling out your name,i screamt at the top of my lungs. You were gone....gone...you would never answer again*

20

You are my shadow... I can only see you in the dark...

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Apr 25, 2011

Apr 25, 2011 at 9:43 AM UTC

Shadow

You are my shadow... I can only see you in the dark...

2