The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knock-narea,
And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat;
But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

I want to be where the night hags scream
As they feed off the fears of man
I want to live where the nightmares are dreamed
And survey the scorched desert lands

I want to hide in the goblin's lair
Slipping out for a taste from the ***
Where he cooks the men who journey there
And feasts on them while they're hot

I want to fly through the midnight sky
With the vampires who feed
On unknowing victims from throats and thighs
I want to see them bleed

I want to live like it's All Hallow's Eve
Titillated all year by every scare
But since I can not I do things unseen
So, my dear friends, BEWARE

Finding myself dismissed
For my slow speed
And small size
I see there is no use for speed in the eternal
As there is no use for size in the infinite
For I have the tortoise way
As God has given me this glorious shell
That the world may throw down
Its smugness and contempt on me
For it just rattles like rain of a roof
As I draw my head in
I hear the pitted patter
Of the world's pain softly
Raining down on me
I relax in the warmth of my own shell

They may keep their childish ways
Their one upmanship
For I do not seek the high road
But the low
Where my heart brushes with earth
And I feel close to God
For I love the earth so much
That I did not choose to be born
On two legs and tall
But on four legs and small
With my heart as close
To the earth as possible
For I love the earth so much

Bound to the earth I appear to all
As they laugh and chuckle
In their disregard
As I am humbled by the earth
And my own limitation
But God rewards me with long life
As he does many gentle souls
For I will be hugging the earth
When they are long gone
And their empires have fallen

Listening to the whispers of a tortoise
Will bring you great joy
For seldom will such love be matched
As they guard the earth
With their warm heart
And shield it from the harshness
Of the World
With their beautiful shell
Where underneath an intimacy
With the earth is fostered
and can only be known
By the beauty of a tortoise

The sweet scarlet lady
Condemned by the collective
Piously cursed by all
As they revel in their
contemptuous scorn
As a cocktail of lust and hate
Is dealt to her by many
With a heart crushing arrogance
In this dark hidden world
The spite of the respectable
Is poured over her with a disregard
That burns like a molten lead
While on Saturday roses are pruned
And front doors are painted
She collects the angst
And disappointments of lost youth
Of the sleepy bitter soul
As she becomes a giant dustbin
For this world

What great resilience
What amazing strength
As her ****** center dissolves
All the unhappiness of this world
As she is a hidden angel
Defiled by the world she absorbs all
For she is painted with the projections
Of the worlds forbidden fruit
But she is the rose tinted lady
Dreaming of greater times
A coffee in st Peterburgs square
Oh what a brave dare
filling her sisters needs
With all these gracious deeds

Living in this thankless world
She is the rescuer of many men
Used and abused by
The emotionally inept
She remains centered
In a hidden dignity
Only known by her
As she gives and gives
Many faces made and portrayed
As she gives herself up
She becomes a plasticine
For the childish souls to play
As she lives in a surrender
That no monk would ever know
Her surrender so complete
she disappears into her center
A holiness the devils mock
And all the angels and Jesus flock
Her submission to nature carrying
A purity that says yes to life
In the back drop of this world
The Lord can only find a relief

If we find the surface of a ******* *****
It is only because we project
The dirt of our own soul
As we defile their outside with our inside
As they are truly hidden angels
Sent to clean this world

Society's strange,
Throwing out judgments that make us want to change
You'll skip a meal to meet their expectations
A few more after that to see how far you'll go

They'll ask you why you're not hungry
And you'll make up some excuse
They'll take the words slipping off your thin cold lips,
as you look at the food on your plate but instead choosing the water in small sips

They'll catch on to the weight you've lost the past few months
The food you've tossed along with your old-beautiful thoughts
They'll seek to find you help, and you'll turn away believing this is "natural beauty"

Weeks go by and you're suffering more then ever,
You see yourself as something this world would never
Society's strange,
Throwing out judgments that make us want to change
Believing the judgment is hard to ignore,
But never seeing yourself as beautiful is more un-healthy then my words before