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When I am dead and gone
my flesh to earth better worn
what shall old fate say of me
upon the pages of life's melody
When this heart has waged it final woe
to whom shall it say it did go
and where in all of dignity
Shall the soul gather it's serenity.

When these hands have ceased their write
and faded letters appear in sight
Shall the words speak true of poet dead
or shall they be as words unsaid
Who will know the greatest loves
that filled my soul like blessed doves
Shall a tear linger out for me
while far between this world I be.

What of all I dream't and feared
the passions born, the torments reared
The little words I shared with glee
the promise of love's tender plea
But sure as time shall mark the spot
Shall I have gained all that within I sought
or will the winds but carry me afar
To leave my soul as a burned out Star.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
It's a story best forgotten
the words but a fairy tale
like fruit left till rotten
a love grown cold and stale.

His words once bore the Sun
lifted the heart and kissed a smile
those words that now no longer run
have changed to ones so vile.

Eager once to hold her
to share moments pleasures and ways
now sits before a big screen to see
Football games and plays.

That a man once could love so deeply
his passion last the night so long
how now they have gone completely
in a love that is dead and wrong.

Is fate so cruel to a woman's heart
to give true love as a second in life
leaving the rest empty and alone
---As a Dead man's Wife.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Ae Fond Kiss
Ae fond kiss,and then we sever!
Ae farewell,and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee,
Who shall say that fortune grieves him,
While the Star of hope she leaves him?
Me nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around benights me.
Robert Burns (1759-1796)
That gathers amidst the torrid rain
The heavy skies laden e'er with grief
Here empties to the tears that flow.
I remember yesterday's dream
the swinging clarity that surrounded this love
and drawn whole together- We
Aye! We dreamed and dared a future
Gathering our love like a guilt around us
keeping the warmth of every thought embraced -alive
Fleeing every adversary, we pledged
Eternal the Love strings our Soul's played.
Time tithers visions and goals
Hearts drift to dialogs of thought
and somewhere in between the you and the I
We faded to past glories, Aye! The dreams.
I saw the towered structures fall
felt the Earth shudder to the sigh
that here warred within this heart
and battled forth errands of seek and destroy
Till left empty, alone, We cry
For every silent memory of what was
and with those cold Northern winds
We kissed and said goodbye.
I still sit on such howling nights
Where heavy clouds drift and fall
Hearing in my silence, again your voice
and all the promises that now chaotic lay
Of all that once, truly once was
Aye! How well I grieve, I cry.
Reflections carry upon the rain
that which still scares this my Soul
and the strangest Images crafted there
Tis not the joyful and happy times
But that final touch, that last kiss goodbye.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
The engines roar
Movement is ****** forward
Shaking in the vibrations of its force.

Looking out of the small window
I see the Earth passing away beneath us
Those green, green fields, that once held my dreams
Are fading into the distance
Those trees and hedges, that once echoed my soul
Will become in time tender past memories.

Lines are crossing the land below
Gray lines
Upon them matchbox replica's move to and fro.

Roof tops with chimneys bursting forth,
This world looks so different from up here
Little villages and towns scatter the patch worked quilt
A domain of little people, Leprechauns
I see myself down there, staring up, The Soul,
Waving farewell to its body.

Deep inside
Wells those tears of parting
Of saying farewell to the hearts final beat.

I lay back my head
Close to my eyes
Feeling the parting of friends and family, the place
I shall always call my home,
That land these hands have held, its texture
Like a women's Lily soft skin,
No soil on Earth clings stronger to the bone, no dream as bright
As dreams of journeys home.

In my silent thoughts
I hear the cries of friends,
Echoing the haunting voice of home and place.

Yet! I did leave her like an ungrateful lover,
And how she has grieved for her wondering companions;
Clinging to her children with every essence of her form
But I shall always dream of her,
Of her tenderness and her warmth,
Farewell my dearest Mistress, My aching heart.

Your Lover
Your child
Now has left your womb.

But I shall return dear breath, back to you
As the western Winds return again upon the Firth
To lay but once more within your arms,
to feel your form beneath my flesh
And like the fragrance that flows gently from your image
My Soul and Body,
Together with yours,
Shall forever roam.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Away ye tempests rising
the songs of life fall short
the faded images of the morrows sun
shall dim afore these eyes once bright
there is no longer a song to carry
nor a drifting phrase to brighten this mind
only pastures of endless countless wishes
that e'er now but longs to hide.
I have heard the chambers roar
triumphant he comes and brings
to these ears that final mirth
to this soul its long abide
These eyes of mine dim and worn
to the bitter step and paths arrayed
I lay back in my final glory to
the ancestral calls and faded halls
the bygone lands where they my fathers be.
I cry O' winds but e'er one last time
and thunder to the heavens e'er sweet glory
My bardic drift shall fade sweetly away
into a Celtic Gaels soft story.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
A little word
flies, cries
outward runs
flows, grows
faster upon the air
grasping, gasping
needing to share
screams, dreams
vibrant to the ear
whispers, whimpers
All it contains.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
A blank empty canvas
Pure as the winter's snow
Open as but a vast window
Seeing deep into it's soul.

The mind ticks in emotional frustration
Relics of imagination fly and form
Particles of atomic consciousness
Gathers and flows like an Astro storm.

White wash covers the surface
The first invocation soothing and mild
Then images gather before the eyes
Like a raging storm, fierce and wild.

The pallet is filled with rainbow mixtures
Here one joins to the alchemist's dream
Establishing upon board, paper or canvas
The unfoldment of the creative stream.

Brush in hand, Like an ancient wand
One casts the horizon like a spell
Summoning, coaxing, those tides within
Where the possession conquered, flowed and fell.

Dashes here, strokes there
Balancing the tones within each hew,
The thoughts so fast, mind captured
Projections all of that inner you.

Murky and shapeless at the start
But shadows enhance, inward glance
Light engulfs and shines but through
The eyes captured to the romance.

The artist gallant before his glory
Yet! Never fulfilled by its view
Playing upon its essence and structure
He draws upon images new.

One here becomes the timeless Shaman
Working the magic of natures way
Gathering the similarities and imbuing with fire
Elevating ever the thought to the creative day.

Or like a modern mystic
Grasped tight in spiritual bliss
subduing into but representations
The reflections of the heaven's kiss.

But all in all the artist is
whether by paint, sculpture, acrylic or oil
A voyager of the main stream existence
His vision of his own scared soil.

The goal is not unlike any science
To acquire that bridge of untold reason
For artist down throughout the ages
Have awakened the soul to its season.

The emotions arise, fly, excite
Those creatures of the inspirational mind
Poets, musicians, painter, writers
By what ever character there we find
All artists, All Magicians.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
I saw one day
A bright beautiful light
that seemed ever so far,
Yet! Somehow near
deep within this brilliant orb
was all I found captured dear,
A smiling face, A loving heart
A twinkling Eye, A tear.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Where brown to tan
invites the eye
the silent sigh
that whimpers upon its find
The mind
Lost where reason fills, consumes
That here looms
Both in dream and sight
The beat of a heart.

That here where
in the fragrance I stroll
The illuminating light that shines
My heart to the knowledge
That love grows, Fills and here invites
Me ever to her form.

That love
That might of mortal dreams
upon the night its want
to be,
To see
where the eyes long
the hands strong
Long to touch and be

Ah! so simple the tender needs
through and within the orb of thought
so strongly as though it was caught
forever within her sight
The might
That ebbs to the flow of emotion
Singles to the devotion
Of all that love should be
And finds it at home in me.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
I cant really say what it is
That draws me so, seems to hold me
Upon its fine charismatic flavor
distills within me
Those fine thoughts
pragmatic ramblings of mind
that sweeps across in tides of reason
Where in truth no reason exists.
It's looking into a mirror
that self, reflecting back
cries out within me
those long past days
That fill every boundary
opens its seems unusual doors
Into the wide spectrum of existence.
In the quite times
where my mind drifts upon the soft words
I come to understand something more deep
More real than all that existence holds true
That Love,
That virus of the soul
spurge's within unique metaphors
of the fine lines by which mortals place
The guiding vortex of existence.
That God, that power. being
In our constant search
opens the windows of the Soul
That we all may breath deep its fill.
Here upon the fine tuned fork
Love draws itself out upon the pain
Subdues the heart and holds it
Like a warm deep ocean
Where love in tides
Sweeps humanity away.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
A woman's heart
such a delicate flower
that blooms upon the rich warm fields
Where love calls its name.

Each petal of her
like a rich brocade
woven to the sheer delights
That fills a woman's Soul.

It is in her
that truly all mystery arises
Holds dear to form and substance
The dreams that are the worlds.

But this heart
How so it pounds
thrives for the consistency
that eternal need.

To be shared, consumed, held
In the vibrancy of want, passion
In the delicate sound of a word
in the soft touch of a hand.

It engulfs, holds her,
rushing deep
fills every gap
And makes her whole.

To live in the fantasy
where wants collide upon the breath
The sweet instinctive musk
that arouses from the depths of them.

Their passion that quivers upon
Through and for that gentle touch
To be loved whole and sweetly
lived in and with that erupting soul.

They strive in its simplicity
their want, their need
For loves fulfillment
that shines from their eyes.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Welcome Stranger come and hear
the words that draw the heavens near
and listen to it's breeze that blows from the East
of whose Ancient cast melody tames Man and Beast.

For Tis a song so old that time has forgot
the writer of its winds wherein it's Lyrics are caught
But it's secrets may be heard and it's power felt
within the heart and mind of a truthful Celt.

For its words though obscure hold the greatest key
for all the descendants to come and see
The place where verse and rhyme equate with time
to show man's greatness and his crime.

Tis a place where all may come to Ken
the song Of the Bard over Hill and Glen
Tis a song of Being, Of Life's joy and its pain
O'Blissful tender passions and tortures mournful slain.

Tis a Journey back into the past,a relic of times gone
and yet a journey into the future, O'Life's greatest song
So Welcome stranger into a World of verbal fantasy
and to the inspirations of this Bardic Rhapsody.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
here in this warm abode
where the gurgles of life
hinge and gather
to intensify the beats.
these waters of being
that holds retained
the dream of a tomorrow
the sight of a new day.
Little chances flicker here
everything seems of its own
simply to be
Yet such power
such a crafting
that yields bone to form
Skin to muscle
and pumps the life named
from heart to heart
and here in the silence
I unborn, live.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Its a long, long walk
where yesterday's images trail the long winding roads of nowhere
Seem ajar to what ever mystery life once held and echoed
the silent slumber of faded promises and disillusioned ideals
Soak together in the oblivion of the abyss, and cries.
There's a spot, unpolluted by the lies and wrongs
Far away from that changing that consumed and diluted us,
Where still I behold your perfection ever anew, like a dream
That even in the wakened state I feel close to the bone.
Time doesn't change things, nor have we,
I still see the sparkle in your eyes
That silent want to be held again
kissed and loved so tender
Like in the day's before the pain.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
When tides turn
the rolling flood fills
seems as if there to spill
upon the hallowed grounds
the flow of all that within a moments prayer
Rushes out there to compare
the tragedy of a moment
the internal drive lost in torment
That crushes forth those boundaries
where bears the tears of life's foundries
and pours out its delicate essence of form
In the simple bud of a tear.

That hearts and minds together pressed
there before ourselves - Undressed
The scars of the world that holds us down
suffocates us to drown
In the hollows of our being - seeing
The last fine ray of love outstretched
unable to grasp - We gasp
for the loss that is the woe of the soul
the love that would not come nor go
Just hovers in-between our beings
lost forever to our hearts dealings
that ravishes our sleep to no-more
where brands the pain, annoy, it's sore
upon the cold and lonely floor
Where we weep our bitter dreams.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
She holds these butterfly dreams
these dragonfly visions
always before her eyes
to materialize
The longed for want that within abides
the tear that cannot hide,
this deliverance of love
that flutters within her heart as a dove
longing the expression, the want
To fly high the fields of hope
Where she can cope
with the uncertainties, the fears
that within her at times sheers
her world apart to the doubt
Of all that she does want.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
The wee cries
press out upon the chest
echoes out and through
till soon
it embraces the nights air
Fills the solitary moment
And leaves there its mark.

I watch
from the shadows of thoughts
where the lips quiver
the tears run their course
out and upon
the fine silk pillow case
To leave there the stain of the heart.

I watch the moaning
that rolls upon her loss
the long pain that stretches
across the wide brim
where the heart breaks, dies
fades into oblivion
A place of shattered souls
Here that gather, reside forever
Upon the desolate fields of emotions.


I've heard the replayed dreams
That fill the memories
grips the foundations of their souls
and lingers out like a dying kiss
to ever haunt the nights abyss
Of nothing and of all.
Here, where the roots of humanity
tinge the fine lines of fate
dances the long voyage of the heart
And there closes the gate.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
I often travel
it seems between the lines
Those indexes of verbatim
that correlate to the metaphors
those aphorisms of thought.
Here beside you
The residue of promise seeps
and double dips into the erosive state
and I comprehend a deeper impersonal you.

The soft lips
those eyes that glitter to the sparkle of life
ever held the patch of pain
that bore deep the emotional self
and destroyed the world.
Yet there too
where the darkness held the sway
You lay silent to the night
hushed in fearful dreams
That still contains that pit of sorrow.

When you look at me
I can envision it all
detect the corrosive run
that stems from the child within
harbours to the silence of your eyes
and speaks between and through
every word, sentence upon which you draw
and there I read you.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
There's a cold Creole cry
that steeps from the underside of the moss
those thick recesses where, the water bridges tight to the banks
and even when the haunting moon fades upon its shades
there is always a cast of eerie chills that invade the frame.
The long lonely, half depressed, half unawakened  strolls
that never quite lead anywhere, yet always ends by the bank
where the water calls, these deep muddy swamps
that awaits in the hopes of a lost soul to enter
to step beyond the boundaries.
There is stew in these waters
a thick haze that fills and the scent it leaves
clings always upon the clothes, hugs so tight the breath, that
no matter how far one strays, it always calls one back.
Trees that have no roots, skeletons cloaked
hinged in the thick ivy moss that scatters from limb to limb
The cries, urgent, fearful, that echoes through the thick undergrowth
gathering in Voodoo curses the humid air to dance, dance
where the imagination clings and hides, Yet! Dares to know more.
It is a long walk, one, that time cannot gather nor hold
where the fields seem surreal to the charged air
and the night falls like lotus blossoms upon the water
to float away where tides to the Delta stray.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
She roams through my mind
in combustive states
that dissolve the elusive run,
melts the *** to her honey
invades the forefront
charging the grounds of my thoughts
Invigorating the new.

Dazed, baffled,
I wake to her sunshine
drenched to her love,
How direction finds us
draws us close, subdues us
with little worlds, big thoughts
these concepts of women
That change ever our horizons.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
She roams through my mind
in combustive states
that dissolve the elusive run,
melts the *** to her honey
invades the forefront
charging the grounds of my thoughts
Invigorating the new.

Dazed, baffled,
I wake to her sunshine
drenched to her love,
How direction finds us
draws us close, subdues us
with little worlds, big thoughts
these concepts of women
That change ever our horizons.

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 **** 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 ****** 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
The Christ man hangs with head cast down
Cloaked is his Hebraic looks with western charm
A Blond, blue eyed, fair skinned Messiah
On aged beams that torture his archaic form
Hanging always before the eyes, before the mind.
Crafting his Image within their sanctuaries
Giving face and character to a new God
His form drawing the respect of it's new converts
Awakening the archetypal symbology of their minds
Their ancient pagan deities, now reborn again
into the Pauline Christianity of elaborate faiths.
It's Massive Empires and political powers
That would staunch the individual rights
Corrupting with the torments of eternal damnation
Hording the flocks of the ignorant and the rich
The Church becoming Lord and master of the Christ.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Enchanted I
by a Lianasidhe
Caught like a fish
upon a lure of bonnie smiles;
Bewitched by all her craft
that ever before me stands.
Enchanted I
by two deep pools of blue
and hair, gold and Ivory entwined,
by cameo silk, moon glossed skin
fragrant, warm, inviting
evoking the tempest of my passion.
Enchanted I
By some form of witchcraft
Spun by forces beyond my depth
and I like a fly to the web,
helplessly await to be devoured
consumed spirit, flesh and body.
Enchanted I
by what work of Gods' involved
to send swiftly that ancient arrow
that flies from cupids bow so straight
to engulf the beats of this heart,
draining the soul drop by drop
till all that is me within her dwells.

Enchanted forever,

Enchanted to you.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
A Liannasidhe is a fae of the celtic realms that haunts the thoughts and dreams of men, the male version would be a Gean Cannach. Fairylovers-succubus and incubus in greek mythology.
That I love you,
these little caresses of words
that I bring upon your ear
undress my thoughts there to bear
You upon my dream.
Is there anymore to life than this,
the soft sweet bud of your kiss
that fills me so to the brink
of all that love means.
Dreams in streams
that always holds you upon my breath,
before my eyes, there sighs
the soft delicate image of you
that fills ever to the want
that desire, that inward fire
that here consumes me in a dance
of love's tender romance,
that here is shared, dared
to fill our world, dreams and eyes
to the night's soft passion, the cries
that are of you and me combined
where love grips strong
that song
that wings and flutters true
From my heart to you.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Where tips the moon
the cradle rocked
the silver gleam
the twilight pools
that soft to embrace
holds, then fades
to the glimmer
that shimmer
of a frosty moon.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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 open its core.

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
As upon the hills I climb
Where mighty hawk hovers above
where the cliffs race to the sea
To those lochs that are ever 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 I'm 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 runs a foreign flow.

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
Jiggle a notion of the Hieland brew
that swells from Scotland's crispy dew
To fill hearts a plenty with joy and song
Scot's Whiskey born wild and strong.

Swallow that liquid of golden honey
down your gullet to warm your tummy
Then know you drank the breath of Gods
a fiery brew you drunken sods.

Crisp as a cold wind against your lungs
Hot as the temper upon your tongues
Whiskey,Whiskey the Scotsman's drink
that lifts your spirits to the brink.

You'll find it where ever Scotsman congregate
Heiland Whiskey best drank straight.

-----Alisdaire O'Caoimph------
The spring's winds here in the south
hold the magnolia hint upon the air
The warm day's rays conquers the mornings chill
And the vapors of the day seem to dance upon the mind.
Seems all in Tennessee draws upon its hush
The little market stores holds the laid back expression
The old men still linger around the corners
with the chewing tobacco stains the pavement
And all the while the sun beats upon beat
the blazon rays of a springs radiance
and drops upon the frown of an offer
Of sweetened tea and apple pie.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
That here in this twilight
where the Sun fades upon the gloaming hours
I draw my thoughts upon her form
where heart to mind amidst the storm
calls her name out upon the darkened skies.
for the want so great that fills my skin
the desire so burns deep its flame
That all I can do is dream a dream
Hope a hope and echo a prayer
That beside her will find me there
To hold the vision, the wanting need
to be always around and within
The structures of her day.
Is it strange or wrong to want as much
To feel the need within pang upon its cry
This delight that some how holds upon you
The texture that is my soul.
Love, this want, this need
here so gathers upon the mind
and rushes out in such a way
As to fill my world so bright.
Its not that I'm lost to you
that these feeling consume to much
Rather that in the fringe of my being
I understand, Know deep
This love longs your keep.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Down the predestined path my friend
we all walk as friends or enemies
such is the journey of life,
Voices echo through the empty corridors
like the winds breeze flowing across wild seas
Words of love mingle with those of hate
thoughts of good become but reflections of Evil
and we still continue to journey blinded.

The years,the days, but a glimmer of fate
Nations of people,tribes of traditions
calling to each other with voices of threads
and we pull at the strings to gain favours
Collecting our wealth as a weapon
and all falls silent before the mighty pen
Structures confine there realities
blanking out all other dreams and views.

Dust mingles in the rain,as do our hopes
colliding indifference's of home and breed
We shatter the foolish vision with our own uncertainties
crafting our thoughts upon those elemental minds
Taken all that which is natural
replacing them with the modern dream and hope
Some how, believing our dreams to be theirs
a continues mixed emotion upon our planetary plane.

The Gods now fall silent before us
they fail to utter their heavenly decrees
And we portray our mighty Lord and sovereign
upon all and any that can benefit our cause
Once Blue skies now appear musky and gray
Yet,We still fool ourselves as to its beauty
This Globe of Home,our Hearth
lays as wastelands to our goals and dreams.

And here before you lays the words of a humble Poet
reflecting upon the waste and ruin of our times
dried up and gone are all the worlds heroes
No longer is a Saviours face to enlighten our eyes
We have become that which even our fathers feared
that darkened figure of pestilence and decay
Yet with each brush of our economic pen
We whitewash the truth and reality we face.

Are we to sit silently,just watching
that and those that mean so much to life
Do we cut off the hands of the starving brother
when it reaches out for our surplus?
Where do we become so important
what fades within us if not our souls,
Tears encircle the hemisphere look and behold them
The Ghosts of mans conscious haunts his every dwelling.

Where does it end, where did it begin?
Does it simply pass like the ticking of a clock
and of course we all proclaim our innocence
be not fooled, lost nor caught in your mere delusions
Reality shall continue,even when man is long gone
The Stars shall shine as brightly,
the Sun as Warmly
but it shall have lost one of its greatest treasures
that great homosapien that cried before all existence

---------------I AM-----------
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 within these arms you 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 is gone.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Sitting up in the attic room
with things forgotten, out of bloom
A china doll of antique grace
with porcelain cracked and ***** face
Ringlets of golden honey hair
in a velvet burgundy dress long past care
Little hands open in out stretched arms
Portraying all the grandeur of Victorian charms.
Sitting atop a wooden box
beside a clock that never tocks
Around her lays all that is forgotten
Pictures,Toys, wool and cotton.
Belongings to another time and place
things that once came please and grace
A painting that upon a wall did stand
A trumpet that once Jazzed a band.
Saddened all to the timeless lack
They fill the Attic, every nook and crack.

On nights when the full Moon's light is there
when its magical rays through the attic's windows fare
The Little Doll's eyes do twinkle
where Moonbeams fall and sprinkle.
Granted if but for a moment
the doll that has long lain dormant
Awakens with a child like giggle
where memories within her tingle.
The Clock is given a moment in time
to tick a second, sound a chime
While down stairs the family talk
unknowing what above their heads does walk
However, every now and then upon the full Moon
A sound they'll hear in the Attic room
No sooner than they open the door
the magic ends what powers did soar
As they peer into what lays dead and still
a tingle up their spines does fill
For there Sitting upon her wooden seat
with arms out stretched and bare feet
Bella awaits the next full Moon's shine
When the clock shall tick and again shall chime.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
The blood flows deep within it's wondrous paths
and recalls the depths of this my soul
For within this article of flesh and of bone
Is contained the threads of the eternal Past.
As I master of the forefathers come forth
Crowned in their animalistic glory
heightened by their evolutionary growth
Hence, I become their grandeur, their perfection
Of all, yes all their physical Characteristics.

For here within flows the blood of the ancients
Of Celtic Kings and brooding peasants
Of high priests, Bards and drunken old loafs
For I am the blood of my father's and more
For I am beyond their recall;
Established for the uniting principle of body, of soul
Under direct observance of cosmic law.

And when i dream whether fantasy or fact
some prevails from those ancestral vibrations
while others, far separated through
time and space
Calls upon and funds the primal essence.
No matter how deep the passions flow
or to whom is given the perceptive
neither is accepted within the throngs of the master
Whether giving or taking, adsorbing or projecting.

It is none other than the illuminating essence of man
caught between reason and all that lays forgotten;
For these do the ancestral cults of the old ones proclaim,
and true, they hold our roots deep within
How could they not, if I am of their blood, thought and form!
Of tribal beats upon skins of sacrificial cries
Of elders, priests and God-kings vanquished
and in the depths of my perceptions of them
I evolve along similar lines to what they foretold.

I perceive here today, within and without
the pools by which swarm the matter of human clay
formed upon the potters wheel of karma's evolutionary song
and passed on from generation to generation that tune,
whereby one sees within the child the Father, the Mother
and therein the words of Father times ancient song
That echoes upon the consciousness of reality and sublime
The very first thoughts of Ape-man to his horizon.

It is that cycle that never ends,
Its circumference extends throughout all time
And unites them all within the first ones breath.
It is called the circle of the ancients
Cast upon the molten rocks of tradition
and ironed out amongst the blacksmiths of civilization;
and when its Orbs cease to move and the blood ends its flow
When our horizon fades into mere thoughts.

At that time, in that space, upon that concept
then here too shall the ancients be, with you, with me
Facing that future, that silent moment
when existence ends and all prevails
To a single deep profound thought.
Gentile, Jew, Aryan, Asian, black or white
all void, save for that single breath
that proclaims throughout time into eternity
"I O'Man, I O'Man, I O'Man."

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
In the early morning air
between the Londonderry hush of dreams
and the cry of Belfast on a weary morn
Where saddened eyes embody the twilight haze
of long past marches, the bewildering blaze
Of Beltane fires that scorch the hills
The world shudders to the battle cries
where brother to brother the war pitch fills
the saddened visions that over spills
That a Gaelic tongue can curse its own
To the bitter harvest of the Gael
That wipes away the blood dew
from these fields from which it grew
and damns itself in the pain and sorrow
That relives this war on every tomorrow.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
It robs me
as sure as any villain
This moment, this time
dressed upon itself
laying in wait, the second
when snatched away
It steals my heart.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
It's strange for me to think
that some women see me as their missing link
"By God" says I "They're blind
If I'm the best that they can find."
For I'm not a man of eloquent charm
nor one with protruding muscles in my arm
No seductive tongue nor Golden locks
Only words that the English language mocks
Definitely no Greek God would stumble so low
with my physique,the world to show
Just plain as plain ever could be
if they truly had eyes they'd see
I'm far from the **** wooing body
but rather fleshy and fairly stocky
God knows by pound or stone I am
of greater wealth than beef or ham
"But if it suits them Lord
Who am I to disagree!"
So welcome Women for all you care
of freckled Skin and receding hair.

---Alisdaire O'Caoimph---
Where the blue of sky
tosses the dream within ones eye
and opens the pastoral fields of life
amidst the strife, the rife
that here upon the land bears
the tormented moments, the smiles
that crossed the miles and miles
where frontier pried open the dream
upon these wildest green
fields of their prosperity.

They journey a faith
a belief
and took life as would a thief
into their own rights of being
freedoms expanse there abound
gathered round
the old stories of their homes
Miles away, miles away
from where the root and birth
did inspire
here within them that desire
to reach out and there grasp
the very breath of which they gasp.

Time draws fast the privileges few,
herein drew
the straws of fate
the opened gate
to shower as best destiny it can
the prospects within each human hand.
History retells the story
praises the great with the holy
and draws the prospering fields a plenty
of the days of man threescore and twenty.
To cry into this wilderness , here their name
forgotten sons of forgotten fame.

Birthed now the dream
where grass of blue
filled the hue
of the Kentuckian.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
I remember a bright summer's day
When the light seemed brighter more alive
and filtered through the branches of a huge Oak
And danced a sacred dance around the daisies beneath.

I heard a chorus of bird at play
watched them jump and fly from twig to twig
and somewhere in all this subtle perfection I,
Became lost in a world of neither regions.

It was here, that from within the edges of the wood
That all of a sudden life sprang like a fresh new breath
and I saw the perfection of every molecule of life
In radiant blaze and glory, filling, Filled.

I saw long past horizons arise and fade
at the speed of but a blinking eye
and all around in song Nature cried her deepest
Till swaying to the winds gentle toss, I awoke.

I stand firmly upon these ancient formless fields
That are filled with the core of man's Soul and blood
Joining us all in some sort of eternal rendition
Of all that life was meant to be.

Faded sighs hush the lullabies
of those that fell for the love of her
Casting upon the circles of formulation
The dreams of destinies child.

It's not oft that the world can so freely give
All that it's essence holds and draws
But once in a blue moon, or a strange summer's day
Life awakens to someone.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
That I miss you
Oh! How faint these words are to the truth
That without you, I lay empty
alone to the charge of night and day
That you are as a whisper
constant to stray upon my mind
harbour deep within my dreams.
The longing I hold
stretches out across the miles
wages myself against myself
In a battle I never win,
For it's all that I dream
There beside you-holding
wanting to feel your warmth against mine
The need to be, really be
That somehow deep you draw me too.
It's the soft touch of your hands I feel
when these eyes of mine close,
The smell of your hair, your skin
That fragrant aroma of life.
It's the love in your eyes
that calls me from the depth of my Soul
That I love, most devotedly, most holy
these moments, days and nights
That seem to pass so fast
Themselves a dream.
I miss you
where my heart beats
this soul of mine resides
There, here, before you
Always to confide
That which love so speaks.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Baruch ata adonai elohainu melech ha-olam she-hakol nee-yah bidvaro
Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the universe through whose word all things are called into being.

God called, God Formed, God made--the three levels of man Soul, Spirit and body.

The prayer

From heart to heart
the words intoned
The spirit bridges
bears fast the soul
Awakens the moment
Grasps God's hand and cries
That deliverance fills
The healing consumes
That whole to whole
all bodies bound
Three in one
the spirits sound
The Soul true
The spirit awakened
The body whole
It is this O' God
That I seek and pray
Thy will be done
and done thy will.
Let hands guided
thoughts embraced
Hearts true
ways pure
Fill and gather
awaken and fulfill
My Star to shine
her brightest hew

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
My words
that here etch upon
lay black upon white, the thought
that form that lingers silent amongst
those cushioned membranes of mind.
Whisper, and sometimes cries
so deeply from within, without
Into a world of being whereby I see
all that you are.
There where the night plays
in feathered dreams
the world readdresses itself
and here in the sweet pantomime of plays
I understand the depth.
Dark the hushed embrace
wherein I trace
those remnants that are of you.
That I touch, reach out to hold
grasp, a little more than indeed I understand.
It is within these boundaries
that stress the points of being, seeing
That I fall to the whim of the moment
the torment that resides
longing to know you more.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Nashville lights, twilight sights
The dancer's dream, the faded stream
perfumed ally, vagrant sally
The words that call, the deadly fall
Embraced indifference, padded surveillance
The silent dreams, The nightly screams.
Whispered messages, diluted references
Fresh bound hopes, depravity copes
indecent alliance, vengeful compliance
dressed for show, momentum's flow
A southern will, the bitter pill
These little flickers that embrace
The dreams of fame's tormented face.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
"O' Circle O' ancient standing stones
        that excites the senses, chills the bones
        O' but to know the secrets contained in thee
        If but one secret, you'd give to me."

        When times were ancient, old and worn
        and priests,those Druids in secrets sworn
        To cast like Merlin amongst the breeze
        the secrets of Oak and Rowan trees.

        The wise ones in circles of primal flame
        would cast and call upon the sacred name
        The elements would shake at this request
        knowing to well the Grails Holy guest.

        The Heavens would darken, the thunder's roar
        As lightning would strike into Earths central core
        The Sea's would rumble ,roar and over flow
        and all the Earth would shake wishing to know.

        The Sigil, the Talisman,what form it took
        What mighty symbol could life's foundations have shook
        "No mortal man this, with powers so grand
        Is Merlin but a Mortal,or a God upon the land?"

        For in Sacred groves under Beltane's flame
        come the cries of the Lords born without name
        and above the horizon, twined with the Moon
        arises the Heavenly Mother to her full bloom.

        Dance young Maidens,lease forth your cry
        come in songs O' joy, let your emotions fly
        Young Celtic warrior brave ,portray you your glory
        and give Honor to Honor, Holy to Holy.

        Look at Merlin, how he walks with the fire
        Filled with the passions of Life's true desire
        Watch him grow ,take wing and fly
        upon the breath of the Dragon ,in the sky.

        So set sail ye the soul, that ancient form
        and cast forth thy will into the depths of the storm
        Follow ye, the wind from the Sacred East
        and there meet the mighty man and priest.

        Release your bonds, set free your heart
        gaze within the depths of one's inner part
        Then take hold the maiden, Mother and old Hag
        Love them equally and do not sag.

        Give freely of thy spirit,receive nothing in return
        then come Earth's Child to the Stones to learn
        The secrets of secrets,within each of us one
        that by which all is cast and eventually is done.

        Then be you like Merlin and others before
        that have entered our gardens,Returned form behind it's door
        So fear ye none save yourself, that is the truth
        something one can never learn, while their mind plays in youth.

        But gather you together the strength of the will
        Once that be done, Son, then you shall we fill
        And the days shall sing of praises, the rain shall fall like wine
        Invigorating the Earth,making all once again mine.

        Such shall it be, the day a Merlin shall arise
        to relieve the pain and suffering of Man's stifled cries
        For we are the Ancient of Ancients,Born but with one name
        We are the keepers of the Soul's of Arianrod and Heaven's great flame.

        To whom ever dares, wishes or enters here
        Let him meet first his deepest darkest fear
        And should he surpass all tests and walk on through
        Then behold the cauldron of rebirth awaits you.

        For the Rod of Merlin shall await the one
        and the Crown of Dana,bold as the sun
        Then shall we come with hearts full and rich
        To teach our secrets, their tone, Their pitch.

        Alas, fulfilling the destiny we made e'er so long ago
        the returning age of Arthur, for all to Know.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
He has painted a thousand pictures
this dreamer of the dream
Mixed his colours, dressed his canvas
Sketched his adornment
laid paint to form
etched the shadows that fall
holds the captive perspective
and rain, pours down
from those emotional webs within
every angle and line
perplexed thought
layer to layer
blended to textures
He creates his universe
such simplistic lines
that here holds him upon its grasp
A realization
that from his works
everything is and was
but reflections of what he saw
Within her eyes.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
I seek the soft caress
where tales undress
your long smooth form
where fingers beg, torment and roam
Deep to the bone
Every hungered kiss,
demented bliss
That wages forth and cannot be denied
Where dreams engulf, sealed, cried
The budding lips that pour out
for the lingering want to tease about
Each scented flair that gathers the mind
Holds us tight there to find
Every combustive motion
of loves ****** potion
that wages deep upon our cries, the want
Better to tease, Torment, Taunt
Where eyes glazed, hovers and begs
another touch upon silken legs
the moments rush
the explosive crush
of tormented valleys
upon sensual galleys
where love to love
the wants rides above
All that holds the passion true.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
I seek the soft caress
where tales undress
your long smooth form
where fingers beg, torment and roam
Deep to the bone
Every hungered kiss,
demented bliss
That wages forth and cannot be denied
Where dreams engulf, sealed, cried
The budding lips that out pour
for the lingering want to tease, adore
Each scented fair that gathers the mind
Holds us tight there to find
Every combustive motion
of loves ****** potion
that wages deep upon our cries, that want
Better to tease, Torment, Taunt
Where eyes glazed, hovers, begs
another touch upon silken legs
the moments rush
the explosive crush
of tormented valleys
upon sensual galleys
where love to love
the want rides above
All that holds the passion true.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
How often
when the jingle of thoughts
here cross the great divide
that is of you and me
Little spaces
incomplete turns
that both rebel and yet
When the song is right
harmonizes so well
That we forget the differences.

Many the dreams that rattle
within our battle
of being
that we cannot negotiate a path
that runs finely
to the set patterns that are our lives.

But I remember
Know well
the inside out of you
The little glimpses that once were
are yet
and swerve to the marvel
of each image you portray
Somewhere despite the vast
that ride along side our dreams
I still know my sister.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Ah! But the turbulent cries of the ages
That here fill the mighty pen to wail
With hordes of unfulfilled reasons
And the weight of the mighty Veil.

Tribulations fills the mocking state
the anxiety that so envelopes but the form
Till gnashing is heard and quivering lips express
The guilt of the hearts great storm.

Pathetic creatures we surely become
When the gift of love so out bears our Souls
and lingering in faded anticipated halls
We come to grips with loves bitter blows.

Shudder to think the truth we carry
Each and every mortal, unending story
The faded cloth that once promised the world
Lays in the discarded rags of unfulfilled glory.

Then hearts weary from the toil of life
Begs Death its silent slumber of peace
As if here in the grave we are finally free
From the sacred love, That golden fleece.

Pity the hearts torn ever asunder to
The quickened lip and desirous body
That fast to gate the heart so sallies
To rest amidst loves succulent valleys.

Till soon the eye perceives the lie
and torn from inside it bears its cross
To lay upon the weeping times of breath
And awaits hopefully some peace across.

We gather our world in triumph around us
Hold high our heads to the justification we believe
Yet! We fail the step where love holds the simple promise
And sadly we, but forever the loss, grieve.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
It starts softly
the gentle pluck of a string
that hums upon its own vibration
equating all to a note, a sound
Then flows softly upon the air
to tantalize the ear, awaken the mind
and sometimes deeper beyond compare
it touches the heart, romances the soul
Into its vibrant beauty
Consuming all to grace.

It is here I found you
in the soft recesses of your voice
that sang so deeply within me
awakened a heart to pump and drive
the mind to dream again and sing
such it is, when words and voice
equate to the resounding depth within
and hushes all to the profound moment
That love finally bears its coat
And walks humbly before the eyes.

Its in the whispers of nightly dreams,
we all bear them upon our midnight cries
that eternal want again to be
to come alive and feel the heart's great rapture
the souls desire to forever copulate its form
to the oneness that love so begs it be,
and here I hear the twilight winds
sweep clean and pure the fabrics of thought
where emotion drives fast and hard to tower through
Echoing its want, its need to be and feel.

I look deeply into your eyes
picture my universe anew
where sunsets and dawn stretch into an infinity
of promised dreams and future's bright comet's tail
that ever rings the value of your form here to me
and cries upon the tender most hopes
My hand in yours,
my soul bound and true
that love wakes that shuddering foundations of life
and allows its brilliance true its hue
Till lips touch
hands caress
and love sings it true melody of hope
That here now I see in you.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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