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 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
Downy in a bed of cotton clouds—
Faraway under seas of coral and wave,
The maritimes of fair and lonely currents
Cast us away and dropped our weary souls
On a lost strand of some great ocean landing,
Circe appeared, was knowing, to greet us as we
Woke, led us to a citadel island above of the sky,
We dranked of thirst, her fey sweet potions in haste,
Made our way in flight to kiss misadventures escape
And mired in woods fell once again, innocent before
The dawning break of a greenly seeded eternal day,
Blue eyes born, became, in the spotted branches,
Freckled arms and barks of ever reaching hair
Praised in silence and timely mystic wanes
Quivered in peace like a yearling doe
As never leaves were blanketing
And the moon sang with toe,
Our eyes sank lowly, softly,
Only to spark upon tides
Of the glittering pools
With starry eyes
Glowing new
In the light
Of dear
Sun.
 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
Here I tread on a woodland promontory—
With wings and wind conjuring the rains,
All is vastness and shroud, open, empty,
Even the light is carried away in silence,
My flesh all but smearings on the tableau,
Foothold of dream within disrupted dream,
Our hands once reached out into forever,
Now my soul is seeping from veined cairns,
Cut chains, mist, rains hollowing the wind.
 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
.
The red-headed woodpecker drums,

Drilling hollow life into old pine tree,

Insects scurry in dance of spiral daze,

Robins waiting for the grubby entrails.
 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
You were my gift,
Soft, sweetness, little one,
Eyes of moon and ocean
Hills of creation, of shadow
And bread.  In your nakedness
I fled the earth and bathed
In starlight and dust at the end
Of the forever of the sky.  
In that silence,
Of exploding cosmos and vapour,
I fell, feeling in your smiles the suns
Decay, I felt light beyond
Its barrier, and was decimated
In the gravity of the neutron
Blue of floating eyes in separation.
Your faraway orbs were lost
To me in the frozen dark energy
Of shunted light and the cold
Vacuum of space.
It was my birthday
And you were set on leaving.
It was my birthday
When I nearly died.
 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
She was cold iron—
I smelled in her blood, elixir,
What made stars explode.
Massive stars go supernova when iron is fused. Iron is the final and heaviest element in the fusion process in stars. The core becomes heavy and cannot contract any more, the core collapses, rebounds of the surface and the star explodes as a type II supernova.
 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
We stalked and ran with endless time,
Knee deep in rains of muck, grew lost
In tails of the always new, overreached
By trammeled spots, dotting, red wings
From black birds, knobby toads, garter
Snakes that shocked, marigold swamp
And we bolted above ruddy moccasins,
As ever wet, holey, dying for new days,
Gleaming in the swelters of the horse-
Fly sun, in the giants' grasses, we were
Heroes by the falls of light, glow, dusky
Bold, joys travail and dewy eyes echoed
With sprite flashes by the flies that fired.
And all our conquests— writ in the wind.
 Apr 2014
Seán Mac Falls
I Hear All The Outlawed World

                        I

I hear all the outlawed world in harmony,
The marshling stalks the green and gaunt
Destroyers who heed not sparkling deserts
Charged to the gill, nor candles pitching down
Like doom.  I note the scale of fossils
In cloud covered peaks, record
The seemly count of bodies by square root
And irrational number, I am witness
Bound to bounty to all who blaze in gray
And shallow grooves seeding their ends
In strikes on the ripe and smoldering fields.

                        II

I see all the outlawed world in harmony,
Barking wood bracing by the bud,
Where runs of blue, bury in vain
Down slash of mountain forest, cascading
Into august, rising after the fall,
As do kind-killers blasting from shells
To die as snails creeping under flower,
Who saw the past wasting away
In filed futures, slipping by blades in neck
Of wood, sightless as gallows of trees
Try ****** each time they make their leaves.


                        III

I know all the outlawed world in harmony,
By seamless song of stuttering gulls,
As in conches, waves of providence,
Cell from the center, beating musseled shoals,
Where wailing ghosts and wing-tips point
Printed nails to the silent capes,
And bumble hairs comb round the broken yokes
Stirring streams of babble baited
By flowering psalms, engaging arms to prey
On tales told by the rood and drown
In eyes turning like sands on the sea.
 Mar 2014
Seán Mac Falls
Gray gathering  
Signs fell on the musty register.  Two pallid  
Faces infatuate, braiding the ley lines,
Were married in a dimly lit registry.
Outside, the sky in Dublin was a dark pool,  
The clouds were omen, birds, startled in  
Your eyes, a flashing flue of doves, all wings  
A warring coo, escaping into the dusk.

We walked a ways to that room of dreams
And dined in the Shelbourne’s Aisling room.
I was Ormond, I was Yeats and you  
Were gone. Your happy tears were notes singing
Our sorrows that day.  Our love was castaway  
Our love was time bomb.  Crossing stars, we trembled  
As we talked. Two birds setting sights on some  
Lost ocean’s horizon.  
  
                          When first we met,  
At the meeting hall, cradled in a tempest  
Eye, you gave me your name and it burned on  
The paper as it now burns in my mind  
Like Brigid’s fire.  At once, once, we were one.
Conjoined yet neither one of us a joiner.  
Anointed under the votive stars violently  
Innocent your heart, a spike, my heart  

A rail.  Our love was charmed, our love was time,  
Balm.  To what end this new beginning?
 Mar 2014
Seán Mac Falls
Founded in one fatal mission,
Where joy is merest rumour
And the two toned colours
Of dun flower are drowning
In sepia, where separation
Is touch, folded and kept
Like a lock of shocking red
Hair, fine grains in my eyes
Are stoning pebbles of grey.
Soft is the day and wandering,
Birds always sing, beaming
As they fly, rushing away,
I am stilted sound, hushed
In a vale shadow of whisper,
Flood lights of leaving ways,
Curtains to my moulded stage
And all the airs of outdoors
Mute, closed.
 Mar 2014
Seán Mac Falls
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers.  Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
 Mar 2014
Seán Mac Falls
Helios ****** his seed of light— Phaethon's act,
Pleasures born of pain, in the balled glass eyes,
Frees a moat of grey matter cloud, light crackles,
And one blue silent flash— mirrors zodiac skies.
The Phaethon story has often been understood to commemorate some great flashing event in the skies, whether comet or meteor. Everyone rushes by instinct—more accurately, habit—for a so- called natural explanation. But on examination, the case turns out not to be so easy. The narrating of the cataclysm may be fanciful and impressionistic, as if the poets enjoyed an emotional release from the regularity of celestial orbs . . .

"And the whole Skies were one continued Flame.

The World took Fire, and in new kindled Stars

The bright remembrance of its Fate it bears. . . "

                    — from, The Metamorphoses by Ovid
 Mar 2014
Seán Mac Falls
No rout, they did not let out a cry,
With veins of flame in swelling eye,
No word, could semble nor shutter,
The bumpy flesh tore into the light,

In nimbles of silence, nimby smoke
Smouldered by sidle of spent fires,
The house of future days was open,
Their ***** it hearts eternally closed.
 Mar 2014
Seán Mac Falls
Grafted birds in uproar—
And grey moorlands a fog,
The cacophony of orders,
Even turned earth a slog.

Highest heavens, all one,
Seeing with truthful eyes,
Black and white eagle—
Dispenses the blue skies.
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