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Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
( Sonnet )*

In youth a girl once appeared to me
And joy out made drawn faces station,
Each moment loveliest grant of dream
All days a burst in thirsty celebrations

And for eyes set a buzz to insects flung,
Time lapped its circle of blessed waves,
On shores of pond we made truest love,
Iridescent beyond their sparkling trades,

Wetted lips rapt in late hatch morrows
And the moon lighted the shyest stars,
Never was hint of brood nor of sorrow,
In close after days now raining way far.

O why so fast did she come then desert,
Taking the whole of sweet sun with her?
Feb 2016 · 464
Zz Constellations
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Stars in dust wasteland
Seen once every seven years
Desert flowers bloom
Feb 2016 · 556
Estranged
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
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.
Feb 2016 · 503
Anatomy of a Tree
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Its form was made for sky,
Reaching into hung heavens.

In the amniotic soils are blood
Veins of bone becoming root.

At the earths breaking is light
Green within the sprouts barking.

To the golden sun on its journey,
The trunks ring into skies praying.

More leaves do come as everlasted
Springs in new revolutions of years.

All the twined branches are knotted
As they grasp the blue firmaments.

And scriptures of heavens proclaim,
Here be journaled leaves, life seeding.
Feb 2016 · 855
Catatonia
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
There is no awakening.  Outside the cave
Light shadows in the sun, a blinding
Muck veils desolation in the vein-bled,
Good men, stumps of the naked forests,
And bird song drowned by the droning dead,
Ignoble, this is no country for old men.

In the open, all lie freely, lacquered clean
Sunning social graces, shine pornographic,
Know truth is real yet, embalmed by speakers,
Pages, their flame a cross, churning in a mire,
Our glass cities run time mendaciously silent;
The euphony of the untruths, the bent sign.

In Catatonia words are watered but never
Change, sapped of meaning, seasons fall
By the handy green, the spring leaves, tipped
Off balance scaled to autumns teeming news;
The barren shores, breaks, bless the vacuum
Tubes, and pray a curse, fawn the head lamps.

In the homeless land anxious creatures divide.
The concrete utterance is picked to rubble.
The stones ground into sand and we ringing
In delight, moving mandrake, mobile cadavers,
Orbit to satellite are digging babylon down
In the false hood, ****** by the mortar.

The ruin architects mark, fork millions
Of tongues in tributary, as does a great
River from a stony source.  The sterling
Feed their stock with tainted food, plants
Regenerate the mangled codex twining-tare;
Throws the babe with baptismal waters.

In the soulless land children peak abandoned,
They fall on temple steps by the golden mean.
We pattern the sky in the bold fabric of pity
And mercy but the strands fade out running;
Our cruel and only kind would rend the stars,
Would fallow Elysium, bleed gold to the vein.

How did we end mortal under the divining
Sun?  Down base our provident ways watching?
We wave in fealty to the dominion of spins
And shadow, gussied Gods so proudly made,
Desolate, vain, air escaping to whisper;
We are sailing from Byzantium.
Feb 2016 · 595
5 Contemplations
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
( Haiku )

1
Peace on Pond

Sun frog so centered
Sitting on whole world a buzz
Lily pads flowering



2
Heads in Sand

Dramas of mankind
To what nature has in store
Heats of long winter



3
Deluged

In the rains of spring
Love drenched in joys true cleansing
Only memory stains



4
Out in Opens

Chaste lovers scratch free
Insatiable love makings
Bees in briar patch



5
Saviours

In heart of gardens
Angels arrive after storms
Little wings beating
Feb 2016 · 507
Fields of Bloom
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
( Sonnet )*

My love beamed back to heavens overrun,
In a field where we stood so held in light,
As radiance teemed, our crown of sun
And never again was any day so bright.

Never were flowers too alive, so moving,
As we, they blanketed the fields of youth,
A memory set in starlights of blooming,
Our innocence eternal, O such beauty!

But bliss became loss caged in that one day
And light was shed from a gift to a sorrow,
Luster of dream, once held, now so faraway,
Only memories of image, dim light to borrow,

How spark of bliss fades in young sun, so soon
Lovers overrun, once held, in fields of bloom.
Feb 2016 · 1.7k
Dublin Poem
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should

You query, her name's a pond.  In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin.  Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan.  Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent

Stones.  Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,

Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies

Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew.  O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right

To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon

The doons.  In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Baile Átha Cliath is the Irish Gaelic (gaeilge) for Dublin (the capital city of Ireland). Translated into English it means The Town Of The Hurdled Ford (Baile = Town, Átha = Ford, Cliath = Hurdle).

Anna Livia, Anna Liffey, The Liffey (An Life in Irish) is a river in Ireland, which flows through the centre of Dublin.  The river was previously named An Ruirthech, meaning "fast (or strong) runner".  The word Liphe (or Life) referred originally to the name of the plain through which the river ran, but eventually came to refer to the river itself.  It was also known as the Anna Liffey.

In modern usage, a céilí (pronounced: Kay-lee) or céilidh is a traditional Gaelic social gathering, which usually involves playing Gaelic folk music and dancing. It originated in Ireland and Scotland, but is now common throughout the Irish and Scottish diasporas.
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Feb 2016 · 471
Zz Flower Child
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Set free in meadow
From her palms a butterfly
Then— my heart captured
Feb 2016 · 894
Falling Star Sonata
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
In the absence of her—
The night is long and I am still,
Breathing in the vacant minutes
That fade and fall only to reappear
When least unbidden, when only lost
In droning dream my heart is bleeding,
For final days to come, if only as delusion,
I wait for the bewitching hours of drunken wine
And tearing rose, until it falls, all goes running,
Her voice like apparition comes, so sensual
Are the hours— that long for the body of her
Voice, the crisp cantatas of her woken eyes,
The blush and the strums of her fingers, fey
As they mercilessly play with mortal mine,
In these last, longing hours I am— as I was,
Heir to her voice, now, so— we alone toast,
To my spare thee, red haired 'Green Faery,'
Honored lost, sweet angel of my horror,
“Le Fin Absolue du Monde.”
This praise is my principality, echoes of moors,
Stations, entrenched by murky moat, modes
Of funereal reds— maddening strands of her
Strange hairs breath, false songs, by forte
Nights, wounds, crowning lips of thorn
As they flower and smoke me out.
How do I fear but do not dread,
Regaled in crest fallen silences,
My deathly aubade of days?
Feb 2016 · 462
Zz Saviours
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
In heart of gardens
Angels arrive after storms
Little wings beating
Feb 2016 · 708
Black Bird
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
I see myself in you—
With a spike we two spoke out,
Vagaries of wind, verisimilitudes
And the moon gives us her light.

Black bird, black robed Druid,
We both are spinning round
The hills draped in psalms
Of the oak and windy leaves.

Your words, I hear, go unsaid,
My utterings babble, ring in a rill,
Cold and cascading to mosses,
Bleeding from a lone escarpment.
Feb 2016 · 757
Out in Opens
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Chaste lovers scratch free
Insatiable love makings
Bees in briar patch
Feb 2016 · 516
Zz Deluged
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
In the rains of spring
Love drenched in joys true cleansing
Only memory stains
Feb 2016 · 601
Heads in Sand
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Dramas of mankind
To what nature has in store
Heats of long winter
Feb 2016 · 442
Day in the Life
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Groping out of bed,
Keep the sun at bay,
Mirror eyes look red,
Soft in morning glaze,
Shower waters said:
Thank the sun, amaze,
Splinters in my head,
Silent verse word play,
Morning ends, I'm fed
Sweet caffeine au lait,
Later beers— instead,
Wine, my guitar flays,
Splinters in me head
And all ends up paid
As time revolves dead,
Poems making grade,
Song and music bled,
That is my bed made,
Staving off the dread.
Café au lait (French for "coffee with milk") is a French coffee drink.
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Feb 2016 · 740
Zz Breathtaking
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Joy after party
How she could light up the room
Evening dress falling
Feb 2016 · 607
We Were As Downy Birds
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
We were as downy birds,
Sky once had names for us,
Rain pooled into faery wells,
Supernatural was our blood.

We saw each with opened eyes,
And touch was permanent as sun,
Light swooned about our keeping
And the earth was without tomb.

But time soon railed its perishments
And a star turned with pointed wind,
We lost the sun raise of innocence
And the glass of truth broke in a jar.

Now, lovers roam in the still hollows
And reminisce only on stoney banks,
A great ocean of peace was drowned
And to childish walls, a castle of sands.
Feb 2016 · 444
We Once Walked Along
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
We once walked along lonesome strands
And the ocean waved its open ceremonies,
The simple sands stretched warmly our feet
And the moon was hiding beneath the sun,

We once stopped to embrace as we stood
And time was thrown, over to eternal kiss
And the ocean rolled in newest christening,
So long ago by those days of salt and mist.

When, came the stars that swooned above,
Our little hands swung— in a knot of love.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
1
In the corner stands
My blue guitar,
Mirrors my grimace.


2
I have played you
So like dream was the dear song
Where you playing me?


3
Your body makes mine
Shudder as I imagine
A woman in my arms.


4
At the top of your body
Are keys unwound at the ready,
Silver spirals of tunings.


5
My soul is near hollow
But the blue guitar
Is filling in the foundations.


6
What makes the blue guitar
So shining in the mundane,
All the world is makeshift.


7
My fingers wet with you,
What water sounds like,
As it kisses the earth.


8
Deep in the strings
I summon my being,
Always blue as sheer sky.


9
Blue guitar, silent, singing,
My fingers ***** your neck,
Never do you scream.


10
Once I heard music,
The sweetest tabulations
Of sorrows in rosewood.


11
My fingers ache on steel,
These are your moved guts,
Strings that I borrow.


12
At an open window,
All the day obtuse,
I hear birds in your vibrations,
Untouched air of blue guitar.


13
I do not know anything,
Music is lathed on an open fret,
The heart is beating to a note of bliss,
Hole set in the body braced by wood,
Time cuts as it is sectioned, a staff fires,
All the chords are listed in primes,
Is the ear a window or is the eye,
Blind in the choral songs we make,
All things are ephemeral, wonderings,
Variations we work as structure fades,
As the blue guitar is touched, turning light.
Feb 2016 · 474
Smoked in Poppyhead
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
We drove to wild poppy fields,
Lost and open under the sun,
To picnic in solemn, spent wonder,
And celebrate new found love.

Gentle rain came blowing in—
The sky painted a clouded mood,
And old mist rose in lighted heat
A gentle sheet of covering dark.

We then broke down to take leave,
Our lent time was now dead—
There under the cathedral of sun,
Our love smoked in poppyhead.
Poppyhead: a raised ornament often in the form of a finial generally used on the tops of the upright ends of seats in Gothic churches.
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Feb 2016 · 505
Outcast
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Many years alone
Suddenly— old thoughts of her
Lone raven in sky
Feb 2016 · 524
Winter Pass Over
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
.
Light
Enamels the naked
Trunks, cleansing
Sun strikes

The unraveled trees
Bolted to frozen ground
And the leaves
Mosaic,

As any temple
Floor, iconic,
Pray, tell stories
Of turned seasons.

In winter
Snows come merely
To raw, all unwashed
And drape purity,

White as truth
And sparse is song
From only the most
Devout birds

Who with Hymn,
In the piped choirs
Of icicles, drip
Drop to blessed waters,

Anointing the soiled
Sinner ground,
Waiting for spring
Eternal.
Feb 2016 · 583
Fable of Folly
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Man made his house by rolling dirt—
Rock that was flung up from the earth.
Man then planted, course, grainy seeds
After nature made trees, fruits, and bees.
Man soon built fortresses, folds containing,
The weathers grew angry, gathering, raining,
So he fashioned bold cities built upon strands
And great ships laden with spoils command.
The oceans were quarry and the skies gave in,
The plains dried up, all animals were thinned.
And then— man imagined, if only the stars,
With nothing left, must we settle on mars?
Feb 2016 · 782
Deep in a Wood
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Spires shoot to the sky,
With branches, storied
And open as mercy.
In the roots, trees are tangled,
Their stance is pilgrimage.
Stones are markers of witness.
Pious boulders are breaking
Earth into a monument, strayed
About devotions, undiscovered
Tombs, wells and light— rains,
With eyes, pining thoroughfare,
The needles in the evergreens.
Morning is Magi mist, air, reeds,
And rolling dew of whirls colliding,
Some twining visions of Heavens,
Fell to earth, loamy and richly
Wrought, hints of purple and rose,
Thorny in the stations of bramble
And sorrels and in the palms of fern,
Joined in trinities of wild clover,
The sacred water beads—
Holy in the reborn cups
Of the chalice leaves.


                                        — *poem for St. Patrick's Day
A shamrock is a young sprig of clover, used as a symbol of Ireland. Saint Patrick, Ireland's patron saint, is said to have used it as a metaphor for the Christian Trinity.
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Feb 2016 · 693
Winter Chill
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Gentle sounds that jar as fog rolls in—
Blue Jays knock and forage in the leaves,
Days turn to nights in a cold winter rushing,
Atop a hill overlooking my disappering village,
Darkness is expected as always unwelcomed,
My guest that will not— not come— as I wait,
To hear the lone emptiness of a fog horn blow
From out there, incoming, pray old harbour
Bay. Is it an omen of souls landing or lost?
Feb 2016 · 571
Flame of Troy
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
A lone, lorn traveler
In silence and memory,
Writes to one flame at night
In a room where no answering
Appears, only shadows speak
With out lips to endear.  A lone
Traveler has time sutured to will
Cast in a tomb of what might have
Been.  He scrawls on chalky sheets
In the mausoleum of murk and dream,
His flame was once a face, real as now,
Filled with light unlike the later seasons
Of split rooms crowding.  So much of life
There once was to be lived, her flesh, burnt
Fertile, her eyes knowing promise, her blood
Red rains of hair, endless sojourns beyond myth
Or fable, a thousand barks, her swains over ocean
Silenced by her lips of love for you, only, a lone traveler,
Captain of all oaring ships launched from the plain shores
Of loss under a cliff so high, where his once long devoted
Before wrote a vow of love to all his follies, fates, travails
And gave her hand, to bloom of youths so glorious.
Feb 2016 · 563
Moon Harvest Under Wood
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
( Sonnet )*

Deep in the chalk of gloaming flame,
The tawn and pale, of moan and loon,
Where under leaves of forest shades,
The crescent rails of the riding moon,

Here is when the quick blood running
Drains with shear seepings and looks,
With eyes agape, small game stunned
Over pines and green hemlock wood,

The ferryman wings and clawing tears,
Whose silent strike and low red raking
Blasts unto an indifferent lane of peers,
This is the house of apparition's name,

A mages fugue, muffled muses reprise;
The **** song which creeps as sun dies.
Feb 2016 · 478
Zz Deluge
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
A kiss from her lips
Rolling thunder in the skies
No shelter from rains
Feb 2016 · 590
Flower
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
Dressing the day,
Beaming purely, on bankers
Hours, spinning such fine, spine
Wheel ways, painting the stones
Of grey, never so faraway, showing
Mighty, mirth in maddest Midgard,
Bearing blooms dizzily, trailing
All the new, children who play,
Pick and count, humming with faces
Bright as the late bedding stars
Joyous in the offered cheers
Of the crowning sun, gifts
All, in endless amount.
Jan 2016 · 13.8k
Zz Cleanliness
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Little wings flutter
Morning starts with eyes smiling
Birdbath needs filling
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
( Sonnet )*

When love was young and bore an immigrant
Soul, how fresh and adventurous the years
And brinkmanship, my rite, was took for grant,
Aye, in my flotsam and jetsam, I spent no tears
Which by and by a greedy sea of beginnings
Has left no bounty, but cargo delivered or turned
To wood adrift, which built but useless things,
Children love tossing in fires bonny burned.
Here I lie, on the waters edge, searching—
For something to contain my emptiness,
My wanderlust, but like shy waves lurching,
I wrestle now, toward land, not loneliness.
Though I spent my life as a flag unfurled,
A disembodied soul is without this world.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
.
Settled in days of wine without rose
And forever nows we trudged along,
Making our way to the ordinary
Greeting of the always new.
For we always knew, our time
Together was but a means,
Of make believes and almost
Alrights, a travelogue to nos
In destinations of plain, we spoke
To each other as if then never was,
We drank coffee in meeting places,
Where grown ups frequent as they
Barter to themselves, in cursory
Smiles and similes unsaid, for they,
As us, knew that no future would arrive                                                
As we numbered to each in numbness
Searching for one breakaway day,
Seeking to blind ourselves looking
For what was already, maybe there.
How timeless is a child in fantasy?
What play dates we revel in,
With others we do not know?
This is a song we played, we played
At being joined, as if our lives
Depended on it.
Jan 2016 · 661
5 Supernatural
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
( Haiku )*

1
Autumn Burns

Fall of memories
Past potentialities
All the red lit leaves


2
Crowning

At end of all days
Sky is regal vermillion
Mellow is the sun


3
Sweet Spot

O what pleasures here
Deep down in her drowning ***
Joy wells echoing


4
Verdancy

Temptations glisten
Wants of youth burn in the sun
In moist grass growing


5
Bird Song

Speaking in God tongues
Sprite melodies in mid air
Leaved bushes burning
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Veined wings fell when I died,
Fell in mid flight on one last
May Day, on fire with the sun—
Only the dust knew me there,
It fell so gracefully with me.

A downy feather, once was—
Dropped from on high, before
A great white falcon turned the air,
Even thought to prey or of stooping,
Of noble birth was I, falling earthward.                                                        

One dry— red, pine needle fell,
Lost in thick piney bed of so many
Others strewn on the forgotten said,
The wind as it unceremoniously fled
And now no path was leading there.

At one grassy edge of a ******—
Bay some gravel clay gave way
To form a place where water, airy,
Lolls and eddies into tiny whirlpools
This was all the dance of my days,

Only the dusk knew me there—
And the unobserved eclipse going
Through all its phases and a forest
Fired, under clovers without bees,
Veined wings— fell when I died.
Jan 2016 · 602
There is a Heaven
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
.
There is a heaven in the low gardens—
A brighter way among those who will toil,
And deepest music wafts above and below,
The songs in bird are like the colours in flower,
In green alms of tendril arms so aimed to disarm,
Are petals of flag, wings wanding, reign of pollens,
Flowers loud, entreating as birds calm— release us
And always, beams of sun shower those with light,
Many who come are want to linger— everlasting,
The heart is there— on wing with soul learning.
Jan 2016 · 563
Bogman
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Ruddy and worn,
Dusted by turf and salt,
Sun rose cheeked and blue
Clouded eye spurt in a gait
Ended by mute journeys and toil.
He breaks the long day with a shove
As the old pocked door is waiting to be
Opened.  At the crowning stand of the bar
He orders his Craic, some froth of tar, his black
Medicinal and when the tales of tall pints grow, sinking,
Live, flickering light slows and smoulders, shoulders with moist
Embers of smoke trailing by with an impromptu céilí and all is brilliant,
Blind, awful and right, cast in the sprite, spirited dance of the verbal swirlings.
"Craic", or "crack", is a term for news, gossip, fun, entertainment, and enjoyable conversation, particularly prominent in Ireland.  It is often used with the definite article – the craic. The word has an unusual history; the English crack was borrowed into Irish as craic in the mid-20th century and the Irish spelling was then reborrowed into English.  Under either spelling, the term has great cultural currency and significance in Ireland.

In modern usage, a céilidh or ceilidh ( pronounced: kay-lee ) is a traditional Gaelic social gathering, which usually involves playing Gaelic folk music and dancing. It originated in Ireland and Scotland, but is now common throughout the Irish and Scottish diasporas. In Irish it is spelt céilí.
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Jan 2016 · 566
Slipping Into Seas
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
.
We breathe so lovely,
****** in ******
Waters held so deep
In a body of flesh.

This cave is under,
In pressures of hope
Beneath even air
The sun is knocking.

The babe is tided
To a rope of dreams
Waiting in dull room
Lighted by sheets.

Tiny fingers tower
In the shroud of wetted
Being and eyes see
Blindedly closed.

Now the spirit dries,
Must leave waters hug,
Voices carry beyond,
We trudge into light.

Solution to unalive
Is life naked and crying,
Water breaks and we drown
Into the shut world.
Jan 2016 · 748
We Made Love As Strangers
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
We made love as strangers—
Do when they eye each other
Separately intimate in a rush,
Our bed was a rack we made
Tortuous and flesh— revealed
As it gave into itself, the moon
Conspired in our dominations,
As we suffocated in the breaths,
Way down sips, of earthy heavens.
Jan 2016 · 2.3k
Trickster
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
( Loki )

1
All ills you have wrought
Mischief maker in the dirt
No shower will cleanse

2
Poor Woolfy Spirit
******* in actuality
You ARE Beryl Dov

3
Thor is your new name
Psychopath reinventing
Same old *** trickster

4
Who is following
The fortune cookie writers
Such lame phony names

5
Fragile ego here
Pages of Wolf and Beryl
Drama queens reeking

6
Even as he leaves
Tireless self promoter
Lowers the banal*


Note:  
Wolf Spirit IS Dire Wolf IS Toreanus Pinwinkle III IS Thor IS Beryl Dov IS ******* ( aka ******* ) Rabbi IS soooooo many others - a many-faced pest and pariah, previously banned on other sites for being stalkers and sociopaths !!

See:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1530102/wolves/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1516652/breach/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/832663/beryl-dov/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1527822/not-a-poem-an-open-response-to-wolf-spirit-and-wolf-spirit-dire/

Basically anyone who follows these massive-ego predators is probably them !!
good riddance PEST
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Jan 2016 · 866
From the Sky
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
The sea is a landing,
The mountains, but ribs,
Merely brittle, sandy mounds,
That cradle and rock, my song,
The oceans, bath water foaming,
My body is all encompassed
In void, in elements of feather,
Light as the rays from the stars,
The Great Lakes are puddles,
And all bands of the ancient
Forest are wrapped in a ball,
The world is a playful bubble,
Only one note from the music
Of the spheres, a loosed bauble
Born of sparks, cosmic clouds,
Breaking in the nebulas of blistering
Iris, exploding in the joyous eyes
Of a waking child.  

                             Yet, there is only
Now, I am, locked in a dreamhouse,
By a vast sea, on old branches of tree,
And, I can only look, grow, daze into
Shut mystic heavens and wonder.
Can I truly, only, live in dream?
My makeshift world is drying,
I am from sprinkled waters
Dropped like tears,
Graces that fell
From the sky.
Jan 2016 · 679
Hawk Over Hill
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Etched in smoke, burnished by olden sun,
The runner grasses wave below into maze,
For eyes in cloud to clutch on mottled vermin,
Higher in stations, a judgement for all grazer,

Pleated feathers arched in weightless stone,
Are blades as steely as any burnt ploughmans
And airs that break, lift hawk far into sun shone,
As quake of earth strikes up a still haired louse,

For blades of green shall call, bleed in grasses
And whisper will shout, downing smallest might,
Tiny beasts who crawl among waveing masses,
To hawk over hill, sheering in raiments of light.
Jan 2016 · 530
There Are Sullen Faces
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
There are sullen faces
That hide under cloud,
Only speak to nothings,
Land of creeping night
Grew from childhoods,
All that never hear was
A dance ever breaking,
Only feeling with eyes,
Tearing toll heavy lids
Yet, in childlike dream,
Some faces, they place
Spell joy in their gleam,
Some others have now
In daylight come clean,
Their song, playing on
Above the sullen ones,
Waltzing to new grave.
Jan 2016 · 586
Because We Could Not See
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Because she could not see—
Song in flower, light in lovers abed,
Dream unfolding as we touched,
Because her great beauty was gifted
It was unfelt, undeserved, shunned,
Making her even more irresistible.

Because I could not hold on to self,
Beside such dream, lost to my hands
As prints clutched into the ruin dark
Of her indifference, I made peace
With subjugation and humilities riven
Out of soul and flesh and hollow being.

Because we were unknowing, each
A foil unto ourselves as we cried—
This then was daymare riding in sun,
Twin delusions in oft reign of blood,
O what stories we both shall die to tell,
How the itch of desire scratches bare
Whole psyche as it writhes in a shell.
Jan 2016 · 456
Zz Choral Works
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Sun sings in morning
Music of light starts each day
Song birds joining in
Jan 2016 · 801
The Piper
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
.
From out of the smoke,
And impromptu silences,
A lone piper plays at reels,
Beyond the borders, his knees
In a trinity of keys, breaching
Low dun black ****** hearts,
The public house is enclosed
Out in the open, under a plow
Of mossy stars, peat and bog,
Wrapped, within chanters throat.
Jan 2016 · 838
Zz Anointed
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Seashells and castles
Imagination holy as the skies
Sea sprayed our faces.
Jan 2016 · 1.8k
Teddy Tales More
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
1
Sad Sack

Teddy bear outside
All dressed up without bow tie
Naked as a toy

2
shunned

Teddy bear on edge
With no child left to love you
This is rock bottom

3
12th step

Poor wee Teaddy bear
Out cold on bleak alley floor
Bottle beside you

4
Denial

Teddy bear so soft
You are all stuffing and warm
Homeless in alley

5
Redemption

Last chance Teddy bear
Garbage truck on trash day stops
Maybe recycle
Jan 2016 · 1.0k
Verdancy
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Temptations glisten
Wants of youth burn in the sun
In moist grass growing
Jan 2016 · 494
Teddy Tales
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
( 4 haiku to bear )

1
uncouth

Teddy bear, soft, warm
Milky, curly hair— pawing
Bear in lambs clothing


2
bottom

Teddy bear listless
Alley home, downward spiral
Fell— off his wagon


3
shameless

Teddy bear stone cold
Faced down in gutter, soiled—
Must have been some night


4
forsaken

Teddy bear alone—
Left in cold empty alley
Could use wash and hugs
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