"oisin" poems
THERE all the golden codgers lay,
There the silver dew,
And the great water sighed for love,
And the wind sighed too.
Man-picker Niamh leant and sighed
By Oisin on the grass;
There sighed amid his choir of love
Tall pythagoras.
plotinus came and looked about,
The salt-flakes on his breast,
And having stretched and yawned awhile
Lay sighing like the rest.
Straddling each a dolphin's back
And steadied by a fin,
Those Innocents re-live their death,
Their wounds open again.
The ecstatic waters laugh because
Their cries are sweet and strange,
Through their ancestral patterns dance,
And the brute dolphins plunge
Until, in some cliff-sheltered bay
Where wades the choir of love
Proffering its sacred laurel crowns,
They pitch their burdens off.
4.4k
THE CAMINO CHRONICLES
( Sidhe – Spirit, Ard Ri - High King, Tir na nOg – Land of eternal youth )
JUST A MOMENT AGO
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
Father in Time embracing Mothers Melody to rhyme
Birthing Sidhe candles smile, lights of love, souls glory
Stars dancing with joys release, Sidhe awakening to loves destiny
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
I stood upon Erins western shore amidst constellations considerations
And dreamed I had sailed again across the eternal sea
To Tir na nOg there returned to be
Oisin the Wanderer no more, ever seeking my beloved Naimh’s shore
Queen of the Sidhe, her consort again, Ard Ri of Eternity
Ah my heart demands my Sidhe sings of Naimh’s wondrous beauty. .
Her Eyes Like Twin Candles Dancing
Lips Full Of Mysterys Promise
Her Hair Bound, Crowned With Lustered Glory
A Smile To Die For . .
She Moves . . Sidhe Moves . . Like Poetry . .
Aie, Her Voice, Her Voice, Like Honey and Cream
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
When love was a rose without thorns
Before tides of centuries tears
Swept us apart
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
The glorious moment of our days glory
Our age of grace
Father in Time embracing Mothers Melodys Grace. .
INTO THE DARK
What does a candle remember . . .?
What does its flame recall . . .?
Aiee Aiee . . . Akhenaten Flee We . . . Nefertiti Aieee Aieeeee
Flee . .Flee . . . Undone We . . . Betrayal. .Flee Flee
Akhenaten Akhenaten . . . Must Flee We . . . Wee Wans Take
Nefertiti Holds . . . Flee We Must . . . Fleet . . . Flee Fleet . . .
Harps heart has chambers that sigh with grief
Ashes of roses burned with weeds
Remains of our loves day
Harps heart by hearts harp no music moved to test
Hall of memories by no one chorus caress
No whispered echo no candles smile no Nefertiti
NOW MY CITADELS HALL I MUST NEEDS MY IRE
RETREAT TO WHERE NEEDS MUST ABJURE DESIRE
Once more to recite survivals bitter creed
By heartstone embers to gnaw betrayals cold deed
WILL TO BEAR SILENT DEEP EMPTY DAY
HARP HEART STILLED
by no Nefertiti played.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
I SOUGHT a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last, being but a broken man,
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals were all on show,
Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,
Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.
II
What can I but enumerate old themes?
First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose
Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,
Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,
Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,
That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;
But what cared I that set him on to ride,
I, starved for the ***** of his faery bride?
And then a counter-truth filled out its play,
The Countess Cathleen was the name I gave it;
She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away,
But masterful Heaven had intetvened to save it.
I thought my dear must her own soul destroy,
So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,
And this brought forth a dream and soon enough
This dream itself had all my thought and love.
And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread
Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;
Heart-mysteries there, and yet when all is said
It was the dream itself enchanted me:
Character isolated by a deed
To engross the present and dominate memory.
players and painted stage took all my love,
And not those things that they were emblems of.
III
Those masterful images because complete
Grew in pure mind, but out of what began?
A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving ****
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.
1.6k
I
I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last, being but a broken man,
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals were all on show,
Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,
Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.
II
What can I but enumerate old themes?
First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose
Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,
Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,
Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,
That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;
But what cared I that set him on to ride,
I, starved for the ***** of his faery bride?
And then a counter-truth filled out its play,
'The Countess Cathleen' was the name I gave it;
She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away,
But masterful Heaven had intetvened to save it.
I thought my dear must her own soul destroy,
So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,
And this brought forth a dream and soon enough
This dream itself had all my thought and love.
And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread
Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;
Heart-mysteries there, and yet when all is said
It was the dream itself enchanted me:
Character isolated by a deed
To engross the present and dominate memory.
players and painted stage took all my love,
And not those things that they were emblems of.
III
Those masterful images because complete
Grew in pure mind, but out of what began?
A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving ****
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.
1.5k
THE CAMINO CHRONICLES
OISIN’S LAMENT
I CANNOT BEAR TO SAY FAREWELL
IF FAREWELL IS ALL THAT REMAINS TO BE SAID
THE FINAL SONG OF OUR LOVES DAY
1 CANNOT BEAR TO FOREVER HERE STAY
ALONE ADRIFT IN TIMES ETERNAL TIDE
ALONE, SO ALONE WITHOUT YOU BY MY SIDE
I CANNOT BEAR TO SAY FAREWELL
WHEN IN EVERY CANDLES FLAME I LIGHT
I SEE YOUR LAUGHING EYES YET SHINE BRIGHT
1 CANNOT BEAR TO FOREVER HERE STAY
WHEN IN EVERY TWINKLING STAR I SEE
YOUR MISCHEIFS SMILE SPARKLING AMID THE COSMIC SEA
I CANNOT BEAR TO SAY FAREWELL
FOR WITH EVERY SINGLE BREATH I TAKE
YOUR SCENT FILLS MY CHEST WITH FRESH HEARTACHE
I CANNOT BEAR TO SAY FAREWELL. .
I CANNOT BEAR . . .
SIDHE NO BAS
(SPIRIT NO DIE, WAR CRY OF THE CELTSIDHE)
SOUL ******
ALL DESIRE FLED
FROM HATE
I CUCHULAINN, MURDERER
THRICE CURSED HOUND
I SOAKED THE SOIL OF ERIN
WITH MY GREIF
I CUCHULAINN, ONCE SETENTA
PROUD WEARER OF LAURELS
FIANNA OF THE RED BRANCH
WARRIORS OF EIRIU IMMORTAL
I CUCHULAINN, ONCE GEATHA-I-MUIR
MAKER OF PEACE, HEALER OF ALL WOUNDS
COMPASSIONS SHEILD AND SWORD
AMERGHAIN-GLENNA-GLUN
I CUCHULAINN, THE THRICE ACCURSED
SON OF THE FATHER
WHO SACRIFICED HIS SON CAANAICELT
WHO SACRIFICED HIS DAUGHTER, AINE
I SLEW MY BROTHER, FERGUS-MAC-ALBA
I CUCHULAINN, THE BROTHER-KILLER
BROTHER OF THE SWORD, OF MY BLOOD
LITTLE PAIRSIDHE, TO MY HECTOR ONCE
I CUCHULAINN, THE LOST
MINION TO THE BEASTS LUST
WHO COULD NOT DIE
WHO SO WANTED TO DIE
I CUCHULAINN, OF THE ****** HAND NO MORE
FERGUS MY BROTHER FORGIVE ME
MY BEAUTIFULL BROTHER
I THANK YOU, SAORSIDHE
SAORSIDHE. . SAORSIDHE. .SAORSIDHE
(SAORSIDHE – LIT. FREE SPIRIT)
MEMORIES CANDLE
I GO
BE A MAN TODAY
THE ENEMY COME
FATHER
BROTHERS COUSINS ALL
CLANN, CHILDREN OF EIRIU
I GO
BE A SHEILD THIS NIGHT
FOR WANS WEE
FALLEN! SO MANY. .
HOLD! HOLD!
FOR LOVE OF EIRIU
HOLD! HOLD!
AIEEEE! WANS WEE
SIDHE NO BAS!
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
Valentines day,
out for my birthday
a few close friends,
a bag of dizz.
A plastic pig,
and a quiet conversation in the bathroom
with Rachael.
"Clara thinks I should see someone"
"I think you should too."
"But why?"
I didn't feel bad,
I swear to god I was happy.
I know now I wasn't,
filling myself with drugs
as fast as my blood stream
could run.
"What's up with you Molly?"
Even Dominic was worried
I was just floating on MDMA.
What's up with you, Molly?
He told me he could love me during rag week
and my god I thought it might cure me.
They found me
crying on the steps of the third floor
of Rachael's block
and no one ever found out why.
Not everyone made it out alive.
Oisin lifted me over walls
and Dominic caught me on the other side
and I suppose you could say that in many ways
they were lifting me through.
But think,
when I was in bed with him, stroking his back in little rings
and kissing him. Falling all over again,
so in love with him, some boy
who I'd never met
before that night
left that hotel room
and wound up dead in the Oranmore lake.
But how could you ever talk about that?
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
Near the river Boyne
stands the palace of Oisin
Mystical Newgrange
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 8:31 PM UTC
A destiny of longing,
of love and belonging
of long.
Of long and where does it fit amongst the
kettles and the pans
where does it nestle amidst the throng?
right here in the centre.
And from where does it spring
and from where does it sprong
it springs here and where
it does not go or flow
and so
And so it goes
throws and throes
and where it goes
no one knows
Until that day
when oisin goes
below
and says
its here
it always was
all along.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC