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Literature Text
(The Expulsion Of The Gael)
Heart cleft in two,
Halves beat as one across the grey Atlantic.
Ancestral blood in quantum jump,
From purpled hills.
Cast ashore as stranger,
One sense lost to distance,
The weight of land and history,
Pigeon with no way back.
Homesick:
Keening inside that closes the throat,
Blinds sight with memory,
Marrow aching.
Lamenting to the wind those sights
No longer seen.
Building hearth anew,
By Beltane banefire lit,
Celtic magic carried far,
And finding echoes in nature.
As ever was.
The far-flung Gael,
Wandering since Partholon,
Guided by starlight.
Love and life woven in weft,
Of home and child and sharing,
Hearts that were cleft,
Coming together to beat as one.
Still, echoing to that heartbeat,
Across the grey Atlantic.
Heart cleft in two,
Halves beat as one across the grey Atlantic.
Ancestral blood in quantum jump,
From purpled hills.
Cast ashore as stranger,
One sense lost to distance,
The weight of land and history,
Pigeon with no way back.
Homesick:
Keening inside that closes the throat,
Blinds sight with memory,
Marrow aching.
Lamenting to the wind those sights
No longer seen.
Building hearth anew,
By Beltane banefire lit,
Celtic magic carried far,
And finding echoes in nature.
As ever was.
The far-flung Gael,
Wandering since Partholon,
Guided by starlight.
Love and life woven in weft,
Of home and child and sharing,
Hearts that were cleft,
Coming together to beat as one.
Still, echoing to that heartbeat,
Across the grey Atlantic.
Literature
Bansid
I heard the lonely Bansid, cry
Calling ocean mist across the sky
I know in the ocean he will die,
When the wind begins to cry
And the moon to lie.
Oh darling, I cry for you,
On the cliffs I wretch…..
Oh darling, come home soon
So I join her wail,
Calling to the soul
Soon to be kept by the water
And I wonder if she knows,
What loss is.
I heard the lonely Bansid, cry
Calling ocean mist across the sky
I know in the ocean he will die,
When the wind begins to cry
And the moon to lie.
Oh darling, you are drowning,
In the fury of the sea,
Oh darling, I love you,
So I'll follow thee,
Throwing my heart to the sea,
Soon to b
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Literature
Dromomania
Every day I turn the key in the lock
Hoping to find you
tucked into the white folds
of an envelope,
of the bath towel I left on the sofa this morning.
But you and I, we haven't the breadth for that sort of thing.
I wish I could send you something of spring,
some distended meteor green with hope.
I'm watching the last of the oak leaves cling
stubborn
and I think
spring may not be coming this year.
There is no birdsong, there is
the furious sleeping of toads in the mud.
I came on the bench
where I slept in the warmth of your memory
this time last year.
Now the thought seems less mine and maybe it was
me you'd dreamt beside,
m
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I almost feel like I hear drums...