i've been asked to leave some of my poetry here for all to ridicule. but, i don't have many poems that would be at home in tír, though i do have a few. so, please-please, leave some of your poetry here. i don't want to be the only one ridiculed.

the queen of all elves was there.
with hair suspended (somehow)
behind her.

in a wood rush
of nightly flowers and cedar holes,
the people mingled,
circling,
in a palace of trees.

i came out of the dark,
shadowless, starless canopy and
she smiled then,
with the shout merry flicker
of leaf light
darting branch in branch.

the wind of the evening
blew up bits of grass
and three leaves.

(she touched my face with small hands)

travelling the countries
of my cheeks;
the faery light burned
inside me.

and she kissed me.
to the tops of trees we went
by, up, through, around and under.
and we were dancing,
laughing,
at every turn laughing,
smiling,
the moon was the sun
and we were smiling,
kissing,
we were kissing,
still moving.

until the dancing of stars,
like the dirt floor below
dancing of people,

collided

in the melting grip
of our kissing eyes.

made of elven wood
knocking doors
she came
down falls
down lanes.

her feet made no dent in the dust,
her breath moistened the air.

a tear she shed,
and moonlight born,
time was dead,
till knocking on my door.

the dust closed my eyes,
shimmer-voice opened my heart.
enchanting
when you knocked.

listless
my part.

*blanket bog*


i want to lie down
and let the blanket bog cover me.
let heather and moss
collect by mud pools near my face.
-be the next giant deer.

(i can't see past love-therefore)
i am extint.

i can't remember when
she hugged me first, or,
i kissed her second.

(the bog grows on keeping)
or if i love you was projected
more than meant.

(pillow of bog oak)
lay me down.

fifteen feet above the glaciers.
two feet below everything else.

Well, I for one am impressed. It seems we have another grand poet, joining the ranks of the Fili na Tír.

Hopes Cu will be posting more of his poems over time, as has really enjoyed reading his work.

wow those poems are really good Cu. i wish i could write like that. the only thing artistic i can do well is belly dance.


and to everyone here. yes i live! i just don't go online often.

bellydance, eh? hmmmm.....

lovely movement in your words Curoi.
I have read them several times now and have to say the lines 'fifteen feet above the glaciers.
two feet below everything else.' really caught my attention.
you asked for others to leave some as well ...so here goes...a few words from my collection which have been spattered here and there before on different shores.....

Ancient Eyes
I have dwelt on Raven's wing
Dreamt with the starry Sky on a Summer's wave
I have been shadows out in the rain
Sometimes between the falling drops and the gathering mists I have
found myself

I am the rain
I have been a star on the horizon dropping slowly beyond reach
Set to roam
The infinite shores of the land of sleep

forest


wind sings through you
in the night
falling snow gathers on your boughs of fir and cedar
the sweet sounds of little birds and ravens
and the hum of bees
rushing through your canopy in the sunrise
trickling streams giggle with delight
snails slither o'er mossy stones
moonlight perches on the tips of your high towers
when a small child
first discovers your hidden treasures
beauty is given an ancient voice
love, another name

Eclipse

somewhere walking breathing somewhere sunshine falls on you
and moonbeams dance their immortal dream upon your lips~


-The Secret Ingredient
the star of your life
magic of our dreaming seas

quivering string
the endless motion of being~


-The Calm
quiet hush ease your mind
rest your thoughts
forget awhile
the wars of your heart
the waking in your soul
gently let it all fall free
as autumn leaves
release the prisoners of your expression
the changing whirring crushing crying bleeding mending dreaming
walk with the will of the heavens~

perhaps I am overposting here *s*
okay last couple of 'em and then i'm shuttin up.

-Warp and Weft


the light of the ancients
fills our hearts like the spark of a flame
in the cold we search out the warmth of the night

songs glide down the tongue and fall from our mouths like
the raindrops of a small day
when dreams mingle with change and change with reason

the warp and the weft and the weave of our skin
your heart is your centre of hope
freedom shelters therein
the blood and the pulse and the spiralling flow
miracle of life
the twists and the turns
revolutions we embrace
stillness we usher~


-Time Walking

i hear the rustle of leaves in the wind
the swallow flutters from the eaves
a walking time is moving on
shifting from
zero to one and back again
in a cycle of constancy that weighs on all
our moments seem endless but fading
and what have we still to dream
in the starlight of our making~