2005 LUGHNASADH/IMBOLC SHORT POEM ENTRIES

[Crow]

Notice: Please post your short poems for the current Eisteddfod here. Short poems must be 30 lines or less:

[John]

Balloons!

red means power,
and pink means love,
long or short they are always above.

green is friendship,
and purple is quite gay,
everyone should have one for every day.

white equals open,
black equals close,
helium make your voice as high as your nose.

blue could be honor,
and orange could be wisdom,
and most everyone thinks that they are fantastically dumb.

floating, bouncing,
doing what they do,
bringing joy to us all, those crazy balloons.

[John]

Autumn Wind

Cool kiss on your face, blows the worries away,
takes the lost ones, along to a better place,
the ashes of the great, are sent on their way,
all this with the sent of autumn leaves.

Can lift you up, and push you down,
opens a ray of light, and shuts one up,
carries with it the smells from the ground,
all this with the sent of autumn trees.

Creates hurricanes and tornados,
which after come restoration and re-birth,
blows along it the seeds of time,
all this with the sent of autumn deeds.

Around and around . . . and around and around, any wind can blow,
but the greatest of them, bring terrible delights,
this I know, and you know and it knows,
only is sent with the Autumn Wind

[Fitheach]

Aisling

Beautiful dream,
My love, my Aisling
Memories of you
Make my heart sing . . .

When I lay dying
You came and found me
With your gentle hands
You healed my body.

You live in the mist
Where I can’t find you
You left me ashore
Then you withdrew.

But you took my heart
It’s in your keeping
And left me hollow,
Forever weeping.

Are you a Faerie?
Or spirit of old?
Are you just a woman,
Whose heart is cold?

Are you afraid?
Have I scared you away?
Is my human heart
Too strong for the Fey?

Until find you,
I’ll never rest
Am I doomed to wander
On this endless quest?

[Dair Ciúin]

Kiss of the Morrighan
Written by Ithilas Aredhel Calanhir

Behold the Morrighan,
The dark lady, the circling crow,
Hauntingly beautiful, as pale as snow,
With long black hair and nails like claws,
She seldom speaks, but never ignores,

The young warrior’s eyes widen in fear,
While he realises his fate all too clear,
Standing on the battlefield, his numbers are few,
As the enemy lunges and draws him through,

Dropping his blade, he staggers forward,
And collapses to the grass, his body torn,
After admiring his victory, the foe turns away,
Leaving the young man alone on this miserable day,

A strong wind blows and a figure appears,
Its face concealed beneath long, mattered hair,
As it approaches a crow can be heard,
And the stranger looks up, its identity assured,

“Morrighan!” the young warrior gasps, whispering with dread,
The dark maiden stares, her eyes crimson red,
Standing naked beneath a ragged black dress,
She slowly kneels down while the wind blows fresh,

“Your time has come” she quietly speaks,
With a ghostly voice, and she kisses his cheek,
The young man closes his eyes, his vision fades,
And begins to leave this world for a much greater place,

A place without war, nor conflict, nor strife,
A place of peace, and beauty and life...

[SOLASDANA/F. MacEowen]

"Creed of the Ovate"
©2005/Frank MacEowen/SOLASDANA

What if your next step
were your last?

And,
with each gleaming airt
standing as a doorway
to a future life
of unmet knowledge,
in which direction
would you move?

What if your next moment
were your final moment,
and that final moment
could be filled
with one final uttered word?
What word would come
spiraling across your lips?

What if, instead,
your final moment was a chance
to retract something that had been said,
or remove some deed that had been done?
What word or deed would you retrieve?

Let each of these moments
coagulate within you.

Fill your lungs.
Take your step.
Utter your word.
Heal the fractures.

Daily.

Daily.

airt=cardinal direction, sometimes "wind" (Ir.Sco.Gael)

[Druce]

The Raven

In the heart of a forest of emerald green
Liven the woodland Lady Queen
With all nature’s children she spoke
As Celtic magik she would invoke
Spirits from the other world
And the Earthen Dragon with wings unfurled

While gathering wild garlands blooms
Within the shady gladed rooms
She saw a bloodied and broken form
Purple black feathers twisted and torn

Deeply touched by this wounded Raven
She gathered him back to her wooded haven
Removing the arrow and binding his wing
So that once again he may be flying

With gratitude he gave his trust to her
For when his wings moved again with blur
Away he flew but soon returned
For her love could not be spurned
A genteel gift held within his maw
A diamond drop of dew from the wooded floor

[Firehawk]

Resurgence

Shattered depths of mind prevailed,
Though wisdom crushed and hopes assailed.
Merged with thoughts and dreams forsaked,
A spark ignites; the spirit waked.

Bursting forth, the remnants thrust,
Through dark despair and dearth of trust,
Took hold the fear, regained control,
Into the winds I cast my soul.

[Azrienoch]

The Ballad of Burly Dan: An Homeric Epic of Confederate Proportions

This story's about Burly Dan
The strongest guy you'd ever see.
He could beat up on any man.
He even beat on me.

Well, one day, the Confederates came
And said ol' Dan would have to fight.
But Burly Dan put them all to shame
By beatin' them all to an ugly sight.

This went on for quite some time,
The troops would come, and get it bad
So the general said he'd kill Dan's Wife. "I'm
The man you want, kill me instead.

Now Burly Dan was the best of best
In the southern army, fought like a god.
He laid the enemies to rest.
And made the spectators applaud.

But Burly Dan didn't fight for no one,
And General Carter was harsh on him,
So he rebelled and joined ol' Lincoln.
For the Confederacy, things looked grim.

But General Grant's son shot Dan in the heel,
Which most folks wouldn't die from, but Dan did.
The South took advantage of the whole ordeal
And made a wooden elephant where troops hid.

The Union brought the elephant to their capitol
To show Lincoln that they had won the war.
The hidden troops brought the Northern downfall,
And the South ruled forever more!

[Rydel]

Sometimes it takes some time alone
A boring day with nothing to do
To give you a view of what is really happening
In your constantly turning mind
So clouded with reality
And everyday monotony
That you lose the significance of a smile
And the experience that comes with a trial
Tribulation always seems so bad
Until you sit down and realize what came from it
The growth you endured even though you did not want to
Never asked to change the way you saw things
But sometimes a single variable...
Can change everything
Mocking the ignorance of those around you
Until you realize the words coming from your own mouth
Laughing at a "friends" mistakes
Until you trip over your own feet... again
Forgetting that your not alone
Until the stars make an impact on open eyes
Forever seems so long
Until the day it ends...
And you forget what eternity means

[Rydel]

A clean page
Saved for today
Wet sand
Reserved for feet tracing names
Allowing waves to wash away broken hearts and memories
Braving the tide for one last swim
A salt filled ocean of this worlds tears
Dominating the weak hearted
And swallowing the strong headed
But this pool of sadness
Has the power to wash away
Things once thought of as impossible stains

[Rydel]

Prelude to a Moonlit Sigh


The moon shines so bright
I hope you are looking at it now
These thoughts push away the fright
I can only wonder how
I have gotten to this point
Swore that I would never love again
Oaths can be so hard to keep
When you never believed in them
And now I find it hard to sleep...
I imagine the moon reflecting off your eyes (shining like a gem)
Feel the prelude to a sigh
The wheel has made its turn
And I am near the top
Hope this moon can stop it
All I have to grasp is hope
The sky has been lit (on fire)
Fireflies sing songs of times gone by
Stars light up my sky
Pour out my soul to the endless night
This will be enough
I have gotten through the plight
Things had to get rough
Before you balanced me out (again)
While the sands of the heavens
Beat with my heart
A chill thrills my spine
Hard to believe what I have been given (this time)
We are going to be just fine.

[Mey]

ENTRY!!!

Anam Cara

Watching
Seeing
Understanding
Honesty and purity
True friendship
Different
But the same
Balance
Between questions and answers

Sharing, loving, giving
Opening and receiving
Acknowledgement of spirit and heart
No limitations of space and time
Distance has no meaning
Always together

Ancient kinship
Connected by Divine Light
Inseparable by death

Two souls became One
Awakened in eternity

Unpretentious
Without masks
Our true selves revealed

Strengthened by the past
Steadfast about the future

Ancient echoes
Whisper in our hearts:
‘Namaste Anam Cara!’

[bardicwisdom]

SONG OF THE TREES


In quietly reflective and pensive mood, I am stood at the edge of the trees,
Hearing the song of an errant breeze as it brushes its kiss on the leaves.

How many others before me, back through the vaults of time
Have paused on their way to listen, and heard this song sublime?

It tells of a time from long ago, when life had a different pace,
When seasons came, and seasons went, each in its proper place.

We followed this rhythm of life and death, and back to life again,
Because we had ears to listen to what the song was saying.

The trees still have time to stand and watch as the seasons march along,
Their ears still attuned as they listen to the Mothers timeless song.



But we in our wisdom are rushing along, so busy to forge ahead,
Blind and deafened, desensitised, to where our progress has lead.

Our Mother is weeping bitter tears for the path we are choosing to tread,
That we choose to ignore her warnings, of the future which lies ahead.

We have taken the gifts that were given with love, and bent them to our desire,
Ripped out Her heart and forged it anew, in our belching sulphurous fire.

Likewise Her bounty, in fruit, grain, and flesh, for our sustenance freely given,
Is squandered away, with no thought for the day, when by famine and hunger we’re driven.

The trees are rememb’ring those days long ago when we walked to the gentle sway,
Of the rhythm our Mother was teaching, and we listened to what She would say.

This is the song I am listening to as I stand at the edge of the trees,
This is the wisdom that I would share, Oh listen, my fellow man please.

It is not yet too late, we stand at the gate, the garden’s inviting us in.
There’s no need to push, nor to bustle and rush, no need for this clamorous din.

Take just what you need, put back where you can, make plans for the seasons turn,
For the Mother provides, nurtures, and guides, all you need do is learn.

Follow the rhythm, watch the stars, feel the seasons march along,
Open your hearts to the Spirit’s voice, and sing the ancient’s song.




© April 2004

Aidan Doyle

[bardicwisdom]

INSPIRATION

Tracks of ink laid down upon a page of paper made from wood,
Convey a thought which pulses through my consciousness,
And I would share it with you if I could.

I make a grasp at words that swirl about me in a storm,
Like flakes of snow,
Or leaves that in a forest swarm.
And trying to assemble them into the form that I would have them take,
They cascade through my fingertips, and on the rocky shore of creativity break.

But, like the turning of the wheel, if I persist,
My season too will blossom forth and grow,
Like snowdrops rising out of winter’s mist,
Or new grown spikes of gentle green emerging through the snow.


Now, heartened and encouraged by this newly growing thought,
From barren clay a fertile bed of rich dark earth is brought.
Like seeds my words are scattered now and falling where they may,
Will germinate in their own time, to flower in their own day.


Coaxed on by a warming sun and slowly lengthening day,
My words begin to form themselves into this joyous lay,
And watered by a gentle rain from inspiration’s pen,
Will reach a bounteous harvest, nurtured by Awen.


© Aidan Doyle February 2004

[Fae]

A Walk Into the Woods

Searching for the perfect spot to sit,
needing to experience the woods in all its reality.
Sitting quietly, calmly watching,
seeing how the trees and saplings grow.
Reaching for the sky making a space for themselves
in relation to each other.

The trees are gathering their sap,
storing it in preparation for the winter season.
Stop, listen you can hear them drinking.
The berries are ripe and juicy,
ready for harvest.
Shh! the animals are coming to feast.

A sense of calm, peacefulness,
a gaining of knowledge.
The true meaning of Mother Earth,
all that she encompasses.
As the wheel turns and the seasons change,
understanding what it means to the animals and plants.
How each acts in perfect harmony with the Mother.

The smell of the soil, with its entire total ness,
of rot, decay, death and rebirth.
The taste of constant change and movement,
puts order in my life.

[Underground River]

Fae, this is perfect! I especially like "puts order in my life". I also like when you describe the taste and smell of things. I felt like I was there!
GreenDruid

[mawnanian]

The Prisoner


She looked out of the window
She could see the red brick walls
She could see the windows, deep pools reflecting her own small world
Looking up she could see an azure sky
Looking down she could see the black tarmac, crawling with cars
And people; who seemed just like her, although she knew that was impossible
She could never make herself that vulnerable
Expose herself to that much uncertainty
Surround herself with so much empty space
So she looked out of the window

She looked into her room
She could see her table
She could see her chair with her red dress over it
Looking left she could see her fireplace with her painting above it
Looking right she could see the door with the handle, mocking her
She knew she could turn the handle, open the door and walk through
She knew she could do that any time she wanted
She knew she could leave any time she wanted
But not today
So she looked out of the window

[Skylark]

Summer Solstice

I’m motionless here on the strand
Where earth and waters meet;
I feel the tide come, sucking sand
From ‘neath my standing feet,
And greet you, spirits of the land!
I greet you, spirits of the sea;
I start to understand
That you are one with me!

Sweet breath of embers, summer air,
Caressing face and lifting hair,
The whole great universe my skin,
Where do you end and I begin?
Why even care?
I greet you, lazy, sun-logged breeze;
I love you, lush full-foliaged trees,
You landscape fair!
You sea of rose and sky of gold
That I embrace… but cannot hold.

O great Creation’s soul, awake
And bursting with exquisite music
Heard and unheard! May I take
Your melody and learn it, choose it,
Play it back to you to break
My habits of unsinging blindness?
Be inspired and never lose it?
Bathe, my soul, in Awen’s kindness!
This be my life: now I choose it.

[Azrienoch]

Praise Him!

If there is a God,
Who does He think He is?
Is He Father, or is He Fraud
When only one race may be His?

Would he really be so cruel
To kill His children off?
Is the purpose of the fool
So He may laugh or scoff?

Would God be so arrogant
To think He's never wrong?
To intimidate us to repent
Then worship Him in song?

Because if they don't confess
And beg and cry and plea,
His children go in a furnace
To burn and blister for eternity.

But why should we feel bad
For living in sin by force?
Is it really the praxis of a dad
To abandon without remorse?

"God damn it!" Why not strike me down?
I have no reason to believe in you;
The evidence against you is profound.
I give praise where praise is due.
To you I sing a sad, not joyful, sound.
Am I truely to praise you? I refuse.

Someday we won't be around;
Who, then, shall you abuse?