Do Not Stand - A parody

Do not stand on my toe and bleat 
I am not here, they're not my feet
I am the throbbing, noisome bunnion
I am the tears brought on by onion
I am the sting of an insect bite
I am the bump in the dead of night
When you stub your toe on a hidden root
I am the sniggering, mirthful hoot
of children hidden in the hedge
I am the slippery window ledge
As you hit the street below
I tell you this so all will know
Do not stand on my foot and squawk
I am not here, I took a walk.

© Kahdoosch 2010

The Merrow in the Mist

Water... bewitches and beguiles
Solemn music of the angel isle
Harmony of shingle sifting spume between it's scales
Rhythm of the ebb and flow, weaves pattern in the shale
Melody stands, high on wave and crashes down below the saline curve
rises with the coming storm and leaps from foamy tip to sky, observe
A figure far beyond the azure bay
Merrow harp sings sadly to the silent day
And all this in her eyes, her form, her hands
reflects her earthly cadence to the distant land.



© Kahdoosch 2010

Last seen in Meadows

Write her name on stone?
She IS the stone.
Place her under cloth of grass?
She IS the weave; the warp and weft.
No whispered name
or rime-tang tears
on a northern draft
She IS the air, for the last breath...
Hush now, Mother, rest.
 

~25 January 2008 11:25 am~

©  2008 Kahdoosch

You Danced on Raindrops

Drink wine from the wingtips of angels
Throw coins down obsidian wells
Step into the sky on the breath of swallows
Tread softly where daydreams dwell

Held hands by the scales of paper
Lips taste pale olive and kale
Walked through a glimpse of tomorrow
Visions through glass of another vale

You danced on a halo of raindrops
Tears from the gentlest of winds
Carried you over the widest ford
Borne home on a memory of fins


© 2007 Kahdoosch

I am Silk

I am designed, soft and fine,
Warmth, inside like ruby wine
Proud to be worn
When touching one sublime

Woven around you
Wound and spun
Flowing and supple
Sea spray, mist and gentle fun

Inside me I feel you
Under my skin
Your heat transferred
Your calm within

Some think it’s me
but I am merely drape
The devine I obscure
to those who seek escape.

© Kahdoosch 2007

The Memory of a Kiss

I would like it to be perfect
The best that I can do
A thing of paper, wood and wax
of panel pins and glue

A litle ink, a little love
Some artists colour, mixed
A touch of patience, care and skill
then all together fixed

I'll hang it on the brightest wall
to catch the light just so
to welcome all that pass this way
to cheer them as they go

I won't make any other
No other quite like this
eternal, it will be, unique...



© 2007 Kahdoosch

You are real

Did I meet you once?
Did I touch you?
We held hands for a time
I'm sure we did

Then gone, gone away
away on the wind
Like a harpist in the mist,
a piper skirling in swirling fog

You are real in my dreams,
in my blood. You are real
I hear your music,
feel the beat of you

I can dance now
dance to the tune
keeping time, for a time
when you will be here

© 2007 Kahdoosch

Of water

A touch so soft that air can find no victory,
an intimate cleansing, unconditional lover,
a gentle reminder, earth is often bathed,
And so does feel no need for any other

To cleanse all sufferings and tears,
When sufferings and tears are instants past,
To melt away the sorrows and the years,
our time will flow together ‘til the last,

All sufferings will have their cicatrix,
though scars are all but mem’ries of no wound
while water moulds and in it’s form does fix
All thoughts of pain itself remain marooned.


© 2007 Kahdoosch

Soulsmeet

How can I hold you when you are inside me
How can I see you when you are my eyes
Show me how I can release you forever
Together we rise into Serian skies.


© 2007 Kahdoosch

I Heard the Song

I heard it once,not in a dream
not in this life, I feel it still
In the rush of blood, the flexing of joints
In the thought born of a moment

I'm glad to be here, glad
here in this Manse of flesh
This imperfect domain, where,
I can laugh and cry in the same instant

In this place I can feel
In this place I can love
In this place I can vanquish
the very soul of torment

In this place I can die,
an exquisite cessation
I heard the song of the universe
It wasn't so important

I heard the song
but life beckons.


© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Warrior

I feel I have to 'do' war, once,
just for the experience
After all, it's why I'm here
When I stand in front of the foe,
When the unnamed fist slams the table
Only one of us shall fall
leaving the other to face an uncertain future

Which warior will return years later?
Which of us will lay flowers at the
site of the Blood Mass?
Are the flowers for the routed foe?
Are they for comrades lost?
Or are they for the victor?
One day I may know the answer

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Grand Old Duke

I climbed a hill, I did it for HIM
I struggled, I toiled
I stubbed my toe often
I stumbled with exhaustion

I knew the hill HAD to be conquered
I had to fight to my last breath
The hill was my enemy
HE had told me so

I reached the summit I found a child
Neither a small nor a large one... Everychild... MY child
It's eyes looked upon eternity
It, most certainly, did NOT smile

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Death of Ercildoune

I returned to the Eildon tree
No more would lyrics come to me
My trade and craft is sworn away
by Sidhe queen on Lamass day

To roam the earth without good fare
Listening to all others ware
Then finally wither and to die
A pointless bard who cannot lie

Fair price to save a son
who blessed can never be returned
Half human and half Theena shee
But still my son... Forever free

His not to wear the grass-green hose
or lute and sing wherever he goes
My life for a lie... Well, maybe two
Some other child to pay the Devil's due

Still as I sleep against the tree
I dream I'm back under the lea
I rest my head on cloth-of-grass
This once-cursed breath is twice my last

© 2005 Kahdoosch

This is poetry

Who needs words?

A Cloud of Oranges

It was the first time they had seen such a thing
Orange trees, mile after mile
As far as the hills allowed
Not a string bag in sight
No bundles in a hyper-market
Natures own on grand display

She walked up the steep winding road
She didn’t like hills, they tired her
In this heat too…
He called for her to hold back
He just had to do it, couldn’t resist

He scooted up a tree,
legs scrabbling, boughs bending
Right at the top - his prize
The highest orange, he plucked it
fell out of the tree in the process

Got it though, dimpled globe
Small twig attached
Two bright green leaves
He wished they were Emeralds
He ‘legged it’ up the hill
She hadn’t stopped, hadn’t heard him

The breeze that had snatched his words
also snatched his breath, as he laboured after her
Finally, he caught up, wheezing
She turned, saw his broad grin
He handed her the fruit with a flourish
She looked at him as if he was nuts
A ‘playing the silly bugger again’ look

On their next visit
The orchards were in bloom
The world turned into a cloud of orange blossom
They had walked for hours under the canopy
Felt like characters from Fantasia
They returned there often

Years later, many years later
On a black tie day
He entered the bedroom, bereft
Started to empty her bedside cabinet
His hand fell on something in the back of a drawer


A desiccated Orange, twig still attached
A pair of Emerald earrings clipped to the twig
He wished they were leaves
It was hard as a cricket ball, burnt umber with age
She’d gone on ahead, always getting to the pitch
while he was still picking the spin

He touched it to his cheek
Held it to his heart
Lay back on the soft bed
It brought her home to him
He closed his eyes, following
The room filled, with the scent of Neroli.

© 2005 Kahdoosch