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Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
Sea town from the bluff,
Early autumn snow flakes fly—
  .  .  .  Sailboats ply harbour.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Hazel nuts, brown leaves,
They fly in formation, last reign—
Blue drops, summer sky.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Seabird tracks in sand,
End where mine begin, as tides—
Make both disappear.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Bare feet on long beach,
So short was our time together,
Sands slipping to sea.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2012
The moon held me down,
Then your shining face swept me,
Now, I rise with sun.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
Her lips, coffee, milk,
Scrambled omelet skin and toast,
First breakfast in bed.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Gift of sun sinking,
Lake water gleams, at piers end—
Two chairs were waiting.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Cloud, moving waters,
Ripples, soft white leaf on lake—
Shape of neck spells name.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
Child picking flowers—
She loves me, she loves me not,
  .  .  .  Wind graffiti.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Three evergreen trees,
Left of snow spotted mountains,
Paint perfect picture.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
The book of changes—
Universe of knowledge in leaves,
Four seasons, one tree.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
Eyes of innocence,
Drops of water, windy hair—
Body built for sin.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Daisies crowd my lawn,
Soon clover, bees, butterflies—
Now, garden meadow.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Path of right angles,
Two observers, in field with wine,
Faint stars moving strange.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Out of water, she—
Rose, soaked dress, body blinding,
Eyes looking away.
An Undine is a water nymph or water spirit, the elemental of water. They are usually found in forest pools and waterfalls. They have beautiful voices, which are sometimes heard over the sound of water. According to some legends, Undines cannot get a soul unless they marry a man and bear him a child. This aspect has led them to be a popular motif in romantic and tragic literature.
In 18th-century Scotland, Undines were also referred to as the wraiths of water. Even then, they were not feared as other wraiths such as the kelpie.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
She said she loved him,
Making plans on mobile phones,
One foot out the door.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
She had words with me,
That night, her dress, eyes, moonlight,
Don't know what she said.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Mountain bleeds fire,
Falling to sea, dark gold streams—
Sun behind her hair.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Birds above windows,
Jostle and sing, building nests—
Cat behind the screen.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Trying to sleep late—
Blue cat on my chest purrs, waits,
Gentle paws on face.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
Arbiter of sun—
The dogma of run on days,
White, seductress moon.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Late springtime beauty,
Cherry trees losing petals—
Blossoms in her hair.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Garden speaks to me,
Simple tale— all in one day,
Flowers follow sun.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
Will I ever know—
As insects walk on water,
Bliss, stillness on pond?
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Autumn, red maples
Branch over water, leaves drop—
Coins in old fountain.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
What light miracles,
Intrinsic grace— birds in flight,
Angels among us.
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2014
My skin is ******—
John Moffatt, with scorpion chest,
  .  .  .  Reads with a mean wit.
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2014
No peace in empire  .  .  .
Blind surveil themselves freely,
  .  .  .  Perpetual war.
The world of George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four exists in a state of perpetual war among the three major powers. At any given time, two of the three states are aligned against the third; for example Oceania and Eurasia against Eastasia or Eurasia and Eastasia against Oceania. However, as Goldstein's book points out, each Superstate is so powerful that even an alliance of the other two cannot destroy it, resulting in a continuing stalemate. From time to time, one of the states betrays its ally and sides with its former enemy. In Oceania, when this occurs, the Ministry of Truth rewrites history to make it appear that the current state of affairs is the way it has always been, and documents with contradictory information are destroyed in the memory hole.

A dystopia (from the Greek δυσ- and τόπος, alternatively, cacotopia, kakotopia, or anti-utopia) is a community or society that is in some important way undesirable or frightening. It is literally translated as "not-good bad-place" and synonymous with the opposite of utopia. Such societies appear in many artistic works, particularly in stories set in a future. Dystopias are often characterized by dehumanization, totalitarian governments, environmental disaster, or other characteristics associated with a cataclysmic decline in society.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2015
Ancient bearded ones  .  .  .
Stands of knowledge into sky,
  .  .  .  Snow face of mountains.
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2015
After days of rain
Garden birds flicker— sparkle
Lighted by the sun
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2016
After days of rain
Garden birds flicker— sparkle
Lighted by the sun
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2013
The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews        
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews        
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2014
The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews        
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.
Seán Mac Falls May 2013
.
The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2013
The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2016
Temple bells ringing  .  .  .
Flowers open to catch sounds
  .  .  .  Joyous from the sun
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2019
.
Butterfly is welled
Overjoyous in flower
Tearing from the sun
.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2016
Temple bells ringing
Flowers open to catch sounds
Joyous from the sun
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
Temple bells ringing
Flowers cupping vibrations
Joyous from the sun
Seán Mac Falls May 2016
Temple bells ringing
Flowers open to catch sounds
Joyous from the sun
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2016
Etched in smoke, burnished by olden sun,
The runner grasses wave below into maze,
For eyes in cloud to clutch on mottled vermin,
Higher in stations, a judgement for all grazer,

Pleated feathers arched in weightless stone,
Are blades as steely as any burnt ploughmans
And airs that break, lift hawk far into sun shone,
As quake of earth strikes up a still haired louse,

For blades of green shall call, bleed in grasses
And whisper will shout, downing smallest might,
Tiny beasts who crawl among waveing masses,
To hawk over hill, sheering in raiments of light.
Seán Mac Falls May 2015
.
Etched in smoke, burnished by olden sun,
The runner grasses wave below into maze,
For eyes in cloud to clutch on mottled vermin,
Higher in stations, a judgement for all grazer,

Pleated feathers arched in weightless stone,
Are blades as steely as any burnt ploughmans
And airs that break, lift hawk far into sun shone,
As quake of earth strikes up a still haired louse,

For blades of green shall call, bleed in grasses
And whisper will shout, downing smallest might,
Tiny beasts who crawl among waveing masses,
To hawk over hill, sheering in raiments of light.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2015
Etched in smoke, burnished by olden sun,
The runner grasses wave below into maze,
For eyes in cloud to clutch on mottled vermin,
Higher in stations, a judgement for all grazer,

Pleated feathers arched in weightless stone,
Are blades as steely as any burnt ploughmans
And airs that break, lift hawk far into sun shone,
As quake of earth strikes up a still haired louse,

For blades of green shall call, bleed in grasses
And whisper will shout, downing smallest might,
Tiny beasts who crawl among waveing masses,
To hawk over hill, sheering in raiments of light.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2017
.
Etched in smoke, burnished by olden sun,
The runner grasses wave below into maze,
For eyes in cloud to clutch on mottled vermin,
Higher in stations, a judgement for all grazer,

Pleated feathers arched in weightless stone,
Are blades as steely as any burnt ploughmans
And airs that break, lift hawk far into sun shone,
As quake of earth strikes up a still haired louse,

For blades of green shall call, bleed in grasses
And whisper will shout, downing smallest might,
Tiny beasts who crawl among waveing masses,
To hawk over hill, sheering in raiments of light.
Seán Mac Falls May 2017
.
Etched in smoke, burnished by olden sun,
The runner grasses wave below into maze,
For eyes in cloud to clutch on mottled vermin,
Higher in stations, a judgement for all grazer,

Pleated feathers arched in weightless stone,
Are blades as steely as any burnt ploughmans
And airs that break, lift hawk far into sun shone,
As quake of earth strikes up a still haired louse,

For blades of green shall call, bleed in grasses
And whisper will shout, downing smallest might,
Tiny beasts who crawl among waveing masses,
To hawk over hill, sheering in raiments of light.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations,
Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom,,
Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging
Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories
Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern
Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined
Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded
Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen
And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
The hazel's unusual branch formations make it a delight to ponder, and was often used for inspiration in art, as well as poetry.

The bards, ovates and druids of the Celtic day would intently observe its crazy curly-Q branches. Doing this would lead them into other worlds of delightful fantasy. Much the same way our modern imaginations can be captured by a good movie, the creative Celts were artistically motivated by the seemingly random and wild contortions of the hazel.

A more commonly known fact is that the hazel is considered a container of ancient knowledge. Ingestion of the hazel nuts is proposed to induce visions, heightened awareness and lead to epiphanies. Indeed, the legend of Fionn Mac Cumhail tells of his gaining the wisdom of the universe by simply coming in contact with the essence of the hazel nut.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2013
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations,
Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom,
Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging
Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories
Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern
Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined
Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded
Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen
And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
The hazel's unusual branch formations make it a delight to ponder, and was often used for inspiration in art, as well as poetry.

The bards, ovates and druids of the Celtic day would intently observe its crazy curly-Q branches. Doing this would lead them into other worlds of delightful fantasy. Much the same way our modern imaginations can be captured by a good movie, the creative Celts were artistically motivated by the seemingly random and wild contortions of the hazel.

A more commonly known fact is that the hazel is considered a container of ancient knowledge. Ingestion of the hazel nuts is proposed to induce visions, heightened awareness and lead to epiphanies. Indeed, the legend of Fionn Mac Cumhail tells of his gaining the wisdom of the universe by simply coming in contact with the essence of the hazel nut.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2014
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations,
Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom,
Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging
Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories
Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern
Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined
Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded
Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen
And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
The hazel's unusual branch formations make it a delight to ponder, and was often used for inspiration in art, as well as poetry.

The bards, ovates and druids of the Celtic day would intently observe its crazy curly-Q branches. Doing this would lead them into other worlds of delightful fantasy. Much the same way our modern imaginations can be captured by a good movie, the creative Celts were artistically motivated by the seemingly random and wild contortions of the hazel.

A more commonly known fact is that the hazel is considered a container of ancient knowledge. Ingestion of the hazel nuts is proposed to induce visions, heightened awareness and lead to epiphanies. Indeed, the legend of Fionn Mac Cumhail tells of his gaining the wisdom of the universe by simply coming in contact with the essence of the hazel nut.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2015
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations,
Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom,,
Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging
Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories
Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern
Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined
Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded
Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen
And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
The hazel's unusual branch formations make it a delight to ponder, and was often used for inspiration in art, as well as poetry.

The bards, ovates and druids of the Celtic day would intently observe its crazy curly-Q branches. Doing this would lead them into other worlds of delightful fantasy. Much the same way our modern imaginations can be captured by a good movie, the creative Celts were artistically motivated by the seemingly random and wild contortions of the hazel.

A more commonly known fact is that the hazel is considered a container of ancient knowledge. Ingestion of the hazel nuts is proposed to induce visions, heightened awareness and lead to epiphanies. Indeed, the legend of Fionn Mac Cumhail tells of his gaining the wisdom of the universe by simply coming in contact with the essence of the hazel nut.
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