Séamas Cain

THE LADY O'HANDRAHAUN

[written in memory

of my grandmother

Bríd Ní hAndradháin]

Yearningly /  longingly /  to the

Sweating of the brain * thorns as

Thorns reaching~ lovingly

She was like a pale rose

Thrusting /  attaining /  thorn shrub

She was tenacious cause of irritation

Short sharp pointing hard leafless

Varying stem

Rose of red

Rose of white

Luxuriousness /  beautiful /  yet

Simple affection~ lush

I trust you (she said)

Plant with prickly stems

Growing with becomingness

Abounding and good vigour

Ornamentation~

I love the radiance of true

Simplicity (she said)

Speak (I said)

Eyes the color of russet

Blue white skin of tissue

She was purity of parchment

Prepared as a surface :

Interwoven mesh~

Mottled by bleeding injuries on

Occasional rareties /

Mark of archaic hurt and

Scarcity~ lack of densities

She was volume of the

Crowd~ objectified~ obsidian

I am the whirlwind (she said)

Alabaster face (I said)

Many streaming panting wind

And rain to the hard and

Glassy dark rocks /

High to the suffering shores

Cargoes of the land

Cargoes of the wood

Spouting to sound by blowing

O the Lady O'Handrahaun

Driven (she said)

Bursting explosion~ blowing motion

She was holding her own face

Cold fingers : to graze past something

A light touch in passing

Loveliness / lovely

Brushing finger motion

Royal face thunder~ continuously

I in brightness and with luck (she said)

RAZORS

[written in memory of my

friend David J. Vittorio]

i wallow in dirty water that

in unmortal silence ignites

a yellow carp the smotherer

of its own melting hues

a heart & a cistern shake

as the carp leaps over the

ambers & blues to uranium

nevertheless nevertheless

i wallow in carp water

i want a rat's landscape

soft light in shallowing deeps

the processes of cannibals

or a christ-fisher

breezes came from land

then, in a trance, a cascade

of feathery quires as the

seasurges of uranium & gorse

blew from a dying flame

or, was it the stillness of

fishspawn that glazed in the

smouldering fires & rocky ashes?

a tumescent horse raced towards me

sadly, i haltered my bruised horse

the sun's rim sank, but

it left breath to trees

yells arrayed their rank on rank as

mere packets for milk-clots & huffs

i crushed a fading crimson ball

mouse-holes are lapping

the floor of a mouse's hall

the neon of gunpowder & razors

more level than the sea

or vomit the melting-point

of loving phantasy for

a corrosive seagull

moon like a white rose shines as

neon for thatchers of detergent

low murmurs rode on the

lava of geraniums to gallop

where many shells of

twisted trumpets collapse

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Copyright © 2014 by Séamas Cain

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