Arctic Seasickness

On crescent ships lost
In suffering arctic waters.
Tossing and turning in exhaust.
Losing myself in frigid cold.

My stomachs churning,
Besought of hyperthermia or
Just the seasickness that's burning.
Ice flourishes like tree mold.

Somber silence I weep
For warmth of a cozy bed
And the love that's asleep
Waiting, waiting to burn away the cold.

Anguish of a Dying Celtic

Detached existence of anguish

That harbors fathomless in my chest. 

Friends, I pray could hear the howling

That emits from a heart of repressed.

I write ye words of black

For none can imagine this lost.

English spreads without mothachadh!

Emotionless it kills without exhaust. 

A language struggling to subsist.

When its words are spoken

All are still as the elderly sing

With a Gaelic storm that's unbroken!

In the depths of my very essence

I feel it grasp my heart.

The blood of a Celtic armann.

Gaelic, true words of a peoples art.

Long time folks. I apologize for not posting any poems lately. Times have been rough, confusing, and filled with endless joy. I'm beginning to learn Scottish Gaelic because when I walk my true love down to the alter I don't want use the English words, but the Gaelic words of my Ancestors. Its sad to know that both Gaelic's (Scottish, and Irish) are dying. If I can learn all I can I'm going to teach it to my children. It's beautiful language.  So HAPPY NEW YEAR and I hope you a drank ye fill and celebrated like a true Celt! I know I did!