òran / song


do you have to know  

a language,to understand

a song.heartache in the loss.   

sadness inside melancholy.

love,within the light,

reverberates. nature’s echo  

ripples over the landscape 

of unspoken trace memory. 

inside each raindrop life’s river

runs.the stag hears below

the heather.below the ground.

below all sound.blood pumps

within everything.inside every

flower that blooms — shoots — 

the newborn song of life.

©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.


Loidhneachan / Lines


Lines drawn, connecting
landscape to a people.
lines connecting people to themselves.
linear visible imprints, hard, distinct
Crafted on aged stone.
granite hewed from a Living past,
from known surroundings.
touched & shaped by cultured hands,
Inclusive of a language & of a people.
a vibrant landscape,
known by time past,
and the blowing singing ga[e]l[e]
unknown to us now,
a forgotten song.
the people of our land
immortal seeds,
Planted firmly in fertile ground.


©Karen Bain 2016.All Rights Reserved





Blue black sky-starry night twinkles over silver sea
pathway to the past and the land of our time
fishermen and fishwives shelter in the lashing dreich
Sparkling towers in the main street echo beauty sunlit or wintry rain
mychty men quarried our silver city dug deep and built it up
on the pieces bright glances and rowie’s their quines gave to them each morning
Atop o’ a building looking at the view ahead Twa towns
clear skies over squabbling gulls swirling chasing fishing boats home
children racing flying kites at the beach boaties in the distance
Twa rivers merge into ice cold water deep grey restless sea of endless storms
gave us life and brings us death – here communities are born.

©Copyright Karen Bain 2015. All Rights Reserved.




Tired of the pain
Of the inter/ruptured/ruption in my thoughts
Of pains inability to focus
Tired of pain/less empty medication
and the double edged sword of numb
offered up…
from a hollow world
Tired of numb as the only everlasting option
from the endless searing hurt
Of blurred thoughts
and the fractal visions that it brings
Tired of trying to get back to me
The me that I was…free
The land where numb was never
my preferred choice
before my brain
and surgical steel devoured me
Tired of the living nightmare
that fragile mortality has become
picking up the pieces
Trapped..in the Darkness
between endless pain
and the unwanted promise of numb


©Copyright Karen Bain 2015. All Rights Reserved.




Across the sea another land
reach out to me
Touch my hand
through the mist of time
an endless song
echoing homeward
a life reborn

An endless ocean
of rhythmic tides
moonlight glistening
echoing skies
the power
the glory
far away
endlessly flowing
night and day

A lifetime’s journey
across the shore
throughout the ages evermore
reach out and touch me
Touch my hand
an endless journey
through time and sand

©Karen Bain 2014. All Rights Reserved.

The White Land


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There is a land where we belong

There is a land and it is Free

It is a land of life & soul

Of dreams

It has never been bought

can never be sold


It has been marched on

trodden on…infiltrated

Spat upon


It is unchanged/unfaltered

never altered

Its destiny is stone


It has rivers of tears

and earth rich in blood

It’s son’s have died for ‘freedom?’


It is Pride & Disassembly

No man can have what he fails

to understand

We can not Own


©Copyright Karen Bain 2014. All Rights Reserved.