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Kenny McFadden

@mcfadden_kenny

I'm An Author, Faery Flies (coinneach MacPhaidin), Songwriter Powerless Prisoners/ author Powerless Prisoners (kenny mcfadden)(available on Amazon),

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“Go On...! Go and try to figure out why you can’t catch fish, and you’ll maybe figure out why you won’t let the ones you could catch be caught..!” ...................Boydee From Powerless Prisoners Coinneach MacPhaidin


The life, strife and the spirit was the windfall, bejewelled by the bastions of hope who settled by the nest of Rue River which flowed seaward towards McCuaigs. When the torrent abated it was not that of the horizon which eased the eyes, but that that once crested closer to home.


[Time For Freedom] A Whisper echoed for Freedom’s ears, As silence fled; The two stood side by side, demanding nothing, As Time slowly stilled the moment, Grasping only for this thief’s thought: Some theatre sparked by a layman’s head, From book Faery Flies Coinneach MacPhaidin


[Claiming The Beat] The P.S.N.I Seargent walked a long and down Botanic Avenue with a Six pack of Smithwicks in his right hand... he wore the native uniform of An Ulbster man in a heated rage He had had enough!! And was self determined to show his Erstwhile staff and colleagues.


There was a six string fiddle she held it so rare, My only teenage daughter, Was headed for Clair, Clear ayres and blue water, Was mine to turn around, But for tonight my daughters spells, Where? Nowhere to be… instagram.com/p/B4TTTYslsa-/…


[The City Cafe] She had Lilyput eyes and quite often as not, her quietness would burn the embers of a city cafe ashtray, as she thought for herself to herself and left the residual slag heap for her partners parents... Coinneach MacPhaidin 24/10/19


We cannot hear, From youth Arise, Now we hear, To slant our eyes, I am not hear to be, Aside a twig From yonder tree.. In Atune so still, A hollow fill, And lace the meadow with a Drill, For who it’s now, That time may be Aboard a vessel Counted Shee..

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[Don’t Personalise What You Cannot Achieve] Lay your carpet red, green or yellow, Beside a sapling root, Tie your tethers loosely, Trampled loosely underfoot. Leave, knowing the wizened, Oh wise and ancient well, Cast away all fear, And In the moment dwell Coinneach MacPhaidin


As Spiritual beings we can only share a moment truly if it’s afterlife is as a result of the transsubstantiation of the children we have become, not of the society which blends us but of the pith from which we came... The Pith Of Antipathy.

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[Knot, To Be Read As Rote] or (Ulbster In The House Of Leinster) The Faery Ring that you seek, Has been brought to me through sleep, The secret of the Crell we ask, Is what you require for a Clasp, For now we seek a Testament for the “Drone” Where we shall build a hive alone..


[The Rest Me Own Lot] The womb, the skull, the anchor & the dove, The view from the parapet, Reigning from above The Gulf Of Galgotha, Crossed forms,tooth pick, Awakened not by the mercy, Of the chaffed Rowan stick, The power of the poker, Wrapped Paisley scarf, Laid bare......


[The Gypsy Police] Motto They can teach you how to mix the mortar, And How to lay the stones, But if you don’t know how to make the bricks How can you call this place your home.. Coinneach MacPhaidin 1996


One must make peace with the past, to allow room for the present to give birth to future opportunities .... In not knowing, we bypass responsibility for belonging ... something that I have relieved myself of...


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