• casting runes — 16feb26

    michael raven

    laguz
    her river flows
    washing over
    to carry me home
    out across the sea

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is laguz, which has a core meaning of “lake” and, by extension, may be interpreted as “river”, “ocean”, “sea”, “waterfall” or a general body of water. Some alternative interpretations define as “leek”. Following the more commonly accepted meaning, bodies of water were considered liminal spaces, a place between life and death or the threshold space between which spirit and substance resides. Laguz is often associated with feminine energies and journeys via water.

    Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.

    tagged:

    , , ,

    filed under:

    To like/comment:

    casting runes — 16feb26

  • The Wormwood Mason

    michael raven

    AI-generated image with refinements by Michael Raven using Gemini agent

    Erza trudged up the muddy two-wheel track leading to the Vane cabin, making sure to cover his bound notebook under his slicker to keep it dry. The rough path was greasy with the steady drizzle of rain that had arrived at Wormwood the same day as he had. He had despaired of driving the last quarter-mile to the cabin immediately upon seeing the conditions from the two-lane, shoulder-less county road that passed by the homestead. When choosing his rental car, he had emphasized economy over practicality. He regretted, not the first time on this expedition, that he had not rented something with four-wheel drive for a trek into the heart of Appalachia.

    (more…)

    tagged:

    , , , , ,

    filed under:

    ,

    To like/comment:

    The Wormwood Mason

  • casting runes — 14feb26

    michael raven

    raido
    who is ridden
    when horse & rider flow?
    eventide at black sands
    waves upon the shore

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is raido, which has been translated as “ride” and the implied “journey”. This may be spatial and literal in practice (a physical journey), or it may be more figurative (an inner/shamanic journey, i.e., útiseta). The rune is associated with cyclic motion and the movement of the sun. Some consider the journey represented by raido to be that of returning.

    Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.

    tagged:

    , , ,

    filed under:

    To like/comment:

    casting runes — 14feb26

  • Where’s the prose?

    michael raven

    Okay, I’ll admit. I’m still working on the prompt from 12 February, and it might not be done until tomorrow. And, I’ll probably break my target limit for length on this one. You can’t win them all.

    Unlike most of the prompts that I’ve worked on that feel like they fit nicely into the <2000 word limit, this one feels like it needs to breathe and be allowed more space to be told. I don’t think I’ll exceed 3000 words, but it may get to that if I need to. Three hours of brainstorming and researching elements of the story and two hours into writing, I am 1600 words into it. I think this feels beefier than the other tales because it fits into my wheelhouse a little better. Appalachian Gothic vibes very close to the pulp horror that I’ve always found to be a big influence in my writing (when not swooning over Kafka or Salinger). This story has more elements of the atmospheric to it, which take up more space.

    I’m still plugging away and hope to have something posted by tomorrow (at the latest), earlier if possible.

    But now, I need coffee and to start making dinner soon.

    tagged:

    , , ,

    filed under:

    To like/comment:

    Where’s the prose?

  • hidden

    michael raven 

    they write your name on a cup
    then the cup is crushed, discarded
    in another gesture to a refuse kind of day

    hiding behind closed doors with
    all feathers turned to vane, whispering
    wishes breathlessly to the dim

    they will not know these ever for
    love lies bleeding in the snow
    rapiers quivering, too late for regrets

    tagged:

    , ,

    filed under:

    To like/comment:

    hidden