scars disguised as skin
stretched taut over flesh
the mirror people
are never deceived
mirror-mirror
No comments on mirror-mirrorTo like, click comments or:
mirror-mirror
casting runes — 25sept26
jera hand in hand
through wynds & narrows
'twixt sunlight & shadows
we are but phantasms
within the dreamA poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is jera. Jera is translated as “year”, and has also been translated as “harvest”. This rune is representative of cycles, the “wheel of the year”, the union of opposites (implied by the summer half of the year ending, winter half of the year beginning), balance, as well as cause/effect relationships.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
To like, click comments or:
casting runes — 25sept26
flint drags night
with red eyes raw
for sleepless, searching
for whatever bone is
left of love lies scattered
stone shores washing
ocean in every latinate
spoken crossing white crests
while flint drags
night to morningTo like, click comments or:
flint drags night
casting runes — 24sept26
wunjo deep the well &
little from which
to draw except
sharp objects—
flint, bone & nailA rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is wunjo, which is translated as “joy” and has been interpreted in both the earthly sense as well as in spiritual ecstasy. It has been associated with healing (emotional, mental and interpersonal) and some sources connect the rune to luck, the act of making a wish, or applied will. Wunjo can also be the inspiration for creativity.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
To like, click comments or:
casting runes — 24sept26
Crashburn
Yesterday evening was a crashburn kind of writing sesh. The spirit is willing, but the flesh… and all that.
Oof.
What set it all up is that I did a reset on the serial I had plans for.
Name change possibly in the works because Everything Falls Apart is a little too, well, apocalyptic sounding for what I have in mind. This story churning around in my head is unlike most of the tales you may have read from me. It is present day and not post-apocalyptic. Nothing fantasy. Nothing science fiction. Nothing cosmic horror. Nothing overtly absurd.
(more…)tagged:
episodic fiction, fallen off the wagon and thinking again, things things things, writing about writingfiled under:
To like, click comments or:
Crashburn
casting runes — 23sept26
ansuz brack-a-crack & rattle bone branch, grey on the autumn come howling hollow places our breath down low gather change winds come them home
A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is ansuz, which has a core meaning “a god” (intended to be Odin), “mouth” or “breath”. Odin is representative of many, many things… in this case, ansuz is most representative of the mouth/breath (speech) that gives life to poetry, magic, song, language, and spirit — largely inseparable in the Viking worldview — and Odin is considered the supreme master of these intertwined concepts. By way of the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the rune is named æsc, which is translated to “ash”, a tree associated with Odin and is representative of resilience and strength.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
To like, click comments or:
casting runes — 23sept26
when we winter
all we stand pines
many winds we speak
dark heartwood groves
our brown on ground
in skirts found flowing
below in chinese whispers
carried around, around
until all sense lost falls
when we winter,
we crackle & popTo like, click comments or:
when we winter
sacrifices
I was wondering today about taking time to acknowledge what is given to us is a lost art. It can be as simple as spending a moment thanking whatever gave your to dinner — some god, the plant or animal, the spirits, or simply acknowledging that something was sacrificed to feed you. Even walking out to the tree that shades your evenings in the summer and thanking it once in a while — have we lost that sense?
I went to pick up a package that was delivered this late morning. I didn’t ask that it be delivered separate from the other items that made up my minimum order, but it was delivered all by itself. Heinz Malt Vinegar, mostly because that doesn’t appear to show up in grocery stores and I’ve been craving fish and chips with Heinz Malt Vinegar, in case you were wondering, which I suspect you were not.
There have already been two other deliveries this morning from the big “A”, one completely unrelated to this order and all picked up by the kids.
No one noticed, but there was a dead bird at the bottom of the stairs.
(more…)To like, click comments or:
sacrifices
