we're all lost boys
living in a purgatory
of our own make
dreaming
cardboard fantasies
of tin foil swords &
steel-painted armors —
a princess eager
behind a veil of thorns
we still boast song & glory
in a mead hall of ruins
shoes sticking to
ale-washed floors
slipstream still,
i sit between
shifting throngs & smiles
wondering what lies
all lost boys, we
will tell now
all lost boys
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all lost boys
Gravity
Okay, grab something heavy and lend me an ear.
No.
We will not be losing gravity for seven seconds within just over 30 minutes as of the time of this post.
I almost wish we were.
But we’re not.
Stop it. You’re making damned fools of yourself. It makes me sad.
tagged:
conspiracies about conspiracies that are conspiracies themselves, gravity doesn’t work that way folks, le sighfiled under:
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Gravity
Campfire Sessions — 11aug26

Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash I emerged from the bramble gate, crawling out on my hands and knees the soft loam giving way to my weight before springing back, erasing any sign of my passing. Thorns teased at my clothes, my skin while rending neither.
Part of me wished the thorns had taken more liberties with both fabric and flesh.
You survived, They said as I stood, brushing off decayed leaves and detritus from my palms and trousers. Excellent.
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Campfire Sessions — 11aug26
casting runes — 10aug26

dagaz i shadowwalk
the barrows gloaming
neither flint, nor flesh
nor song, nor substance
a wraith tethered between
neither a living, nor a dyingA rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is dagaz, which has been translated as “daybreak”, that transitional moment between night and day. By extension, it might also be interpreted as “twilight” and is representative of liminality, transformation, the space between worlds, and suggests walking in both the material world and otherworld.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
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casting runes — 10aug26
tonight tonight
scraping old bones white
with gathered barrowflint;
a toast on the graves to
old friends gathered tonight
they whisper, crisp as leaves
and as thick as thieves
bloodless, aimless, shambling:
telling old tales of stones tonight
there is little reason, These Days
to wander out the wood
old crow, he cousins for a waiting
on the gathering snow tonightTo like, click comments or:
tonight tonight
Mild rant
I recently had a lengthy discussion with someone who wanted to share with me their amazing mind-expanding experiences with psilocybin. This person had “an awakening” after the experience and wanted me to hear their version of “the good word”.
I won’t go into the details of their belief system, as it is really unimportant. People believe what they will believe and I try not to judge what they believe, although his awakening is based quite heavily on the use of hallucinogens and convoluted conspiracy theories treated as science by merely applying the word “science” to the material.
Anyway, I think he was trying to get me to join his psilocybin community. Most people would jump at the chance, honestly. Not interested, personally.
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Mild rant
casting runes — 09aug26

pertho my bones all shadowcast— i need not your shaman i need not your drugs i need not your third eye i dream worlds without drum
A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is pertho, which has a disputed meaning and there is some indication that any proposed meanings might be based on a corrupted interpretation. The general consensus is that there is likely some relationship to ørlǫg (fate/destiny), luck/gambling or perhaps hidden knowledge.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
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casting runes — 09aug26
wearing masks
must hide these scars and
not give my crimson ley away
so i can pick at each until
they can bleed again tonight.To like, click comments or:
wearing masks





