Author: michael raven

  • Death at the Wharf

    Photo by Izzy E on Unsplash

    I was murdered at Fisherman’s Wharf late one night in the month of July, way back when in 1995.

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  • to see

    this nothingness,
    a rope around my feet
    marked in stains & aches
    burnt remains
    sullied & unclean
    grasping at waters 
    waiting blind for to see

    go away cold
    i give hills empty

  • Half-penny thoughts — 30nov25

    Sometimes dreams are just dreams. I get it — if all of our dreams were always meaningful, insightful and future-seeing, we’d put all of the oneiromancers out there out of business. Or give them panic attacks when we call them in to join us in the dreaming to help interpret and…

    Whatever.

    But there are dreams and the are Dreams. The proper noun versions demand you pay attention to their contents, which the other ones might linger on the fringes of memory until the morning fog burns off (if your lucky). And that’s only if they are particularly good or bad.

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  • casting runes — 30nov25

    algiz
    a new arrival, fresh blood
    from unknown lands
    with diagrams, maps & charts
    speaking as they do up north
    while describing my pain

    "we must leach the poison,"
    he said in my tongue,
    "before you can walk
    the shadows once again"

    A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.

    Today’s rune is algiz, which may mean either “elk” (there is some uncertainty if this is the case) or yew (Old Norse). It is associated with the Otherworld, protection/sanctuary, and with guardian spirits/fylgja. The unconscious mind is sometimes associated with algiz.

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

  • idle thoughts

    I sometimes wish I could be the knight bewitched by La Belle Dame sans Merci. I might be doomed to an imminent grave, but at least I will enjoy heading to my doom.

    Or, perhaps, I feel more like hopping in my skiff and riding the stream after failing to keep my focus on the mirror, and looking at beauty riding on by as did The Lady of Shallot.

    Or give myself to the waters in a fit of madness, as poor Ophelia did.

    Who suffered more? Tristan or Isolde? Let me taste that joy in the time before they fell.

    This is all absurdity, and yet… and yet… At moments there was joy.

  • casting runes — 29nov25

    thurisaz
    your secret name stippled
    across my skin and
    scrimshawed to my bone
    carved into my heart and
    crushed against stinging salt
    waves dragging the undertow

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is thurisaz, which has several core translations: “thorn” or “giant”. The rune is often associated with pain or discomfort (often for an important transitional or transformative reason) or raw power that may be destructive. It is also considered protective, regenerative, and is frequently associated with women’s menstrual health.

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

  • casting a glam

    ever to changeling
    given to folk & cunning 
    ever at wild, ever of wode
    given to seething & wood

    hands see & eyes hear
    many the calling beneath
    bury the heart under leaves
    bury the bone under loam

    ever to changeling
    given to folk & cunning 
    ever at wild, ever of wode
    given to seething & wood

  • waystation waiting

    at the waystation waiting
    on the medicine train 
    with a spirit at the wander
    all the stars in glittershine
    pouring towards winter stone

    i've enough of
    mirage and mirrors
    all sacrificed now in
    pressing thorn to bone

    whistle calling
    as razor cuts the dawn

  • mornings

    ephemeral as morning fog
    she drifts all hither and thither
    unaware of the ghost
    residing in plain sight

    with her burning 
    all haunts go to ground
    shackled in place and
    never to fade away

  • casting runes — 28nov25

    wunjo
    a wish, then
    since it is cold outside &
    i am cold within as well
    for the warmth of spring
    on the breath of wind
    with this coin tossed
    to dark waters below

    A 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.