Category: writing

  • unhere

    unhere
    for comfort
    for beauty —
    these sores weep
    rosegardens in rains
    stained in blood

    at the funeral they
    will look back laughing
    pushing pale lilies
    in a storm

  • casting runes — 26dec25

    berkana
    living lone wolf
    prowling the jagged edge
    eyes giving flight to shadow
    pale as moon, her limbs
    skeleton bare cast ley
    on ragged snow

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is berkana, which translates to “birch”. Birch are associated with earth-mother and maternal energies. Because birch is a “pioneer tree” which tends to grow in advance of other tree growth — especially after forest fires — berkana is associated with renewal and rebirth. Additionally, berkana has ties to liminal thresholds of all types, especially those paths to the underworld.

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

  • Product

    reflection of woman s eye on broken mirror
    Photo by Ismael Sánchez on Pexels.com

    Everything is prop or backdrop on the stage for our play today.

    Check our vaseline smiles in the mirror before calling for “lights” and the sodiums flicker to life and set the world aglow.

    Pull on the masque, assume a pose. Adjust after checking the screen that mirrors the scene. Set, snap and print.

    Pat each other of the back when nothing slips and we have captured a plastic essence pristine.

    Then file it away as just another charade of former days, anxious to apprehend the next.

  • slender slight

    evershade i firefly without
    dancing on foxfire nights
    slipping dream in slender slight

    all remains echo
    i have tried, how i have tried
    to wash blood from fingers
    in slender slight

  • casting runes — 25dec25

    sowilo
    her first fingers
    stretch, clutch at pale
    covered of night stained
    lapis & spangle

    i slumber for her coming
    & dream

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

    Today’s rune is sowilo, the sun. Sowilo is the source of enlightenment, for lighting the way and illumination. It is also called the “icebreaker” and gives power to an “attack”, ensuring success and/or prosperity. This rune also represents hope, the light at the end of a long darkness.

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

  • apartment landing

    heather grey stairstop sitting
    all elbows & knees & grinning

    sundanced & hair bright gold
    ten-twenty-one, crows gone counting

    a hungry & thirsty spring morning

  • a ghost in the machine

    all obfuscation & confuddle
    all illusion & unsubstantial
    a wraith, nothing more

    i must have died
    so long, long ago, now just
    a ghost in the machine

  • casting runes — 23dec25

    othala
    undercloak, reaching back
    to bones & stones
    through blood & black
    rime-eyed & cataract

    we razor high drifts
    highspaces we roam
    with gills on our tongues
    drinking burning skies &
    slipping closer to home

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is othala, which has a core meaning of “heritage”, “inheritance” and “legacy”. These are all associated with home, kin, ancestors, stability and (in some interpretations) past lives or spiritual legacy.

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

  • Kind

    I wonder whatever became of Kind. She drifted away like a mote on the wind one summers day, flitting here and there before in the distance she did fade, leaving neither full lips or ashen hair to guide the way to where she went on drift. Perhaps she burned away, like any dream does when the sun shines on something at such length — and so wan she was in the begin, that slim girl Kind. It was a wonder she had not been consumed years ago.

    I check balconies in the gloaming; I inspect the shadowtall oaks, gnarled in the their age. But Kind is no where and no when, our pale empress aloft on the wind. I miss our lady Kind, and the delirium euphoric that she did bring.

    And I wonder at where she took her drift.

  • teenage angst

    Photo by Bradyn Shock on Unsplash
    cafe glances at that
    jigsaw girl writing
    in coffee-ringed
    moleskine & her
    pen mouthchewed
    & all dangleshoed
    oh, you would
    love to love her
    but you know
    she is not one to
    want to love to love
    someone at all like
    you