...michael don't dream
michael don't dream
michael don't dream
michael don't dream
michael don't dream....
Category: writing
mantra
Twilight aching
Photo by Cornelia Munteanu on Unsplash She covers me in twilight aching, as filtered by summer leaves. Shadowed within shadows gloaming slips down, descends, pours over me.
Blind to consequence, she moves through the weald seamless, with feet drifting on wraith. A kiss on my grey lips passing, breath crisp to the taste and pale fingers linger mists on cheek before she wisps away.
I am wicker-bound by convention though the distance moves well beyond time.
Flint for my eyes, sharp, though always blind I must be. They scrimshawed my bones to mask the words from me. Lips set to suture, to trap my voice to me.
Waiting on the fires, mists’ kiss watching, twilight aching over me.
casting runes — 29jan26
kenaz burning on the inside
seeking cooling ground
to draw this feverdream
from head to stoneA rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is kenaz, which has been translated as both “torch” and “ulcer” . It is conceived as symbolic of flame, which is the illuminated creativity as well as the source of purification/healing/cautery. Fire is a a source of transformation and unmaking as well as heat, passion and light. As an ulcer, kenaz can be associated with a fever or inflammation, perhaps a wound which requires healing.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
recollection
do you recall wrists
bound in sailor's knot or
was that only wraith?
memories from mists or
merely smoke & mirrors?
tell me true, did years burn?
beautiful darkling,
do you recall the gloaming
of our changeling time?casting runes — 28jan26
tiwaz with each sacrifice
another face steps forward
to fill the empty space
we will not waver.
justice must be served.A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is tiwaz, which is named after the Norse god Týr, and the second weekday (Tuesday) is named for the god. According to Norse myth, Týr offers his right hand to the wolf Fenrir, who bites it off when he realizes the gods have used the offering to distract the wolf while they bind him. The rune is typically considered symbolic of honor, loyalty and justice, as well as of sacrifice. It may be representative of discipline and faith. Some interpretations have associated the rune with the North Star.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
of evensong
Photo by Simon Wilkes on Unsplash All that could be seen was ankle; your ankle, in fact. My face was against your bare calf, warmed in the golden glow of early summer evensong atop the old elm-crowned hillock, your fingers tangled in my hair. Narrowed of focus by my heavy eyelids, dreamy for ebb and flow of cicada drones — narrowed so I could drink in that ankle of yours, the sight of which being mead that made my head dizzy drunk and the linger of a kiss honey sweet.
Someone hummed a tuneless song and I never did discover if it was you or me. But neither of us moved in the fading day’s heat. Not wanting to break the thralling spell, I just lay there, feeling the pulse of your blood against my cheek as I bathed in the vision of your ankle and the massage of your fingers in my hair.
casting runes — 27jan26
fehu ages of drought
fields left fallow
these bones & stones &
the withered dusty husk
ache for the love of rainA poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is fehu, which has a core meaning of “cattle” or a more generalized “livestock”, which was a representation of personal wealth or earned prosperity. Sometimes luck played a role. Wealth and prosperity was valued, but was looked down upon when material accumulation appeared to be excessive, greedy, miserly or turned to hoarding, especially when those around you were lacking.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
chaos
woke up tired
washed up
dragged down
undertow and gone
rip tide out away
from shore
past jagged
black stones
piercing waves
and the ocean
it pulled me
so far away
until i approached
a ninth wave
i woke up tired
washed up
not needing their
chaos riding homecasting runes — 26jan26
ansuz left to dangle at
the ol' hanging tree &
i cannot breathe
without you
mouth to mouthA 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.
Hollowman
I’ve gone hollow, with dusty cobwebs occupying the empty space inside. If you were to loosen the black leather lacing that holds everything inside, you would be surprised at the void that greets you.
I don’t want you to be shocked. So, consider this fair warning if you elect to look inside just out for the looking for any curiosities you thought might be tied up inside. Some other thief or thieves have already lifted the everything of what used to reside there.
Ahh, is that disappointment I perceive? That long, gravity-trapped face dragging to the ground, where once a smile was to reside, turned to the upside down?
It’s not my preference to be primarily hollow, I assure you. My clockwork heart was quite the thing, I promise, before it was taken from me. Even the spleen filled of ideal was taken from me. I am quite empty, you see.
With all parts cannibalized for the sake of entertainment of others, only my eyes remain to reflect the void within. Waiting for something that long has a been and unlike to be again.
