Category: poetry

  • rose of sanctuary

    sell me rose of sanctuary
    in rainsoaked night
    help me forget in rhythm
    as you pull me in under
    the afterglow neon lights
    and grant me sweet release

  • casting runes — 06jan26

    thurisaz
    pinprick crimson welling
    nearly night for richness red
    leaving behind chants & cantrips
    trailing bright against snow
    dragging, we cut tether with
    leather-strapped bone

    weary, we rest
    drawing warmth from mother sun

    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 runes — 05jan25

    mannaz
    scrimblindeyes & staggerfall
    mask up, mask up
    she crowcalls & so
    allfacesup & whiteblank
    everyone undances
    that skeletonwaltz

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is mannaz, a rune that translates to “man” in the sense of “humankind”. The rune is associated with family and the social order, and in trusting the intuitive process or seeing clearly — both from within and from without. Mannaz influences relationships of all kinds, including those of a romantic nature, and encourages compassion, for oneself as well as for others.

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

  • vagary

    Photo by Adarsh Kummur on Unsplash
    i have given to sacrifice my sleeve
    it grows cold with naught pinned
              nor sewn
    and i have not much need of it
              anymore
              anyway

    having gone to mud
    ravens scrimshaw my bone
    a stern reminder of place
    bound in baling cut flesh
              deep

    do you recall lace curtains'
    gentle ruffle of summer breeze?

  • the story ends

    this is how the story ends
    with whispers & turnaway eyes
    under midnight skies
    they shuffle from shade to fade
    forgetting color & tone
    given to ash on tongue
    lacking substance at touch
    howling as we slip away