Category: poetry

  • tossing a rune — 27apr25

    the elder futhark rune, isaz
    here, we stand in stillness.

    cold still in beauty
    stone against flurry
    rimed eyes clear

    we chill flames
    burning too hot

    here, we stand.

    Another of my rune poems for a Elder Futhark rune selected at random. Today’s rune is isaz/isa, whose core meaning is “ice” and which secondary meanings are all those normally associated with ice: stillness, enchantment, beauty and, yes, stagnation, blockages and cold.

    I was thinking recently about sceadugenga.com and the runes found there and decided that, rather than let the domain lapse into a WordPress.com variant when the hosting period is up at that site, I will transfer the domain to this host and continue to own the domain. I will likely reduce the content to just rune-related matters, but the annual fee is nominal for continuing to own the domain name. I will likely have to overhaul the pages to correct for some of the elements that don’t transfer over to non-WordPress-hosted variations of sites, but I should probably do that anyway to correct how some of my understanding has evolved over time (continuously). The decision to refer to the rune as isaz instead of isa is reflective of some of that change in understanding.

  • menagerie

    reflection of woman s eye on broken mirror
    Photo by Ismael Sánchez on Pexels.com
    as we number by paints
    a portrait yesterday lost
    lift away the colors ocean
    to etch sands into seas
    she echoes facets in faces
    mirrors song in her dream
    i am many, they say
    i am paper of lions
    i am menagerie
  • dead ends

    Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash
    hallways wandering
    puckish laughter and
    you know i am a fool
    for shadows and light
    in play

    but i tire of dead ends
    with glamour and lure
    bare wrists exposed
    waiting for light’s knife
    across aging skin
  • estranged of night

    Photo by HARALD PLIESSNIG on Unsplash
    estranged of night
    citrus rot, bitter nuts

    no one trusts a scry

    wipe away these eyes
    fevered thrum pounding
    a head song drumming
    tongue void tasting

    shadows on shadow veil
    sacred in the fallow
    winds sweep the stone
    for rain
  • vampires

    Image of a writing journal and a pencil.
    Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash
    all the pretty young vampires
    and some even old —
    lurking in the shadows
    vying for ways to avoid sun
    i wish my finger were a gun
    that blasted away the scrims
    these bloodsuckers hide
    themselves behind and
    daylight their pestilence away