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
casting a glam
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casting a glam
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 dawnTo like, click comments or:
waystation waiting
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 belowA 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.
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casting runes — 28nov25
Using AI
I recently updated my mobile phone and part of the package included a free year of Google’s Gemini Pro. I’ve been using more AI assistance at my workplace to help my research efficiency and improve my work throughput, and thought I would take advantage of the advanced Gemini access to do the same for my own personal research.
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Using AI
Half-penny thoughts — 27nov25
Happy Thanksgiving, if you’re the kind of folks who celebrate such things. My mother didn’t give an option to decline the festivities and, having grown up in an environment where Catholic Guilt Syndrome was (and is still) employed as the weapon of choice, I’ll be heading out in a bit to do family things.
But, as Arlo Guthrie sang, “Alice — remember Alice?”… [listening to Alice’s Restaurant Massacree on Thanksgiving is about the only personal tradition worth keeping in my mind, but—]… let’s get on with my weird, cheap thoughts for the day. But first:
In my shower moments, maybe in those moments leading up to the shower as well, I was thinking (once again) about the nature of crushes.
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Half-penny thoughts — 27nov25
Towards the Within — Vicious Thorn, Rose Chronicles
It’s been a spell since I added a song to the series of posts that was originally intended to look backwards to look forwards for music discovery.
I was disappointed with the discovery process, which either sent me to bands I already knew full well or directed me to bands that sounded nothing at all like my “seed” music.
Rose Chronicles, copyright status unknown After yesterday’s post quoting an opinion piece writer who has essentially declared that we have settled for the enshittification of our culture via the monetization of everything artistic thanks to the internet, I was left thinking about the last time I really enjoyed most of the music I was discovering. I can safely say that started to wane at some point near the end of the 90s.
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Towards the Within — Vicious Thorn, Rose Chronicles
casting runes — 26nov25
hagalaz dry lips shedding skin
with a raw aching to be
bruised once againA rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is hagalaz, which has a core meaning of “hail”, which was associated with potential, transformation, renewal and change; hail is imagined a seed from which change will arise. Hagalaz is also seen as representative of things beyond our control: a clash between fire and ice.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
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casting runes — 26nov25
unimagine
i unimagine shared madness
wrapped of kohl eyes twinned
and mirroring the within
unimagine a phantom recollect
of promises bound in lace
another madness, another dream
another unworthy
we ghost nighttime streets
cobbled in maritime fog
forgetting unimagined
shared madness together for
a dreaming winterlongTo like, click comments or:
unimagine
More Trouble, Boys
The biography I am reading for the Minneapolis band, The Replacements, is both lengthy and well done. I’m just crossing the half-way point and the tale has reached that point in their story where the band started to show their cracks with their lead guitarist, Bob Stinson.
There was always a bit of tension there between Bob and the singer-songwriter Paul Westerberg. Paul was a little older than Bob and Chris Mars (the drummer) and all of them were older by quite a bit than Tommy Stinson (bass player). Paul used his age and experience to take over what had originally been Bob’s band, Dogbreath. [Side note: Tommy was very young and playing bars on a regular basis by 13 years of age.]
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More Trouble, Boys
