Dropping hints.
Again, my head is off in the outer limits where the ozone thins and this might be one of those weirdo (I’m a creep/I’m a weirdo) kinds of subjects to try and hold a discussion around, but I have my personal reasons for asking about people and communicating in hints.
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simple things:
four different ways
skies and stone
above and below
and those places
left in between
black sheen brow
crossed of blood
cut ashen
i turn my
flint head away
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after pasts go to pyre
burning the longest night
a brand to sear away
open sores left behind
A 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.
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A little Icelandic darkwave in honor of the upcoming solstice, perhaps?
Á sólstöðum í svartnætti tunglið geislum grætur
Vetrarnótt; við erum þínar sönnu svörtu dætur
Winter solstice in the black night
the moon cries its beams
Winter night; we are your true dark daughters
Of course you may have some, my darkling dearies. Enjoy.
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given to pressing petals of
her fragrant valley sheltered
drinking her butterfly wine
grown over gone under
lingers myrrh sweet inside
slumber her summer slopes
tracing dew along her lines...
who would wish for return
after lingering this vale?
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Lingering at midnights, the skin’s hollow drum thrumming with tension tugging taut the skin in anticipation as black coil fingernails trace leys down the soft flesh of an inner forearm. First right, then left, setting lines burning like fireflies down to the fingertips.
Comes at winterkiss. “Are you ready,” said she. A nod with it begins, her kiss leaving every nerve burning alive.
A furtive nod, afraid the spell will break and longing for the neverending. Miraculously, there is only long vibrations humming through, a guitar string of tension bound under flesh.
All bells break, shatter the water’s razor edge and then begins a falling, a falling lingering a twilights all that remains is the skin’s hallow drumming while wondering at Elektra and if might this be that hunger she beheld.
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come on in twist, for
a turn on the scythe
to carve away thin
to skate on black ice
dance on night fires
pierce ragged hearts
ribbons to raw, to dream
in everlasting kiss
A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is dagaz, which has been translated as “daybreak”, that transitional moment between night and day. By extension, it might also be interpreted as “twilight” and is representative of liminality, transformation, the space between worlds, and suggests walking in both the material world and otherworld.
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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come this solstice night
& follow me dark river
nadir kissed & ragged lips
under her lacuna moon
come this solstice night
& twist shadow at murder
cross silver ashen pale
to carry her winter words
come this solstice night
we stand stone whores with
blood marked cheeks
under her lacuna moon
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J.G. Thirlwell, also known as Clint Ruin, Frank Want, and Foetus (multiple variants of the name), among other pseudonyms is an Aussie musician that has been putting out albums of an experimental nature since the early 80s.
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as sudden as sunset
the sadness descends
with old blood weight
on the pristine of snow
she shifts inside, sighs
finger draws the frosted panes
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