Wind and needle-sharp snowdust blew something coughing and swearing through Gate 32B. They had opened the door but a crack so that Mark and the other guards would have an easier time of pushing it back into the closed position after their “guest” had entered. The servos were nightfroze again and no one had wanted to open the gate in the first place, but you just did not leave folks out in the cold on a night like this.
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though she was no virgin
and he no unicorn,
he rested his head in her lap
and visioned their journey
riding across still waters in
the shimmer of dream
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wearing knotted hounds
around an arm
used to mean something
but it was not long
before the world's hungry wolves
gnawed until even those
ideals were devoured away
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 sacrifices his right hand to the wolf Fenrir, who bites it off when he realizes the gods have bound 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.
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she gushed candied lies
something saccharine fierce
living labyrinthine sweet but
only fools fall for her
promised treat
empty hands & honey
stolen child & treacle
too sweet too sweet too sweet
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The bus was running late, as usual. The only sensible thing to do in such conditions is to smoke a cigarette, as far as Paul was concerned. So he did.
“I’ve run out of fucks to give,” he said, dropping a pinch of tobacco into the cigarette paper. He shifted the distribution of the tan, shredded leaf, pushing it to the edges of the paper. The amount was still unsatisfactory by whatever criteria he had, so another pinch was added shifted about until he was satisfied and his fingers started their practiced rolling to transform the package into a serviceable cigarette.
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“First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys. Not that all months aren’t rare. But there be bad and good, as the pirates say. Take September, a bad month: school begins. Consider August, a good month: school hasn’t begun yet. July, well, July’s really fine: there’s no chance in the world for school. June, no doubting it, June’s best of all, for the school doors spring wide and September’s a billion years away.”
~ Something Wicked This Way Comes, Prologue
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Drip drop, water in the well. She peers down between the moss stones and half-shadows to the water’s tenebrious surface casing ripples with each drop of dew gathering in the chill of the dark before it casts itself downward, a suicide plunge to rejoin the well of spirits gathered below.
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for all our gaudy riches,
longing is the incense
which lingers after we wake
A 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.
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I’ve decided that I need to get out into the real world and step away from my man cave in the basement more often. Although I am not much of a people-person, I have been feeling the need for face-to-face human interaction from people other than family members.
Essentially, I’m looking to take a break from extreme isolation that has been the hallmark of my existence since I elected to sober up. Over the past 16 years, I’ve largely forgotten how to socialize, which is starting to wear a bit on my psyche.
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